#the glimmers of backstory

[divinekangaroo]

...man I've really hit that stage of Old Womanhood where I seriously contemplate and long for novelisations of existing gaming / televised media? :/

[dapper-lil-arts]

Starlight is funny as hell even just as a concept

[melos-magic-ponies]

Starlight Glimmer had accompanied Trixie to a Washouts performance. She found it underwhelming, and honestly was more interested in how this show was allowed to happen unregulated than any of the tricks. Feeling nosy, Starlight sneaks back stage and strikes up conversation with one of the Washouts.

Lightning Dust was…charming? Alarmingly charming. Starlight was quickly smitten and Lightning asks her out. The two date on and off for a couple months…until Starlight gets pregnant. When she tells Lightning Dust, Lightning Dust is quick to break up with her. Starlight is left to raise her twins, Candlelight Cinders (she/her) and Skylight Smoke (they/them). While she does have help from friends and her father, she can’t deny that she still feels a bit lonely at times.

A couple years later, Starlight is in Canterlot helping Princess Twilight Sparkle with a diplomatic mission. After a successful negotiation between the griffins and dragons, the two head to Donut Joe’s bakery for a celebratory treat. Joe forms a crush on her, and he and Starlight maintain a long distance relationship via letters. She occasionally sees him when she’s in Canterlot, and for a moment it looks like life is looking up.

When she gets pregnant again, Starlight and her twins move to Canterlot so her third child could be close to his father, with Trixie taking over her position as vice principal at Twilight’s school. The third and final kiddo, Cardamom Morning Bun (he/him), is raised by both his parents. While Starlight and Donut Joe never formally marry or move in together, the two stayed together for the sake of Cardamom. Starlight works as a private tutor, though the stress of a new job and new city takes a toll on her and Donut Joe’s relationship. The two break up, but vow to get along for the sake of their son.

Candlelight Cinders (queer, she/her) | 24 years old

- Special talent is crystal magic

- Calm, collected, introspective. Great at solving problems and settling disagreement

- Very nosy, involves herself in drama that she probably shouldn’t

- Runs a store in Canterlot that sells crystals, tarot cards, etc.

Skylight Smoke (graysexual, they/them) | 24 years old

- Special talent is making stained glass windows

- Loud, boisterous, a party animal. They sleep at odd hours and has started at least one bar fight lol

- Because of how delicate the material is, stained glass making is the one the things that helps calm them down.

- A member of Grasshopper’s roller derby team

Cardamom Morning Bun (straight, he/him) | 21 years old

- Special talent is luck magic

- Intelligent and reserved, more or less a stereotypical nerd

- Was accepted into Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, but was relentlessly teased for his father being lower class.

- Decorates desserts to relax, he’s not the best at it but he’s happy with it.

[prowerprojects]

My OC Glimmer

My baby boy.

I wasn't gonna post until I figured out the character palette (He's a cat & I want him to be purple with orange eyes... Yeah lol)

[aura-luxe]

ok but what if aurelia worships the god of arepo............

[the-weeping-dawn]

////

[idkwidatp]

Are there any fanfics about bow and the whole "I understand friendship is hard you have to work at it so why am I the only one that's willing to work at it" thing? because boys night out is one of if not my favorite episode because of the angst from bow and how frustrated he seems and I wish me got more of that and also that episode makes me hate season 4 glimmer more.

[gynnnicsworld]

You know Sterek has been frequently 'cancelled' and attacked for basically being the most popular ship in the TW world, right?

Because of the age gap between them, right? Well, I have to complain about it, because it really pisses me off that they're discarding the beautiful, slow-burning love story that exists between Stiles and Derek in CANON. Because damn it, they liked each other.

It bothers me that they tarnish Sterek's image for things like being a "pedo" ship when NO, they're not. They're trying to lump us all into a "sick shipper" category.

If we're being honest, Sterek has probably been the story with the most backstory, where we've seen how each season has seen the closeness between Stiles and Derek grow, where they've gone from 'hating each other and having to deal with each other because of Scott' to genuinely caring for each other to the point where Derek would take a bullet for Stiles or Stiles would go against the entire FBI to protect and get Derek out of whatever mess he was in.

They care deeply and genuinely for each other, so much so that Derek preserved and fixed Stiles' Jeep, keeping it in his garage as a sort of memento or anchor for him.

It bothers me so much that they talk shit about Sterek when this couple exists:

sorry but parrish/lydia was a canon pairing between a teenager and an ADULT and if that wasn't enough, an adult from the sheriff's department.

Why aren't people talking about this more? Why are they attacking Sterek instead? Sterek: a couple that wasn't canon during the show's run, and we only got confirmation of feelings for each other through the actors and through obvious hints in the show. But directly, it was never a canon couple between a teenager and an adult guy. They were together.

I put the adult that way because Derek's age was never confirmed as such. At the beginning of the series, Stiles says Derek is only a couple of years older than him and Scott. So at the beginning of the series, Derek was between 18 and 19 years old. But later on, they address the fire, so they change the age again, but they never say exactly how old he is, so canonically Derek could be 2 to 5 years older than Stiles. You choose what age gap to give them.

While Lydia, about 17, and Jordan Parish, over 20, are a CANON couple.

Anyway, hypocrisy and homophobia, right?

But there is a VERY important theme between the Derek/Stiles relationship, which if you ask me made the possibility of a relationship between the two of them impossible while Stiles was still a high school student and perhaps only when Stiles was older could something exist between them.

The existence of this damn bitch and what she did to Derek.

I hate her as much as you do, and it disgusts me to have to watch Teenage Derek with her.

But it's important to what I wanted to say; it's why I think Derek repressed his feelings for Stiles.

According to the Teen Wolf book, Kate was Derek's substitute swim teacher, who used certain hormones and scents to attract the teenage Derek to her. YES, that was not only a relationship rife with manipulation, power imbalances, and pedophilia, but she also ended up orchestrating the murder of Derek's family at a moment of vulnerability for Derek because Paige's death hadn't happened long before.

We all know Derek blames himself for the death of his family, and he hates Kate. He knows what she did to him. He knows he was manipulated by an older woman and that he fell for her.

Derek has serious trust and self-confidence issues.

He doesn't believe he's worthy of love or peace.

His anchor until Season 2 was anger because his life was infested with anger/hate/rage.

So he sees himself as something bad, something that hurts, someone who destroys what he loves. He's a victim of sexual abuse, even though he doesn't admit it.

But Stiles became that little glimmer of light annoying, but a light in his dark life filled with negative things. Stiles earned his trust. Stiles fought every step of the way and broke down that wall Derek built around himself to keep people away from him, because trust means giving someone the power to hurt you. Oh well, Derek's mind worked that way. Unbeknownst to him, Stiles earned that trust.

And that's where we have this scene.

This is where Derek lets us see how important Stiles has become to him, Stiles became his anchor.

At this point, it's undeniable that Derek already has feelings for Stiles. He trusts Stiles blindly. But then, why didn't Derek do anything to have Stiles? Because Derek is a victim of sexual abuse by a woman who took advantage of him in high school. And Derek never dealt with that trauma, or we were never shown to have it that way.

Derek dates women, of course—Jennifer (who also manipulated him), Braeden, etc.—whose relationships didn't end well or were never serious.

But not with Stiles, because Stiles is like that extremely important thing where he can't ruin that connection they have, he can't taint or sully this relationship he has with Stiles. It's too important to Derek. Plus, the untreated traumas surrounding his abuser are a clear impediment to starting something real, something serious. And everything seems to indicate that Stiles is THAT person his unconscious heart has chosen.

That is, to start any romantic relationship with Stiles, Derek has to face all of his demons, all of his traumas first, in order to give Stiles what he believes Stiles deserves.

Kate ruined Derek's heart and mind a lot, plus Derek already had a wounded and bleeding heart since Paige.

So, a relationship as such didn't exist in the series between S/D, and it was quite unlikely that it would, but the feelings were always there.

That's why I don't understand why they keep attacking a couple who has SO MUCH backstory, and who if they ever dated, it was definitely when they were already adults and able to deal with their own issues.

The sheriff's line about the jeep and Derek always makes me think that the sheriff was always aware and noticed everything. He never disapproved; on the contrary, he supported them, because he knows there's no one who deserves each other more than those two. It was also a clear confirmation that Derek always had feelings for Stiles, complicated feelings he didn't know how to address, but whose feelings led him to treasure and fix Stiles's jeep.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary:  When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar. 

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same. 

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over. 

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din. 

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch. 

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement. 

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her. 

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it. 

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot. 

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay. 

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called. 

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed. 

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide. 

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!” 

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about. 

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were. 

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight. 

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger. 

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar. 

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown. 

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver. 

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile. 

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her. 

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious. 

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing. 

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam. 

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand. 

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth. 

You try not to be jealous. 

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago. 

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot. 

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering. 

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. 

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. 

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm. 

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table. 

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in. 

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.” 

Smooth real smooth. 

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now. 

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again. 

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier. 

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze. 

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard. 

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him. 

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are. 

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing. 

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire. 

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off. 

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces. 

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?” 

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life. 

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit. 

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did. 

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say. 

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown. 

“Me too.” You sigh. 

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?” 

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.” 

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it. 

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-” 

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat. 

I am so out of practice. 

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile. 

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat. 

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.” 

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours. 

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.” 

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life. 

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?” 

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight? 

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave. 

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test. 

Worst seduction technique ever. 

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.” 

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past. 

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him. 

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes. 

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.” 

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door. 

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell. 

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation. 

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.” 

“Aww babe.” Liza says. 

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.” 

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind. 

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him. 

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.” 

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him. 

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong. 

You didn’t think that you would need it. 

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.” 

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did. 

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door. 

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.” 

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song. 

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove. 

Why didn’t I ask him for his name? 

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.” 

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class. 

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester. 

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class. 

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend. 

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her. 

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen. 

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship. 

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer. 

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter. 

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car. 

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon. 

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy. 

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible. 

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate. 

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement. 

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground. 

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird. 

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward. 

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back. 

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar. 

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting. 

The image comes into focus. 

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder. 

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy. 

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag. 

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him. 

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!” 

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!” 

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA. 

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die. 

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing. 

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people? 

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that? 

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is  holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing. 

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you. 

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little. 

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke. 

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley. 

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him. 

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you. 

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with. 

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates. 

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings. 

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun. 

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it? 

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight. 

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding. 

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once. 

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream. 

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage. 

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.  

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men. 

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and- 

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other. 

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible. 

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise. 

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!” 

“I’m not a murderer.” 

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack. 

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.” 

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours. 

That’s obviously a fake name. 

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m  Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print. 

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration. 

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one. 

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together. 

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!” 

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing. 

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him. 

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him. 

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices. 

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him. 

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you. 

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.” 

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him. 

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong. 

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @waynes-multiverse

[bonefall]

I know a lot of people are very excited over Starlingpov, but I just cannot share the enthusiasm. It feels like whenever we get a female character in the spotlight, she gets bowled over by the writers to focus on some male character's pain and trauma.

I liked Starlingpaw when he was a background character, because it's GOOD when random cats in a Clan have stuff going on. A glimmer of hope that we can just casually have interesting characters in a Clan is gone. The thought that it was part of a "plan" to turn him into yet another lackluster daddy issue POV absolutely ruins him for me.

Now it wasn't a great example of Leafstar's decline in faculties affecting the Clan at large, and setup for how her mistakes were going to follow her. It was a middling backstory for a type of character we've seen before.

In a sea of awful choices, Starlingpov isn't the worst. But it does ring particularly insulting considering this was the first all-female POV lineup.

[acexsmhking]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CBF!Toby

Warning(s): 18+ content, FEM!reader, nasty sexy, mentions of abuse, mentions of child abuse, mentions of child neglect, Toby’s backstory is a TW itself, Toby’s obsessive behavior

BSF!Toby that coincidentally breaks into your home one night, fully intending on satisfying his urges, maybe taking a limb off you and leaving

BSF!Toby that’s quiet pushing open your door, feet not making a sound as if he isn’t even there

BSF!Toby creeping to the side of your bed, eyes locked on you but something shiny catching his eye

There on your nightstand, a picture. Three people, two girls and a boy. Clearly two of the individuals are you and… him?

BSF!Toby’s head pops to the side, a hiss leaving his lips cringing at himself. He sneaks a glance at you, still thankfully unaware

BSF!Toby doesn’t look back at the picture, something about it.. irks him. That girl in it irks him

BSF!Toby leans in and sniffs you, you smell familiar you look vaguely familiar. He can feel himself getting hard as he looks at you, really looks at you

BSF!Toby feels himself getting frustrated, upset as to why he can’t remember you. Why was he feeling so… peaceful? Seeing you

BSF!Toby who suddenly leaves in a huff, shaking, bones popping uncontrollably as he stumbles out of your room, out of this house

Swiping one of your discarded panties on the floor…

BSF!Toby that stalks you, watching you from crowds, trees and corners as you go about your day

BSF!Toby gets a ridiculous hard-on one day watching you, seeing you bend over to pick something up and feeling a disgusting amount of jealous when he sees someone else checkin you out

BSF!Toby deciding enough is enough, and creeps into your house while you’re making a snack, completely unaware of him around the corner glaring at you

You who finally turns and, reasonably, freak the all hell out as you see a tall, face hidden, bloodied hatchet carrying individual in your home

The stranger moves fast, gripping your neck. You can’t turn your head, you can barely breathe. You’re horrified

Then you see it, a simple glimmering chain.. it’s the only thing on him in gold, the only thing on him that seems well maintained

You recognize the cross, the pearls dangling from it. You heart trembles, your nails dig into his sleeves as you try fighting him off

But BSF!Toby seems unbothered, presses a knee between your legs. You’re stunning, to him at least, and your scent. You’re driving him crazy

He feels unreasonable, more than usual. You look like a dream, something distant, something no someone he’s supposed to know

“T-Toby?” Your voice is quiet, hoarse clearly still unable to take a good breath of air

But you feel his grip loosen, his side head move to the side as one of his hands pop. This time your reach for his face, running your fingers over the cold leather muzzle where his gnash should be, is

BSF!Toby that keeps his grip on you, but is nicer.. feels nicer. He doesn’t protest as you remove his goggles, or when you undo the straps of his muzzle

He just watches you, as your eyes widen and tear up. Roaming his face and taking everything in. He can’t fault you; he’s doing the same

He looks older, tired, with this.. look in his eyes. They seem dead, you never understood what that saying meant before now

He looked as if he’s seen things and as if he’s done things. And if the hatchets are anything to go by he has

But still, some sort of weight lifts from your heart. Just being able to see him again; really see him again

It’s not some old photo, not an old tape from years ago. It’s actually him brown eyes, unkept hair and jitters

He leans closer, thigh pressing harder against you. You gasp, hands on his triceps as you weakly try squirming

“Tobs!” The nickname slips from you before you can stop it. His brows relax, he doesn’t look as.. angry at you now

You can feel slobber leak from him and onto your shirt as he moves his head to your neck, you can hear him take in a sniff

His fingers occasionally flex, crackle around your neck making you choke but he seems uncaring about moving hand

BSF!Toby that gives your neck a long lick, groaning at the taste of your skin. You’re soft, so soft and warm. Your skin isn’t too salty, but not dusty either

Your thighs clench around his, you can feel heat rise in your cheeks and your heart thumping

And of course BSF!Toby cared too little to be aware, suckling and biting your neck as you squirmed, core grinding against his thigh as your hands cling to his jacket

You’re whining, practically begging him to stop, let you pull yourself together and talk

BSF!Toby that just swats your hand away when you try pulling him off. He feels so safe, and you taste so damn good

You can feel yourself getting wetter, clit throbbing and it’s not enough. You need more you need him you need to feel his skin

BSF!Toby is relentless, as he moves you against his thigh. Not flinching as you begin unbuttoning his shirt, teeth nipping your jawline

“Ich nehme dich mit, Kleines”

: ̗̀➛ I am so sorry this is ass, I have been having a horrible headache. But I wanted to feed you all!! I am also trying to play more RDR again after months so the next coming chapters are a bit more put together, I am also still working on Brian’s generals — Ace

[wherearedagrapes]

I love this because it feels like such a typical parent-child exchange, but it hits different knowing Sonic’s backstory and unique circumstances. Tom’s dialogue clearly parallels Longclaw and her insistence that Sonic has to stay hidden from everyone to be safe.

And just like with Longclaw, Sonic disobeys and risks being noticed to do what he wants.

Both adults are not happy about this. But where Longclaw seems pretty (understandably) set in her belief of what’s best, Tom is a little more open-minded and receptive to Sonic’s feelings. Tom compromises with Sonic. He comes up with a lie that allows Sonic to hang out in the biker bar for a bit. And when he realizes that Sonic is sad about leaving Earth, he helps Sonic complete a bucket list of things the kid’s always wanted to do — things he can only do out in the open like this.

Tom does something that, arguably, no one else in this movie does: He recognizes Sonic’s feelings, and he sympathizes with him. Sonic’s not disobeying him for no reason. The kid’s miserable and lonely. He’s been in hiding the whole time he’s been on Earth. And he is, well, a child. Curious, impulsive, naive — not much different than any other kid in the world. Tom doesn’t know Sonic’s full story, but he feels for Sonic, and he tries to make him feel better. They have fun together.

Is it risky for the boys to goof off in a bar while they’re being chased by the government? Definitely lol But everything turns out fine. By which I mean, Sonic’s not persecuted or captured as an alien, and Tom and Sonic both leave in one piece. It’s pretty much the opposite of what happened when Sonic disobeyed Longclaw 10 years ago. And as Sonic muses in the motel later, it’s proof that Longclaw (and his own fears over putting people in danger) might be wrong.

The night’s a glimpse of what could be. Maybe Sonic can stay on Earth. And with Tom willing to help him, to accept him (to dare Sonic even say, be his first real friend?), maybe Sonic doesn’t have to be alone. Maybe he can have what everyone else does: people to rely on, a place to call home… It’s still a long shot, but for the first time, it’s not impossible. After years of sustaining himself on desperate, wishful thinking, this is the first glimmer of real hope.

But that hope relies heavily on Tom. And the way Sonic seems to look right at Tom when he asks, with some desperation, "But what if Longclaw was wrong?" It’s like he wants Tom to tell him that she is. She's wrong, and they can figure something out. Sonic doesn't have to leave, he doesn't have to be alone, because he has a place here. Sonic needs to hear that from Tom… Unfortunately, Tom's not ready to give him that yet.

[kael-writ]

All you Brennan Lee Mulligan fans should check out this strange and haunting short film he did in 2018, it's very good and impactful, definitely very emotionally riveting, disturbing, thought provoking. It's different from his other work because he is appearing as an actor with a different team (writer, director). The writing and directing is fantastic, holy shit, and the performances range from good to what the fuck (complimentary). It's a dark comedy, so there's lots of comedic moments and there's a glimmer of potential hope that can be read in it but it is also a gut wrenching exploration of trauma, survivor's guilt, and guilt by association... It's a lot, I could write a whole essay on it, it's fascinating.

(some content warnings may apply, it's a bit of a spoiler but there is a backstory involving violence against women committed by an offscreen character that isnt seen in any way but is a major visceral theme. It's something I like about it, but it definitely could be triggering and feel free to ask for clarification).

[happylittleshrub]

Finally putting all my thoughts on this scene into actual words because I adore it and it lives rent free in my mind ❤️

It absolutely wrecks me how this scene parallels the one from the opening. After guiding the last of the children Rocket pauses and looks down a hallway towards a cage. He slowly moves towards it. He’s drawn to it. This is the first parallel, in the beginning of the movie Rocket was inside the cage, looking out, now he’s on the outside looking in. 

Rocket gets to the cage and he pulls out the keycard he made. It’s been a burden he’s carried with him for years. It’s representative of the guilt he feels. A constant, heavy reminder that he failed to save his friends. That he got them killed. (which wasn’t his fault at all but survivor’s guilt doesn’t care about that) The use of the key is a parallel too but more so to Rocket’s overall backstory and not just the opening scene.

He uses the key now, and it still works. It opens the cage and reveals the raccoon kits, who all look up in curiosity. Also it’s very likely that the High Evolutionary never got new cages or changed them around so this could very well be the exact same cage that Rocket was kept in as a baby. 

Up until this point Rocket had adamantly denied being a raccoon. I think a large part of this is because it was always used in a negative context and so he took it as another way to demean him, the way ‘rodent’ or ‘vermin’ was used. (he’s not thrilled about Thor calling him a rabbit but he doesn’t react to it with the same vitriol and I think it’s because Thor used it alongside compliments. When you encounter an unfamiliar word context matters!) Even in the afterlife scene when Lylla, his dear friend, calls him a raccoon he still denies it.

But now, faced with these small, innocent babies and seeing that they’re raccoons, he realizes that it was never an insult. Because if these are what raccoons are then a raccoon is not a bad thing to be. After so many years he’s able to make peace with this side of himself. (And when he claims his full name later it’s so cathartic the build-up was perfecttttt 😭) 

So now we get to the next parallel. In the opening scene everything is very dark and in shadow. The feeling is foreboding and sinister. When the HE reaches his hand into the cage the kits cower away, frightened. When Rocket opens the cage the light is a bit brighter, it’s warmer. The kits don’t shy away.

They walk up to him with their bright little eyes and one kit puts its teeny tiny paws on Rocket’s nose. It’s like they know they’ll be safe with him. The way they all look at him it just… it literally brings me to tears every time I think of it 🥹

He wasn’t able to save his friends back then. But he can save these babies. He starts to gather them up in his arms, letting them climb over his back and shoulders until he’s carrying them all. One baby falls and he stops and picks it up so gently, so tenderly. He looks around at the other animals, still caged, and tears well up in his eyes, believing he won’t be able to save them all. 

But with the help of the other Guardians he does save them all. And while it wasn’t shown on-screen they likely used the keycard to free most if not all of them. The key was a chance at freedom. A glimmer of hope that was tarnished and twisted by guilt. But now it can represent hope again. Rocket getting to save those who were in the same situation as him and his friends and getting to be the hero he would’ve wanted back then is so powerful and heart-touching. I am so glad that he got to live, that he got to grow and find healing and closure ❤️This movie isn’t the end of his journey, it’s a new beginning. 

Oh and another thing that I love is that there’s no dialogue in this scene. The story is told entirely through the visuals and the music score, and that just makes it so much more impactful to me. It’s so beautiful. THE best thing to come out of the MCU and nothing will change my mind. So many fans wanted Rocket to encounter a regular raccoon and the majority of interpretations of this were comedic. (which are still fun and enjoyable, I’ve read some great fanfics that included the premise) But I am SO glad that the actual movie didn’t go that route when it would’ve been really easy to, and instead we were given this beautiful, tender, tear-jerking, heart-melting scene.  

[redrandomposts]

till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration

"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"

"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"

and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭

"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"

— 🌦️

HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO

doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming

everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.

"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"

"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"

"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"

"all of you are idiots!"

and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.

(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)

extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):

omegaverse

"...what the fuck?"

"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"

"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"

"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"

"holy fuck"

"it was indeed a fuck"

"did you know ivan could moa-"

"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"

"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"

"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"

"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"

"..."

"what the fuck."

"HE'S DEAD?"

"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"

android au

"...he owns ivan..?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"

"surely they fall in love, right?"

"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"

"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"

"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"

"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"

"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"

"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"

"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"

"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."

"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"

"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"

"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."

"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"

"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."

"..."

zombie au

"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"

"maybe this time, till will..."

"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"

"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"

"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"

"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"

"...ivan?"

"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"

"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"

"...at least we still have ivan."

"...and till knows he loves ivan."

"...and they kissed."

".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"

"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"

"..."

"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"

"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???

mermaid au

"oh my god he's a fish -"

"- ivan looks like a prince!"

"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"

"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"

"he's much better than some pearl, too."

"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."

"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."

"i wanna see ivan's smile..."

"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"

"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"

"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"

"...he looks so fine."

"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"

"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"

"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"

"what?"

"where'd the letter come from??"

"how's there sea foam???"

"IVANNNN!"

"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"

"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"

===

anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig

[powderpinkprincess]

Issues [Lando Norris x model!reader] 16+

description: When you and Lando go out clubbing together, it never ends well. You're jealous and he's frustrated. warnings: alcohol, some swearing, arguing, mentions of family abandonment

A/N: To tell you the truth, as a psych student I’m a sucker for dysfunctional relationships where Y/N gives his chosen one a little trouble (or reversed). It may be just me, but I couldn’t find many x readers like that, so I decided to test the waters and post my crazy stuff. (I have much more wicked things in my folder but I'll hold them back for now lol) Just to give a bit of a context though, I will write a few sentences of Y/N’s backstory for this one, so her actions make a little sense.

Your backstory: Your Dad is a rally driver and your Mom is a model. As their only child, they have always wanted you to follow their routes, so ever since your childhood you’ve been modelling. However, when you were 8, your parents got separated and your Mom left you to live with your Dad pretty much from one day to another. You met Lando through your Dad when you were 18. Back then you were setting unreasonably high bars for yourself in modelling, hoping to get back your Mom. After some time of dating, Lando asked you to leave that life behind and move to Monaco with him, hoping that you would finally start to heal in a new environment. (He loves you but he’s not a magician to make all your issues disappear.)

Through the past 3 years spent together, you and Lando learned that it was never a good idea to go out clubbing together. For both of your sakes, it was better when you were sticking to your own group of friends while partying. However, it has been a while since Lando’s best friend, Max Fewtrell visited Monaco with his girlfriend, so you couldn’t just stay at home while they dived into the nightlife. Lando didn’t want to leave you out, so he offered that you invited your best friend, Sasha, too.

Sasha understood you like no one else. You met her here in Monaco, and the two of you got very close over a relatively short time. She was also a model who moved to Monte Carlo from abroad, but her parents were really nice, so she ended up well. Lando liked her. She helped you grow a lot.

Lando reserved a table in the VIP lounge of a club, so you already had a place to go to. He was sitting next to you, his hand resting on your leg. The boys ordered two bottles of vodka for starters.

 “Alright, alright, let's drink," Max grinned, holding up his glass. You sipped on yours lightly, feeling your head already getting dizzy. It made your mind go quiet, a rare sensation for you. Lando was a little more active, talking loudly as Max told his stories from back in the UK. Sasha was on her phone, uploading photos of the four of you to her Instagram story.

 “When does your boyfriend arrive?” you yelled through the music to your best friend.

 “I think he said in like an hour or something,” she shrugged, finishing the vodka in her glass. “He better hurry, he’s missing out!”

 “The table is under Lando’s name,” you reminded her. “Tell him to call if he's close by so he can go and get him, otherwise the bouncers won't believe he's with us.”

 “Sure, I will,” Sasha grinned as she stood up. “I need to go to the ladies room. Wanna come with me?”

Sasha held out her hand to you, and you took it. Given that Lando reserved a table at the VIP section on the balcony, there weren't many people up there. The main dancefloor downstairs was shared with the non-VIP guests, but there was a smaller one up where you were seated.

When you appeared again, you were talking to another girl with Sasha by your side. As you sat back, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning over to talk to you through the music. “You alright?”

You just smirked and shrugged. Lando glanced at Sasha, who had a mischievous look glimmering in her eyes. He sighed and shook his head, downing the rest of his vodka. “Another round?” he asked.

One drink led to another and soon you were dancing. At first on the VIP floor, but then you decided to walk into the non-VIP crowd downstairs. An hour later Sasha’s boyfriend arrived, so Lando went to get him. The rest of you decided to get some fresh air by the entrance. On his way out, Lando met a fan, so he talked to her a little before making it to the front gate. Things got a little weird when she asked him to sign the tiny crop top she was wearing at the moment, but he’s gotten worse requests before. He quickly signed it, posed for a picture and then left.

When Lando returned, he couldn't help but notice how pissed you looked. He gently grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to the side, away from the hustle and bustle in the club.

 “What's wrong?” Lando asked, looking at you with slight concern.

 “You,” you answered without thinking.

Lando looked taken aback, raising one eyebrow. “Me? Why?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

 “You just keep forgetting you have a fucking girlfriend,” you glared.

Lando stared at you for a second silently, trying to process what you meant. He thought everything was okay, he hadn't done anything wrong... Had he?

 “I haven't forgotten anything,” he said, raising his hands in confusion. “What are you on about?”

Lando had a feeling where this conversation was going, and he didn't like it. You were a jealous type in general, but on a daily basis, Lando could handle that pretty well. However, drunk Y/N was something else, and paired with drunk Lando it was a recipe for disaster.

You just stared at him angrily. Lando was getting frustrated. He hated arguing sober and he hated arguing even more so drunk.

 “Will you stop being so vague and just spit it out?” he said, running his hand through his curls. “You're jealous, I get it, but what exactly have I done that has upset you?” Lando was genuinely confused. He thought tonight was going relatively well.

 “You know exactly what I'm talking about!” you crossed your arms as well. You couldn’t believe he didn’t. That girl was practically showing her boobs into his face!

Lando was getting angry now. He wanted to just be able to enjoy a simple night out with his friends, but you had to turn it into a fight. Not again, he didn't have the energy for this.

 “Clearly I don't know, seeing how I'm asking you,” he looked at you, shaking his head. “I haven't even looked at another girl all night long!”

 “Oh, great, that's even better. So, you don't even know what my problem is,” you mumbled to yourself, but he heard it.

 “No, Y/N. I don't.” Lando was getting tired of this now. "Please enlighten me," he leaned back on the wall behind him, rubbing his forehead.

 “No,” you turned away. “I won't make a fool of myself.”

Lando rolled his eyes. He was beginning to wonder why he even tolerated this. He loved you deeply and you were a great girlfriend most of the time, but the jealous fights were draining him.

 “Fine. I'm going back inside. See ya,” Lando shrugged and started walking back to the VIP section, where some of the others headed back already. Sasha was waiting for you a few steps away, so you would be fine with her.

Most of the time it was better to let you cool off a little before talking, but not when you were drunk. Him walking away was the cherry on top for you. You were so hurt and so triggered that you started crying. Sasha was now at your side, holding you close.

Lando found Max, who was sitting inside. He peeked out the window curiously when he saw that Lando returned alone and fuming.

 “What's wrong with Y/N? Why is she crying?” Max frowned.

Lando rubbed his face and shook his head. “We were just talking and out of nowhere, she starts yelling at me. Apparently I'm neglecting her or something, I have no idea. She won't talk to me, so I came back here. You know how she gets when she's drunk.”

Max leaned a little closer. As he was the only person that Lando told pretty much everything to. He has heard a lot about this type of issue as well, and he was on Lando’s side. He liked you, but it always pissed him off how you could hurt his best friend by your insecure behaviour sometimes.

 “Mate, why on earth are you tolerating this from her?” he asked, frowning.

Lando sighed. “She's my girlfriend. I love her. I know she loves me, too, she can just be a bit immature and a little controlling.” He took another sip of his vodka. “I know I shouldn't even be entertaining this behaviour but what the hell am I supposed to do?”

 “I don't know, man,” Max shook his head. “My girlfriend can be jealous too, but she never throws a fit.”

 “Yeah, cause she is reasonable. I'm a little jealous sometimes, too, I just don't show it. She really doesn't understand that sometimes I'm just working too hard, not neglecting her on purpose. She's very dependent on me,” Lando glanced back to the window, sighing deeply. “I’m not sure that is her problem right now though. I don’t know. I’ve tried to ask.”

Max just hummed.

Lando downed the last of his vodka. “I'll go back and talk to her. Wish me luck.” He stood up and headed for the exit, bracing himself for another fight.

As Lando approached the outside area, he saw you sitting on the ground, tears streaming down your face. You looked up at Lando as he sat down beside you. You didn’t expect him to come back. Whenever things got like this, you were sure he was done with you.

 “Hey, baby.” He gently brushed the hair out of your face and took your hand. It was an automatic response to try and comfort you.

 “What?” you scoffed in tears.

Sasha stepped further away to give you some space.

 “Look, come here,” Lando wrapped an arm around you and gave you a soft hug, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “I hate seeing you like this. Talk to me, please? What have I done?”

 “Do you even care? You walked away,” you cried.

Lando was getting frustrated again. He hated seeing you upset, but you weren't giving him anything to work with. “What was I supposed to do? If someone starts yelling at you and refuses to explain why, what am I supposed to do? You need to give me something here, darling,” Lando said. “I can't read your mind.”

 “I'm not asking you to read my mind! It should be obvious by now, you shouldn't need mindreading,” you retorted. Him still talking to fans who stepped over a certain boundary was nothing new in your relationship.

 “Well, it isn't obvious,” Lando raised his voice a little. “What is it? Do you think I'm paying more attention to my career than to you? Am I spending too much time with other girls? Am I not giving you enough affection?” He was just guessing and hoping that he would get it right. He couldn't stand this any longer.

 “Those are only my problems in general,” you pouted.

Lando was at a loss. He shook his head and sighed. “Alright, I give up. You won’t tell me, but you won't stop crying? What do you want me to do to help? I can't fix your problems if you don't tell me what the problem is.”

 “I want you to apologize!” you wiped your cheeks.

 “Apologize?” Lando sighed. He took a few moments to gather his thoughts before looking deeply into your eyes. “All right, I apologize. I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted me to say? Can you stop crying now?”

 “No because you weren't serious. You still don't know what you've done,” you shook your head.

You were really testing his patience now. Lando was tired, you were both drunk, and he just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night, but here you were, fighting again. “What do you want from me, Y/N? Seriously. I don't know what's wrong, I've tried asking, but you won't tell me,” he said, staring at you with frustrated eyes.

 “Why did you keep talking to that girl?!” you finally blurted out.

Lando frowned. Which girl? He didn’t remember talking to any girls besides Sasha and Max’s girlfriend. Oh, and that fan he met while getting Sasha’s boyfriend. Lando sighed deeply, his heart sinking. Why couldn't he just have one night out in peace? He took a deep breath to calm himself down before responding to your accusation. “Y/N, I'm a Formula One driver, I talk to a lot of people,” he tried eventually. “Are you talking about the one that came up to me? Cause talking to fans is literally part of my job. It’s in my contract.”

 “But you’re off season!” you retorted.

 “Does it matter? If a fan wants to talk to me, I can't just tell them to piss off. Or do you want me to be rude?” he asked. He was slowly getting worked up again. It wasn’t just that arguing about this was ridiculous, but also that your heavy feelings always touched him somehow. Even when he didn’t want to be affected.

 “I don’t want you to be rude. I want you to spend your time with us, with me,” you sniffled. “Fans get so much of your attention during the season. Just send them away, you’re on a holiday.”

 “That would be rude,” he answered immediately. “Besides, what's the big deal? I was just talking, I was not hitting on her. We shared like two sentences. Why do you want to fight with me so bad?”

 “I’m not trying to fight you, but you were talking to a girl who was obviously flirting with you! You just don’t see it anymore because everyone loves you so much,” you cried. You were terrified of losing him because he found someone better. There were plenty of girls trying their ways all the time, just like this one.

Lando shook his head, clearly getting more impatient and frustrated with the conversation. “Okay, let's say she was flirting with me. So what? This is ridiculous, Y/N. You have no trust in me. You think that any girl I talk to is automatically a threat to our relationship? You know what that screams? Insecurity. I love you, but I can't keep having this conversation every time we go out. You're not being fair to me.”

 “I'm not being fair?!” you hiccupped.

Lando clenched his jaw, trying not to lose his temper. “Yes, you're not being fair. How would you feel if I accused you of cheating every time you spoke to another man? That would be unfair, wouldn't it? It's the same for me. Why is it ok then that you assume I'm trying to get with every woman I look at?”

 “I didn't say that!” your eyes widened. His anger was scaring you now.

 “You don't have to. I can read you like a book. How about I go over every guy you've ever talked to and accuse you of flirting with them, does that sound fair?”

His defensiveness made you also feel like you had to defend yourself. “No, I just mean that you told me the other day that people annoy you because they won't leave you alone even in your time off, yet you are talking to them as if they were your favourites!”

 “Y/N, I can't ignore them all the time! They pay their hard-earned money to buy a ticket to a race to cheer for me. I can't just brush them aside and look like an arrogant dickhead,” Lando sighed. “Baby, this is exhausting. Why do you question my loyalty to you every time I'm around another woman? I’ve never given you a reason, and it makes me feel like you don't trust me at all. Trust is the foundation of any relationship, without it, we have nothing.”

Your heart sank. He just said that you have no trust in him. Did he mean that…?

  “We have nothing?” you echoed quietly.

Lando felt his heart twist with guilt. He knew your abandonment issues were always there, lingering beneath the surface, and he cursed himself for triggering them in this situation. “No, that's not what I meant. You're twisting my words. We have something special, and I don't want to lose you. But I can't be in a relationship where I feel like I'm constantly being accused of doing something wrong when I'm not. It's not fair to me, Y/N.”

 “So you want to leave?” you sobbed out. What did he mean he couldn’t be in a relationship like yours?

Lando's heart sank as he looked at your distraught face. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel abandoned, especially since the history you had with your Mom leaving. He knew how deeply it affected you still to this day. He knew how much it hurt you.

He took a deep breath and spoke softly. “No, Y/N. I don't want to leave. I want us to fix this. I want you to trust me, to see that I love you and I am not going to cheat on you. But we need to find a way to communicate better, to hear each other out.”

You were just crying and crying. Your buttons were obviously pushed, no matter how Lando tried to avoid it. You were so easily hurt when you were drunk.

Lando was feeling completely frustrated and helpless. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. “Are you going to let me hold you and comfort you at least, or are you going to push me away?” he asked softly, his voice a mix of exhaustion and worry.

You glared at him. “You are the one saying that you can’t be in a relationship like this, yet you keep accusing me that I wanna push you away!”

 “Because you are!” Lando exclaimed, his frustration beginning to boil over. “You're being so passive-aggressive! You won't tell me what's wrong, but you cry and push me away when I try to comfort you. What am I supposed to do, Y/N?”

 “I don't know!” you snapped back. “I'm sorry that it's so hard to love me, okay? But I never forced you to date me! I know it is hard to deal with me, I know that I have so many problems, you don’t have to keep rubbing it in.”

Lando sighed. “Y/N, it's not hard to love you. It's hard when you don't communicate with me. You can't just expect me to read your mind and know what you want from me, I can't do that.” He was trying to convey his feelings as clearly and as gently as possible, but deep down, he felt a growing sense of helplessness. He didn't want this to turn into another explosive argument. “Can we please just talk about this without yelling? Please?”

 “I'm not yelling!” you yelled.

 “Yes, you are yelling,” he replied firmly, trying to maintain a calm demeanour. “I am trying here, Y/N. I am trying to talk to you, to understand what is going on with you. But you're shouting at me, and it's not helping. Can you tone it down, please?”

At first you wanted to yell back to defend yourself, but then his words finally sank in. You took a shuddering breath and nodded.

 “Thank you,” Lando allowed himself a small smile. “I love you, okay?”

You nodded silently.

 “Do you love me?” he asked.

You nodded again.

 “Great. Then we will work this out, yeah? Maybe not tonight,” he quickly glanced at his watch. “It’s past midnight anyway. We’ll go back inside, enjoy the rest of the time here, then we’ll take a cab and go home. Max and his girlfriend are planning to go on a date tomorrow, so we’ll have the house for ourselves to talk. It will be alright.”

You sniffled and wiped your face. Lando pulled you close, and you finally allowed him. Miscommunication was a common root of argument in your relationship, you knew it. Thinking back now that you weren’t in fear of him leaving you, you could’ve just told him what hurt you right away.

Lando held you for a minute before he took your hand and started leading you back inside. If one thing was for sure, it was that waterproof mascara was a godsent product in your rollercoaster of a life.