#there are some female gendered songs

[carebooks]

am i the only one out here disappointed by the edits on yt made with taylor’s ‘who’s afraid of little old me?’

it’s has such a female rage quality to it, so when i see a character like paul atreides, anakin skywalker, the JOKER being used for that song— it’s like no one ever listened to it.

the song isn’t about going down the bad path or becoming a villain, it’s about someone who after being pushed to the edge so many times, being withheld from things, and not getting a choice. she’s called crazy and it is because they’re doing it to her intentionally. she played the game too well that they had to put her down in order to control her again.

but she doesn’t let that happen. she finally breaks away from it, she realizes they’re afraid of her and she can use that. and she learned from them, so she can use that too. it’s a quiet build up and despite what people think that it’s a villain-era song, it’s more about putting on this villain-looking cloak to protect yourself from what’s happened.

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[bluewarf]

my gender is the florence and the machine cover of "search and destroy"

[dualitysdownfall]

who's gonna tell youtube cover singers they don't have to label their videos with "female version" "male cover" like you can just say you sang the song

[dellinah]

Thats interesting that they named Brer Fox, Honest John, in one dub? Was the intention to make Brer Fox the same as the Fox in Pinocchio?

THAT'S EXACTLY WHY IT BOTHERS ME SO MUCH AHSJAGS !! Bc I honestly hate the fox from Pinocchio and hate that they were given the same name. Esp when Br'er Fox is already way less known than him >.>

But no, in the dubs he's never refered to as Honest John. His name was adapted to Comrade Fox / Fox / Brother Fox / Mister Fox in the movies. It was only in the comics and further material that he was renamed Honest John. Br'er Rabbit's name also changed to Quincas Rabbit and Br'er Bear's name was Big John in the comics.

Idt they tried to imply they were the same character, I think it was either a coincidence or homage of some sort, who knows. I highly doubt the people translating the comics even knew who Br'er Fox or what Song of the south was, tbh. That movie was never big here (even less so, i mean)

This is smth that most english speakers will never really see in their media, since english is usually the default. Adapting and dubbing over material to a different language is a hella MESSY process, and sometimes we as the public end up confused. Sometimes you end up with bad translations, bad adaptations, or several different studios that dub/adapt the same characters in different ways. Which is why he doesn't even have a canon name in Brazil, the way you call him will depend on which dub you used to watch.

He doesn't even have a canon gender in some places. Latin languages are gendered, and most animals are male. However, Fox (Raposa) is a female word by default. So in a few dubs in Italy he's actually changed to a female to make the translation easier.

So, yep, it was just a messy process and dumb decisions. Im still mad about it tho. I usually just call him Br'er Fox anyway, but if you ask me then his 'canon' name here is just Raposa (Fox) bc thats the dub i gew up with

[sincerelyneo]

golden hour | l.mk

“i’ve got a really big problem…”

💿now playing: golden hour by mark

❯ summary: Mark’s got a really big problem; you. The pretty neighbour that shares a bedroom wall with him. You’re a night owl and you’re so loud and are you…listening to his music whilst masturbating…? Fuck now he’s hard. Guess he’s got two really big problems.

❯ pairings: mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: neighbours, smut

❯ words: 2.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, masturbation, mark’s a loser for the plot, very explicit details of sexual fantasies, reader uses she/her pronouns and female gendered terms, literally just mark being horny whilst reader gets off to his song.

Mark needs to move out. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take the old run-down building his apartment is located in having no working elevator. If you’d have told him two years ago when he signed his dream music contract with a real record label that he’d be climbing six flights of stairs after a long week of work he’d have called you a liar. But that’s what happens when people aren’t listening to your music. 

Maybe he's overreacting; the building isn’t that terrible. It has its perks—like the pretty view. And it’s usually quiet—well, it was until his lively new neighbor moved in. Mark might have thought of you as a perk when he first saw you, considering you’re exactly his type, so fucking beautiful. But you’re also so fucking loud.

You always seem to have something going on—plans, hobbies, parties, meetings, friends. Mark knows because the walls between you and him are thin, and you’re never quiet, never still. At first, he thought it was kind of cute, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realises he’s been so distracted by how attracted he is to you, he’s been letting your noisy lifestyle slide.

It’s not like he wants to knock on your door and ask you to keep it down; he’s too worried you’d think he’s some kind of loser. Even at twenty-five, he still craves female validation like he’s a high schooler—so he’s been putting up with the sleepless nights. Another reason why he needs to move asap. 

The lack of sleep, combined with the endless stairs, has left Mark drained this past month. He can practically hear his sofa calling his name, can taste the cold bottles of beer that sit in his fridge as he reaches the top step. He may be a tad out of breath and a little sweaty but he’s got the weekend off and that’s all he can think about. But unlike you, Mark’s life is boring. The most exciting thing about his weekend is the idea of not having to climb his complex’s stairs until Monday. 

Meh. He could dwell on the mundane schedule of his life for hours but he gets distracted. Distracted by his pretty little nightmare neighbour. 

You're all dressed up in a tight gold dress that clings to every inch of your body. Your hair falls down your back as you lock your door, tucking the keys into the tiny clutch hanging from your shoulder.

That’s when you notice him too.

“Oh, hey,” you greet him softly, offering a bright and friendly smile. 

Mark returns it, his chest swelling. There's no denying you’re a beautiful girl. And although he’s overheard your phone calls about parties through the thin walls, and the hum of your hair dryer as you get ready for nights out, he’s never actually seen you in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. He’s never been given the opportunity to see you so dolled up, to notice the little love handles he can all of a sudden imagine himself gripping. He clears his throat and smiles wider.

“Hi Y/N…you look nice!” He compliments kindly, fingers fiddling with his own keys. 

Nice? 

The word replays in his mind. He’s spent endless nights thinking about how beautiful you are and now he’s finally got to feed his craving of seeing you in tight clothes but the only word he can muster up is nice? Oh he hates himself. 

But then he sees you blush at the comment, and he loves the way you purse your lips, trying to hide a shy smile. A part of him is annoyed that you’re blushing over something so simple—he thinks every man should be showering you with compliments, and you should expect more than nice. Still, there’s something about the way you squirm from his words that has his cock throbbing.

He wonders if it’s because you’re attracted to him too. It’s not completely out of the question. You know who he is, of course you do. You see each other in passing a lot but you’ve also spoken on the day you moved in. Mark remembers it like it was yesterday. 

He could hear you panting and cursing in the hall, hauling boxes up and down the stairs before he came out to help. You didn’t recognise him at first, not until he was in your apartment setting boxes down.

That’s when you turned to him with wide eyes and a breathy, “oh wow, aren’t you the dude that sang ‘Golden Hour’?”

Mark started blinking at you like a deer in the headlights. He’d never encountered a fan in person before, he had a small community online, but his music hadn’t exactly been taking off like he planned. So you can imagine his surprise when his new (extremely attractive) neighbour knew one of his songs. 

“Thank you,” your soft voice breaks him from his memory, and moves his focus. “Just a night out with the girls, been a long week,” you sigh. 

He wants to hear all about your long week, wants to be the one to make it better—maybe convince you to skip the girls’ night and spend it with him instead. But he doesn’t. He doesn't even let the thought linger for more than a moment before he’s nervously tapping his key against his thumb.

“Well have fun, and be safe,” he settles on tenderly. 

You nod with a small smile, giving a gentle wave before turning to leave. He watches you until you’ve rounded the corner, only then unlocking his door and kicking off his shoes with a sigh.

Mark grabs a bottle of beer from the kitchen, kicking the fridge door closed behind him. His entire apartment is dark and it reminds him of the loneliness he’s been feeling for the last six months. Mark never really thought about love and relationships before he met you. Sure, he likes to fool around as much as the next person, but he’s always been fine with being on his own. But you remind him of the lonely. 

He’s never longed for love and friendships but a secret part of him craves a woman by his side… craves the woman next door.

He wonders what it’d be like for you to be cuddled into his side as you watch a movie. Wonders if you’d laugh at certain parts and crane your neck up to pepper tender kisses to his soft lips. Mark squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, tries to rid the thoughts of you from his mind.

But it’s proven a little more difficult when he moves from the couch to take a shower and the water is running down his tense and naked body. He struggles to not think about you on your knees, touching his thick cock and kissing up his thighs.

He has to swallow back the lump in his throat and blinks away the urge to touch himself to the thought of you. He refuses to be that kind of guy. He’s not that kind of guy. So he gets out the shower and does the only thing he likes doing — music. 

Mark tries out new melodies on his guitar, humming broken lyrics and soft tunes he’ll be sure to show his producer on Monday. After a while he catches sight of the clock on the wall and it’s already a little past midnight. After locking his doors he’s crawling into bed and ready to sleep; but then he hears something. 

A soft giggle muffled from the wall behind his head. 

Mark’s fully aware the two of you share the same wall for your beds, rooms mirroring each other, but he’s never heard this kind of sweet giggle fall from your lips so late at night. He tries not to let the sound affect him, but there’s only one reason why a girl like you could be giggling at this hour after a night out. 

You’ve brought someone home? But Mark can’t hear a man’s voice, not even the slightest grunt or groan of male muttering. He can only hear soft giggling slipping from his favourite pair of lips.

And then he hears a robotic voice announcing that the Bluetooth is successfully connected and he knows he’s about to hear your fuck playlist. The thought sends a thrill through his body and he knows he’s unlikely going to get any sleep tonight.

He’s about to get up, to move to the sofa in the living room, to not be disrespectful and a perv by listening to you getting off, but he hears a familiar hammering of drums and a guitar muffled through the paper-thin walls and his eyes are bulging.

“Give me my A course, ice is so big like a glacier” 

You’re giggling again and he can hear your body fall against the sheets of the bed – the bed that’s very clearly pushed up against the same wall his is. It creaks under your weight, and Mark feels the wall tremble slightly as your bed frame knocks against his wall.

He’s tried so hard not to be that guy, but his hand finds its way in his boxers before he can fully comprehend what he’s doing. He’s rock fucking hard, red and veiny and he takes off his boxers, leaving him sprawled on his back, completely bare.

He hears your soft whimpers, can hear you hum in appreciation even over the buzzing of your vibrator and the thumping of his song. He doesn’t know what’s turning him on more; the fact that he can hear you getting off and moaning out, or that you’re listening to him while trying to cum. 

Either way, his hand is wrapped tight around his thick length, thumbing over his oozing tip. He thinks of how you must be, how you’d look completely whilst naked and sprawled out on the bed for him. Mark imagines himself on top of you, kissing your perky tits he loves to think about and wrapping his lips around your swollen nipples. His mind feels like it can taste you on his tongue, can feel your dainty fingers tugging at his hair as he laps you.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp loud enough for him to hear.  

It makes him imagine your eyes rolling back when he finally fucks himself inside your tight little cunt, he visions the look of ecstasy on your face when your jaw would become completely slack and your body quivers for him. He knows you’d feel him deep in your stomach. He knows he’d be so big for you. 

“Fuck,” he slips out in a desperate pant.

He’s completely breathless, tugging at his dick, spitting down on it to get it all wet for you. He knows you’re so much wetter on the other side of the damn wall, and that he’d rather be sinking into your wet pussy but his spit would have to do. 

He throws his head back in his pillow, eyes shut tight, allowing his mind to work over time. 

“Fuck, Mark… I need it.”

Everything feels surreal, like he’s in his own personal heaven with a touch of hell. You’re crying out for more, for him, begging for it deeper, harder, and he finds himself fucking into his fist just as desperately. Like his soft palm is your silky pussy.

Mark can’t focus on anything other than your sweet fucking cries that sound otherwordly against his song. It makes him think about how much he’d love to record your moans, use them in his next song. But then he’d never be able to release it — because they’re his to hear. 

It’s when the bridge starts that you really let yourself go, filthy fucking moans, the speed of the vibrator increasing, and God he wishes he could watch you right now. See you trembling and begging as the instrumental plays out loud and hard. 

He can’t handle it.

Gruff moans are slipping past his lips and he does nothing to try and conceal them. The muscles in his arm are burning but he fucks his cock harder, imaging what it’d be like to feel his balls slap against your ass as he pounds into you.

He can feel the coil tightening in his stomach, the way his cock starts to twitch. His imagination grows wild and filthy, every single fantasy he’s tried locking away to not be that guy now flooding his mind because you’re that girl. 

That girl that’s using his music to cum. That girl that wants to hear his voice as she gets off. That girl who’s doing it with no shame, no guilt. That girl that’s using him. 

The thought takes Mark’s mind to sinful places. “Take it,” he can hear himself seeth through gritted teeth. He imagines you begging for his cum, taking it like the good fucking girl you are.

“Ugh, fuuckk I’m cumming!” Mark cries out gruffly through strangled moans and he hears your screams follow.

Your bed is creaking louder than before and he knows your thighs have got to be trembling as you cum around your vibrator. Mark’s hand and thighs are covered in thick ribbons of white arousal and when his eyes flutter open, through his blotched vision, he imagines seeing you kneeling between his thighs and licking it up.

He’s completely fucked as he hears his song mellow out and you aren’t moaning anymore. Instead, he can hear  breathless little pants. He stays where he is for a second, eager to see what else he can hear. But there’s nothing — only complete and utter silence.

Mark doesn’t sleep the entire night. He can’t. He’s kept awake with the guilt of listening to his pretty neighbour. Or is it with the thrill of knowing it was his voice that got you off that's making him so restless? 

[yuff7e]

Hi angel I love your layout!! Your blog is so cutesy :D Can I rq Sanemi bf headcanons? :-)

⋆.ೃ sanemi bf headcanons !! ࿔*:･ sfw / fluff / headcanons

gender neutral

hi anon !! i love sanemi, he’s the cutest !! and thank you, also the angel nickname has me twirling with cuteness :3 ur the angel for requesting !! enjoy <3

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

- pure definition of “i hate everyone but you”

- like actually

- buddy doesn’t like no one besides his brother and you atp

- he’s over here cuddling you when no one’s looking and then slashing demons heads off w 0 remorse the next second

- honestly a pretty good sweet talker i would think

- he knows what to say to you to sweep you off your feet, he just doesn’t do it often

- in the right setting he will, but then he gets a little flustered with the affection you give him afterwards

- he likes taking the lead in anything, no matter what it is

- if you want to eat something new he’ll take a bite first “just in case”

- has extreme trust issues, so when you came around it took him a while to actually warm up to you

- so it took him an even longer time actually beginning to like you

- and then it took him LONGER to start dating you

- but he’s def worth the wait, you have a personal bodyguard for LIFE.

- i would think he’s extremely loyal, since he already doesn’t trust anyone and seeing how he’s trusted you enough to start dating you - id think he thinks you’re the one type-thing

- like, he picked you and wants a future with you

- you’re not just some partner that he’s dating “just cause”

- like no he saw visions of yalls future kids FLASH BEFORE HIS EYES BRO.

- he saw visions.

- jk lol

- maybe.

- he’s crazy so maybe yeah, he did see visions…..

- he’s not the biggest fan of physical touch, but really likes acts of service and words of affirmation

- if you go and do something for him he’s on his knees for you (promise not in a weird way, unless you want it to be lol)

- or if you praise him he gets a little flustered and turns his head away from you to hide the faint blush on his cheeks

- “hey, stop that.”

- “sorry!! you’re just so cool baby, i could talk about you forever.”

- “[name]!!”

- honestly, i definitely see him being pretty overprotective

- especially with what you wear and what you do

- not in a abusive way, but hey, we’re talking about feral sanemi here

- like, if you’re a female and one of the hashiras and they give you an outfit like mitsuris - he’s immediately turning that down

- unless you didn’t date until after and you were wearing that, he’d make you change

- “you don’t need the other boys over here staring at you, just me.”

- or if you were a guy and saw you helping another girl he’d be giving HEAAVYYY side eye

- like hello sir it’s fine

- or if you had a reputation to be flirtatious with the girls/guys there before you two had started dating, and still decided to date you after that you have another thing coming

- the night he confessed to you he was like “and if i see you talking with any girls/guys, it won’t end well.”

- bros like misa where she’s like “if i see you with another girl, ill kill her.”

- like OKAAYY buddy calm down it’s never that serious

- he feigns over you too, like crazy

- again, not in a weird way (unless you want it to be)

- i mean yeah it can be weird you’re adults, but like he always wants to be by you and if he’s away from you for a hot minute he’s (mysteriously) rushing back to wherever you’re at

- he needs his aura to 1000+ or he won’t be happy

- he’s lovable, and he loves you

i’m so tired, i’ve written 5 fics today and i’m worn out !! i’ll get to everyone’s tomorrow, goodnight loves <3

REQUESTS : OPEN

[chocolatepot]

Hi! Can you elaborate on "Fuck GRRM's committment to 'historical realism' without knowing anything about medieval social history"? I would love to know about what GRRM gets wrong about medieval gender roles, specifically.

So Cersei learns at an early age that she has no agency, her only value is producing heirs and is barred from traditional routes of power so she has to use underhanded methods such as influencing men with sex or using underhanded magical means. I would love an explanation on why this doesn't reflect medieval queen consorts and noble women irl.

Sure! The basic summary is: GRRM "knows" the things that everyone "knows" about the middle ages, which are broad stereotypes often reflective of a) primary sources that deserve a critical reading rather than being taken at face value and b) the judgements of later periods making themselves look better at the medieval period's expense.

As Shiloh Carroll argues, building on the work of Helen Young, “readers are caught in a ‘feedback loop’ in which Martin’s work helps to create a neomedieval idea of the Middle Ages, which then becomes their idea of what the Middle Ages ‘really’ looked like, which is then used to defend Martin’s work as ‘realistic’ because it matches their idea of the real Middle Ages.”

Since you're mainly interested in Cersei here, I'd strongly recommend a book: Queenship and the Women of Westeros: Female Agency and Advice in Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire, edited by Zita Eva Rohr and Lisa Benz. It's an excellent read and speaks to exactly what you're asking about. The tone of the book is very positive and non-judgemental when it comes to GRRM and his depictions of women on the whole, but I think some of this is rhetorical positioning to not seem like "mean angry academics jumping on fiction for not being accurate," as the actual content turns the reader to thinking about how much agency and power medieval queens had in different European societies and how little of that worked its way into GRRM's worldbuilding.

It's true that women typically didn't inherit titles and thrones in their own right, and that they were usually given in marriage for political/dynastic reasons. However, they weren't seen as brood mares whose only duty was to pop out sons: both queens and noblewomen had roles to play as household managers, counselors, and lieutenants, actively participating in the ruling of their domains and in local and international diplomacy (women in political alliances were not just pawns sent to a powerful man's bed, but were to act as ambassadors for their families and to pass information back and forth), and they had to be raised with an understanding of this so that they could learn to do it. Motherhood was very important, don't get me wrong, but it's a mistake to assume as pop culture does that a wife's foremost duty being to provide heirs for her family meant that she was ONLY seen as a mother/potential mother.

Catelyn is a great example of what was expected of women in these positions. But in the books, Catelyn is basically the only woman who inhabits this role, and the impression given is that she's exceptional, that she's just in charge of the household because she's so great at it that Ned allows her to be his partner, and that he listens to her advice because she happens to be a wise person in his orbit - and also that Ned is exceptional for giving so much power to a woman, because in the world of ASOIAF, it takes an especially good man to do this. In GRRM's view of the medieval world, realpolitik and the accumulation of power are the most important things, so men in Westeros are extremely unlikely to give up any authority to their wives, even though this is historically inaccurate.

Cersei, on the other hand, is supposed to be a more realistic depiction of what would happen to an ambitious medieval woman. There's a chapter titled "Queen of Sad Mischance: Medievalism, “Realism,” and the Case of Cersei Lannister" in the book I've rec'd, and it deals with why this is problematic extremely well. (This is the source of the quote at the top of this post.) In it, Kavita Mudan Finn argues that Cersei embodies pretty much every medieval trope for the illegitimate wielding of power by a woman. She underhandedly gets people killed for opposing her, she seduces men into doing her bidding, she advances her family's interests and her own at the expense of the realm. She's made sympathetic through fannish interpretation and Lena Headey's performance, but in the text she's an evil woman doing evil things. Even when she gets to be regent for her son - a completely legitimate historical position that allowed women to handle the levers of power almost exactly like a king - she continues to do shitty things and not be taken seriously because she's just not good at ruling.

But even before then, from a medieval perspective she had access to completely legitimate power that she didn't use: she'd have had estates giving her a large personal income, religious establishments to patronize (giving her a good reputation as a pious woman and people she'd put in high positions being personally loyal to her), artists and writers to patronize as well, power over her household, men around her listening to her counsel. That she doesn't have that is a reflection of GRRM either deciding these things don't really exist in Westeros in order to make it a worse world than medieval Europe and justify Cersei feeling she had to use underhanded means of power, or not knowing that they were ordinary and unexceptional because he has a good working knowledge of the politics of the Wars of the Roses but little to no knowledge of social history beyond pop culture osmosis, and, imo, little to no interest in actual power dynamics.

There are a lot of books I'd recommend on this subject. There's a series from Palgrave Macmillan called "Queenship and Power" and nearly all the books in it are THE BEST. Theresa Earenfight's Queenship in Medieval Europe is a very readable introduction to the situations of queens in European societies across the continent. She also has a book, Women and Wealth in Late Medieval Europe, that also addresses non-royal women's power. I'm also a huge fan of English Aristocratic Women, 1450-1550: Marriage and Family, Property and Careers, by Barbara Harris, which really emphasizes the "career" aspect of women's lives as administrators and diplomats.

[darkbluekies]

jerry x idol reader (any gender but preferably fem reader)

reader is a super famous and beloved by many (including jerry) and this causes reader to have some stalkers (including jerry jajaja)

anyways jerry is walking home one day and sees someone getting kidnaped and was going to just leave and then *gasp* its her baby girl idol reader but oh nooo the person trying to kidnap reader had knocked them out so jerry saves the day (yippee!!) and help nurse them back to heath but oh no now that jerry has them why would she let them go??????

SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH also sorry if you have already done this

Starstruck

Female!mafia!yandere x fem!kpop!idol reader

Summary: Jerry gets to finally have her little kpop girl to herself and will never let her go

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of starvation, disordered eating, faking death, yandere, mafia, mentions of sexualisation, handcuffs, humiliation, self hate, loneliness, drugging

Word count: 4.2k

The earbuds are deep into her ears, blasting your groups new single. It must be her favorite comeback yet. You came back with a bright bubblegum concept for the spring, with the song being everything Jerry rejects. You’re the rapper, with the sweetest voice Jerry has ever heard. You’ve been called ‘siren voice’ on numerous fan accounts and in articles. She can’t help but grin ear to ear while fiddling with the phone. You’re her wallpaper, her profile picture on social media and her photocard in her phone case. She has been to your concerts, your fan meets, your birthday cafe’s and — thanks to her contacts — been able to find out where you stay for overseas promotions, your phone number, your siblings names and countless other things that Jerry loves to keep for herself. When she’s tired, she watches your variety shows and vlogs, often falling asleep to them when she feels lonely.

Everyone around her knows about her love for your group — and especially you — and no one dares to talk badly about it. Jerry, the gang’s coldest and rudest member is soft for a little kpop girl and they can’t help but let her have that. They even give her your merchandise on her birthday. 

You’re the same age but you couldn’t be more different. You are humble, sweet and full of charms … Jerry is a murderer, involved with a criminal gang and unpleasant. She has talked to you a couple of times during fan meets, but only for a minute at a time, and you’ve always been so nice to her. You’ve admired her tattoos and thanked her for gifts. You’ve held her hands and smiled at her. Not many people do that to Jerry. Most people give her disgusted looks and stay as far away from her as possible … but not you. You’re the best person Jerry has ever come across … and she’s just … Jerry. 

Unfortunately, she isn’t the only one that loves you. More people have figured out how wonderful you are and have started to follow you wherever you go. Jerry had believed that she was your only stalker, but was proven wrong when an article came out about a person breaking into your group’s dorm and scaring you and your members. The police caught him, but didn’t do anything about it. Jerry took things in her own hands and, together with a ‘friend’ of hers, killed him. She enjoyed the feeling of his blood on her hands and is certain to do it again. As long as you are safe, she will continue to kill for you. 

She’s next in line. Jerry can barely understand that she’s going to talk to you again. She has a small goodie bag in her shaking hands. Damn those hands, exposing her. She isn’t nervous when following enemies through dark alleyways, killing them ruthlessly … but she feels like she’s going to faint when talking to you. She doesn’t want to talk to your members, only you. But she doesn’t want you to think that she is rude, so she always manages some cold smalltalk. 

She talks with your members for a minute each before she finally reaches you. Oh God, you. Your pink hair makes you glow and your bright smile could melt Jerry’s ice cold heart. 

“Hi!” you gasp in surprise and wave at her, almost doing jazzhands. “I remember you!”

Jerry feels her heart stop. 

“D-Do you?” she asks and hits herself for stammering. 

She sits down in front of you. 

“It’s you with the tattoos!” you smile. 

“I wanted to give this to you”, Jerry says and puts the small goodie bag on the table. 

“Really? For me?” You pout. “You’re so nice. 

You open the bag and pulls out a little bag charm in the shape of a sun. You smile, touched at the sweet gesture, and meet Jerry’s eyes. 

“It’s so cute, thank you so much!” you say. “I love it, I will wear it all the time.”

You start to admire the little plush sun. Jerry stares at you with emotions she can’t explain. She feels guilty for looking at you, yet so very thankful. In her darkest moments, you have been there without even realizing, but she pities you that you have to be the one she’s obsessed with. You, who never wants anything to do with things Jerry does, and Jerry who involves you without you knowing. But Jerry is so happy that you exist, that you can give her a few moments of escape from her cruel and dark life.

You suddenly frown.

“Why are you crying?” you ask and hurry to take her hands. “Don’t cry.”

Jerry hurries to dry the tears she didn’t even notice that she was spilling.  Your soft hand comes up to wipe one of her tears.

“Don't cry, it's okay”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry whispers.

Fucking hell she doesn't deserve you.

She picks up her phone to see that you’ve posted a new selfie on Instagram. Your strawberry pink hair brightens up your face, making you even cuter than you already are. She presses the heart icon, but frowns. It’s near two am, you should sleep, not post gorgeous selfies on Instagram. The pic must have been taken earlier today, youre wesring the same clothes and hairstyle as you did during yhe fansign, but that gives you no reason to publish them now. If you could have waited until two am, you could have waited until the morning. But, nonetheless, Jerry smiles. It was as if you posted the picture specifically for her. She’s on her way home, walking the dark streets of Seoul all by herself. Maybe you knew that she needed a bit of cheering up?

Muffled screaming cuts through the headphones and Jerry glances up, seeing two men trying to pull a woman with them. The darkness hides their faces. Jerry decides to ignore them and take another way home, not wanting anything to do with other people’s business, but suddenly notices the familiar pink hair. She takes a few steps closer and freezes with realization that the pink haired lady about to get pulled into a black van is none other than her little kpop girl!

Jerry pulls up her gun from her belt and hurries over. She doesn’t want to shoot them in front of you, but she knows that it will be enough to scare them away. These men are just normal pathetic stalkers, not real criminals.

She wastes no time trying to talk or intimidate them. One of the men tries to attack her, but he isn’t prepared for Jerry’s many years of martial arts training. She's quicker, smaller, more precise. As soon as they're down, she grabs you by the arm and runs. You're crying as you run beside her. And suddenly, you fall.

 “Oh, shit!” Jerry gasps and hurries to catch you. “You can't faint here!”

She sinks down beside the building's wall with you in her arms, breathing heavily. Jerry has never seen you this close before and she can't stop staring. She knows that you are gorgeous, but you're unbelievable in reality. Jerry stands up and picks you up in her arms before starting to walk towards her apartment. She can't leave you alone in the middle of the street … and she most certainly won't give you back to your agency. They can't protect you like she can, she thinks, just watch what just happened and all the other times you've been close to harm. Jerry will make sure nothing ever happens to you again.

As soon as she comes into her apartment, she locks the door behind her and carries you to her bedroom, places you down into her bed, tucking you in. Jerry stares at you with wide eyes as she slowly backs away from the bed. You are in her bed …she never thought that this would happen … but here you are. Her little kpop girl.

Jerry scoffs with a smile and runs her hand through her black shoulder length hair. 

She fumbles for her phone and calls her boss.

“What is it, Jerry?” he asks before she has the time to say anything.

“You will never guess what just happened”, Jerry smiles. 

“What?”

“Let me turn on video chat …” she presses the little icon with shaking fingers and directs the camera towards your face. “Do you see that? Do you see who I have?”

Her boss breaks out into a smile.

“No fucking way you kidnapped her”, he chuckles. “You're unbelievable. Do you think she will fall in love with you? After you've kidnapped her?”

“I saved her, she will thank me.”

“I doubt that you will let her go.”

“Of course I won't. How am I going to be able to let her go back to her shit company? They don't even protect her properly and they mistreat her! Besides, I will save her from all of those creeps that she has as fans.”

“Are you really going to pull her into this world? How nice is that, hm?”

Jerry feels a spark ignite in her chest.

“Mind your own fucking business, will you?” she snarls. “I don't tell you how to deal with your private life.” With that said she hangs up.

Anger is still bubbling in her chest, but when she looks at you, it all disappears. She sighs sadly. I'm sorry, Y/N. I will make sure nothing happens to you. I promise.

She brings a chair to the bed and sits down on it, facing you to make sure that she can reassure you when you wake up, so that you don't have to be afraid. She has been knocked out and woken up in strange places multiple times and knows how terrifying that can be, especially if it's one’s first time.

She's awoken by someone poking her arm and hurries to sit up.

“Fuck, I fell asleep”, she mumbles.

She looks up and meets your terrified eyes. Your entire body is trembling.

“W-Where-?” you stammer.

“Oh, right!” Jerry gasps. “I saved you from those two men that tried to kidnap you.”

“You …” your eyes widen, and you look almost … relieved? “It's you! I'm happy to see a familiar face, at least …”

“You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you … if that's what you think.”

You nod carefully.

“Where are my things …?” you ask carefully.

Jerry frowns. You hadn't had anything.

“I think you must have dropped them”, she says.

Which, if anything, is better for her.

“What time is it?” you ask. “I have to go back…”

Jerry freezes. It's still in the middle of the night, and she doesn't want to let you go!

“It's still night and you're shaken up, you should stay here … at least til the morning”, Jerry says. “Lat down again, get some sleep. Or are you hungry? Should I order some food for us?”

“I'm okay … thank you, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, o-of course.”

That fucking stuttering. She wants to hit herself.

In the morning, you meet Jerry out in the living room. Jerry has barely been able to sleep because of the extreme excitement, scared that if she falls asleep she'll wake up and realize that all of this is a dream.

“I realized that I never got to know your name”, you say and sit down in front of the couch. “I have talked to you multiple times but never known what your name is.”

“You can call me Jerry”, Jerry says.

“‘Can call me’? Isn't that your real name?”

“Well, I kind of changed it.” 

She clears her throat and picks up her phone, before quickly hiding it again. Your photocard. Too late. You've already reached for her phone with a smile.

“Is that me?” you ask excitedly. 

Jerry looks away in embarrassment.

“You weren't supposed to see that”, she mutters. 

“Oh, it's from this comeback! You have our most recent album?”

Jerry got herself seven copies to get your photocard. Damn your company only giving one photocard per album.

“Yeah”, she mumbles.

“Do you want me to sign it for you?” you ask.

“Shit, really?”

“Of course. You helped me.”

Jerry gets up from the couch. You follow her into the bedroom again. Jerry opens her wardrobe where your albums are hidden. She's afraid to be broken into and have someone realize her obsession with you. She wouldn't be able to handle the embarrassment.

“Look, you have them all”, you smile and bend down to pick up a paper fan with your face on it from your debut era. “Oh. You even have my merchandise! You must be a big fan.”

“I have been following you for a while”, Jerry admits as she picks up the right album. 

Both literally and figuratively.

“We are the same age”, she says. “I found you when I was still in high school.”

“That's years ago!” you gasp.

Jerry shrugs and hands you the album. While you sign it, she stares at you, admiring your bare face. You never show it on camera, always saying how ugly you are without makeup. That must be the most bullshit thing Jerry has ever heard.

“Here”, you smile, giving the album back.

“Thanks”, Jerry says and smiles slightly. She clears her throat, gathers herself. “We should order food.”

Jerry walks back to the living room. You follow. Both of you sit down on the couch and Jerry pulls out her phone. 

“Should we order some fried chicken?” Jerry asks. “Might not be the ideal breakfast food but who cares?”

“Oh, uhm … I'm actually on a diet”, you mumble embarrassedly. “My company wouldn't like me eating that …”

“Your company isn't here now.”

Jerry knows that you love fried chicken, and also know how much your company hates that you love it. 

The chicken delivery arrives twenty minutes later, no matter what you say. You stare at it with guilt in your eyes.

“I really shouldn't”, you mumble, forming fists to avoid taking one.

“Don't you want one?” Jerry asks, holding one crispy chicken sign in front of your face.

“Yes, I do, but-”

“Your company won't know. They have corrupted your brain. Take it, it won't kill you.”

You sigh and give in, taking the chicken wing. Jerry smirks and holds out a sauce packet.

“Poor little Y/N never gets to eat edible food”, she cooes. “They're starving you.”

“I know …”, you whisper and lower your eyes. “But I can't do anything about it. I will need to go back-”

“Wait a little more. I'm sure that there are a big commotion now, going now will only make things escalate. You will be bombarded by people.”

You sigh and nod.

The day goes by. You try to persuade Jerry to go back to your group, but she always responds with the same sentence: “Let's wait until tomorrow”. You've enjoyed Jerry’s company, to an extent. Something about her feels off, almost like the initial shock of having you here has been worn off and she has started to show her real colors. She doesn’t let you know what she’s working with or why she isn’t at home during the nights. Of course you’ve tried to sneak out during the nights, but she has locked the door from the outside and her apartment is way too high up for you to be able to climb out. You can see the entirety of Seoul from here. If only the people down on the street knew that you were trying to catch their attention. Jerry cut all internet connection. You have gotten to borrow her clothes, her bed and her shower products. You have eaten her food, drunk her drinks. 

Jerry comes home one night, finding you by the big windows in the living room, curled up against the glass, wearing her hoodie and sweatpants, crying. 

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” she hurries to ask and runs over. 

Baby girl. The word makes you even more terrified than you already are. 

Jerry sinks down in front of her, wearing those black clothes of hers. Her black brows are furrowed as her hands grab a hold of your shoulders. 

“What is it?” she demands to know. 

“Let me go home!” you scream, unable to contain your emotions for any longer. “Let me go!”

Jerry’s face drops. Her grip on your shoulders tighten. 

“No, not a fucking chance”, she says firmly. “I’m not letting you go.”

Your eyes widen at how dark her voice sounds, much darker than you have ever heard it before. 

“You can’t leave me”, Jerry continues in the same voice as her grip tightens even harder. 

“Stop”, you plead, voice breaking. “You’re scaring me.”

Jerry lets go off you and stand up, looking around for something. When she walks into the kitchen, you hurry up from the floor and throw yourself towards the door. You hear Jerry gasp and soon, her arms wrap around you. What feels like a dishcloth gets pressed against your face. The cloth have been drenched in something. Your legs wobble, losing control, and Jerry sink down on the floor with you in her arms. You try ripping her hands from you, but you can't seem to form fists anymore, can't grip anything.

“Don't try”, she whispers in your ear. “It's no use.”

“I can't breathe”, you manage to get out in a weak, slurred tone. 

“I'm not killing you.”

You sob one last time before everything goes black. Jerry wants for a few seconds before removing the cloth. She holds you in her arms, letting your unconscious head rest on her shoulder. Your tear stained face makes her heart sink. She's so selfish for keeping you. You don't belong to someone like her. You don't belong in the world Jerry lives in, but she can't give you back now that she has gotten to know you for real. Her life hasn't felt as complete as it has been these last few days. She has had a reason to come home, to not die on the job. She has a purpose now. And it's all thanks to you. For the first time in years, she has felt alive.

“I'm not letting you go”, she whispers firmly and wipes your tears with her sleeve. “There's no way.”

She picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom and tucking you in. Everyone is looking for you — you are all over the news. Everyone is worried about you … and here you are. It's not right … but she can't let you leave.

Jerry has handcuffs, and they have been intended for much different use, although for the same purpose. She handcuffs your right hand to the bed frame. The cuffs are surrounded by a pink fluff, and she finds it painfully ironic.

She pulls her chair to the side of the bed and sits down, watching you with her arms tightly crossed over her chest and burning tears in her eyes. The second they fall, she wipes them harshly. 

You're not asleep for long and when you awoken, you tug at the handcuff roughly.

“Stop!” Jerry demands and grabs your handcuffed wrist. “You will hurt yourself!”

Your terrified eyes shake as you look at her.

“Y/N, stop trying to get free”, Jerry orders. “You will hurt yourself. It will leave scars.”

Her perfect, untouched kpop idol. You have no marks on your body, not like her. Jerry's body is tainted — she has marks and scars from wounds, tattoos. You're a blank canvas and nothing can happen to you. Maybe, if she keeps you clean, she will be clenched of some of her own sins.

She picks up her phone and calls her boss. 

“You always call in the middle of the night”, her boss says before greeting her. “What is it this time?”

“I want to stage a murder”, she says surely. “I want everyone to think that Y/N has died. I can’t take this anymore. Everyone is looking for her and she knows it. It gives her … hope.”

“That isn’t hard. We grab a girl somewhat similar, color her hair and make sure that it will be hard to do DNA testing.”

“That is easier said than done.”

“If I manage to fix this for you, will you for the love of all fucking things, stop calling me in the middle of the night?”

“Maybe.”

She doesn't think that is is a good idea to leave you alone after that night and decide to bring you with her to her headquarters one day. You feel no courage to disagree. You sit in silence in the passenger seat of her sports car, fiddling with your fingers. She plays your song on the aux.

“So this is the little kpop girl you’re obsessed with?” a rough looking woman says as the two of you walk inside. 

The other people around try to get a look at you. You hide behind Jerry without noticing. Where has she taken you? Why does everyone look rough?

“Don’t touch her”, Jerry warns the woman. 

“Why are you bringing such a poor soul here, huh?” a man asks.

“Mind your own fuckign business, will you?” Jerry snarls and grabs your arm, pulling you past them. 

You’re placed on a couch where you hold your knees close to your chest, as if you don’t dare to move. A woman to your left has bought a pizza and is nonchalantly eating it. You glance at it, feeling hunger roar through you. Jerry seems to notice as she reaches forward to grab the pizza box. 

“Share with the rest of the class”, she says. “Y/N, eat.”

You hesitate. Jerry practically puts the pizza slice in your mouth. You want to ask why the other people in the house look dangerous, but their glazes towards you make you cold to your stomach. 

“Oh look, if it isn’t the news”, a man says as he comes into the room. 

“That’s my boss”, Jerry whispers to you with a half smile. 

The boss turns on the TV with the remote and what meets you make you freeze. The screen in front of you contain news filled with you being dead. Seeing your name in the sentence as ‘dead’ and watching people you have never seen before cry over you evokes an emotion you have never before felt. Your entire body has gone cold and never before have you felt such a nausea. You lean forward on the couch. 

“N-No …”, you whisper in pure panic and shake your head. “T-That's not me! I'm not dead!”

Your hand clasp over your hurting heart. It's going to rip in two, you can feel it ripping. All eyes are on you which, if possible, makes the situation worse.

“N-No … that's not—that's-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a chin on your shoulder. Turning enough to see Jerry's dark eyes fixated on the TV.

“The country will mourn you”, she says in your ear. “But they'll forget you. That's what happens with products. Someone else will take your place.”

“W-What- … who are you?” you ask with a trembling voice and look frantically between her face and the TV. “How could you…?”

“She hasn't told you what she works with, has she?” her boss asks.

“No …?” you stutter.

Jerry nods towards the TV. Your eyes widen.

“You kill … p-people?” 

A choir of mocking laughter echoes through the room. Everyone seem to take pleasure in your horror. You’re nothing more than the punchline in their sick joke.

“Every now and then”, Jerry replies as if she hasn’t heard them and strokes your pink hair. 

“Let me go”, you plead through new tears. “P-Please, I will do anything! I won't tell anyone what happened here. What do you want? Money? I-I can get you whatever you want!”

A new, even stronger, wave of laughter echoes. You see them bend in half, grabbing random furniture to not fall over. 

“I don't want money”, she scoffs. “I want you. That company isn't treating you right, your fans write sexual fanfictions of you on the internet and take pictures of you the second you bend down and you were almost kidnapped just a week ago! Is that what you want to go back to? Everyone sees you as a toy for their own benefits! Now you're free from it. I dont think that I have fucking saved you because I've pulled you into something worse, but at least now you’re not a product anymore.” 

Jerry runs her hand through her black hair and sighs. You feel naked under everyone’s gazes.You start to wonder if it really was you on the TV, because you can't seem to move, think or feel. You’re dead. In all senses, you’re now dead. Your blurry eyes wander around the dimly lit room, seeing too many mocking faces. You meet eyes with the boss and whimper at the realization that if Jerry is a killer, he must be something much worse.

“Well, welcome to your new life, Y/N”, he chuckles and gives Jerry a quick glance. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re in for.”

[rainylana]

“I don’t like dresses, Eddie.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: some sweet fluff at the trailer with eddie. reader is six months pregnant, so much fluff it may actually kill you, so sweet and precious, smut, vaginal fingering, decrophylia, mentions of max’s death and the battle with vecna, eddie’s self doubt of being a good provider, maybe some language, eddie and reader purposely call their baby by different genders it’s not an error lmao. enjoy!! requests always open just have a lot of works in progress i’m trying to get out there!! also! please let me know if the “read more” tag is working!!

My feet are huge, Eddie.” You said matter of factly, staring at your bare, swollen feet. “I can barely fit into shoes anymore.”

Eddie chuckled, stirring the instant ramen as he put it back in the microwave. “I’ll buy you a size up.”

“But they’re so…so big! I’m so big!” You exclaim, hugging your pregnant belly. “I’m so fat!”

“Y/n,” Eddie said, giving you a pointed look. “What I tell you about that? Stop being so negative about the way you look. It’s not good for you. You’re hot.”

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, fiddling with your fingers. “You have to admit it though.” You argued. “My feet are huge.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking out his socked foot dramatically. “Well, what about mine! They’re twice the size of yours!”

You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. “I guess so. You’ve got man feet.”

He scoffed. “I am a man, baby.” The thirty second timer of his soup went off, but he paid no mind, making his way over to you. He got on his knees in front of you, grabbing your foot and kissing your freshly painted, hot pink, big toe. “I love you and your big feet, baby.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at the sweet gesture.

“And,” He pointed at your belly. “I love this baby, too.” He kissed your six month pregnant stomach, patting it lightly. “Hi, baby Munson! Can you hear me? It’s daddy! Daddy’s here!”

You watched him caress your belly, tapping it, humming a new song he was working on, telling it about his work day. You could watch it all day long. You couldn’t wait to meet your baby. You and Eddie had decided to wait to see what the gender was, but it was getting to be harder than what you anticipated.

“God, I’m so excited.” Eddie sighed happily, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Him. Eddie was sure it was a boy.

You? You didn’t care which, as long as she was happy and healthy.

“I know.” You said quietly, your hand over his that laid above your navel. “Only three more months.”

He practically squealed, gathering himself off the ground to sit beside you. He grabbed you by the shoulders softly, turning you around so your back was to him. You sighed happily when he began massaging your shoulders, his thumbs working circles into your sore muscles.

“Oh, god.” You moaned, eyes closed in relief.

“Careful, darlin’.” He smirked, leaning into your ear. “Last time you said that you got pregnant.”

You hadn’t meant to get knocked up. That was the last thing you both had wanted, at the time, anyways. Now, it was the only thing you wanted more than anything in the entire universe. The two year mark of vecna was approaching, and after two years of the trauma you both endured, healed injuries and broken souls, the loss of your dear friend, Max, you both could finally say that you were traveling down hill now. You missed Max. You knew she’d be so happy to hear about the both of you becoming parents.

You remembered the day you had taken the pregnancy test. All 14 of them. You’d blown half of your paycheck on them, needing to be sure. You’d cried on the bathroom floor where he had found you that evening. You didn’t need to say anything, yet you did, watching as he stared at the positive pregnancy tests on the counter. “I’m pregnant.” You had spoken over a tearful whisper.

It was one of his most shameful moments, but Eddie had left you that night on your own, not able to process the idea of becoming a father. Wayne had smacked him upside the head when he showed up to his trailer, confessing the news. “Boy, get your ass outta my house and back you yer’ girl.” His uncle had said.

“Feel good, baby?” Eddie said, kissing your clothed shoulder as he rubbed up and down your spine, going back up to the base of your neck.

“Mmm.” You hummed in response. “Me and baby are happy.”

He smirked, eyes starting to droop with tiredness from his long work day. “I hope so.”

You opened your eyes then, noticing the self doubt in his voice that you came to recognize early on in your relationship. Next month will be four years. You craned your neck to try and see him. “I am, Eddie.” You lifted your hand up to grab his, resting them against your shoulder. “So will the baby.”

He squeezed your fingers. “I should get you a better house. We need a safer neighborhood for him.”

“We’ll protect her.” You didn’t let go of his hand, spinning yourself against the leather cushion to face him. “And I love this house. It’s our home.”

“I could buy you pretty dresses.” He frowned, pulling at the string of your pajama pants.

“I don’t like dresses, Eddie.” You laughed, gathering his face in your hands and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “God, you’re so cute. You’re so good to me.”

His cheeks flushed red under your touch, placing his hand on your fuzzy pj’s. “You’re good to me, baby. My two babies. I love you both so much.” The heat of the precious moment took him over and he found his lips on yours in seconds. Hot, plump and pink and all over each other’s, his thick palm coming up to hold your cheek.

He kissed you like you were the only woman left in the world, a hunger behind each swipe of his tongue that begged to be fed. You opened your mouth and accepted, teeth scrapping teeth in a make out session that was just plain dirty. He was always so paranoid about having sex at first, wondering if it would hurt the baby. You were too, until your doctor assured you there was no danger at risk.

“Let me feel you, baby.” He said hotly against your wet mouth, hand traveling down your cheek to your shoulder, down your arm and to your hip. “Let me make my girl feel good.”

You whined when his hand cupped your mound with a full palm, breaking apart the kiss in surprise. He rubbed you over your pajama’s, your body leaning into him, rocking against his hand to gain some more friction that just wasn’t doing the job.

You grabbed his hand, pulling down your pants to your knees, placing him back down to your bare pussy. You found his mouth again, his fingers running up your slick with a full swipe, collecting your wetness that made his hand sticky.

“You want me to touch you, honey?” He gently gathered you close, leaning you back to you could lay on the leather sofa. “Tell me what you want, pretty baby.”

The teasing made you hot and lightheaded, the throbbing between your legs created a burning sensation that ached to be cooled. “Please, Eddie,” You arched into his hand. “Touch me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

He practically groaned, the strain in his boxers rubbing against your thigh. He leaned down and placed a full, deep kiss on your lips, entering two fingers into your cunt. He plunged them deep inside, curling them in one go, before pulling out and repeating the movement.

The sudden sensation had you crying out, back arched and mouth ajar. Eddie hovered over your stomach, one hand inside you, the other holding himself up so he didn’t put pressure on your belly. He lifted his chin at you, eyes dark and sparking with a mischievous glare. “Yeah?”

You sobbed, writhing underneath as he finger fucked your pussy, a third ring finger now plunging in and out of you. The sound of your squelching arousal filled his ears, his pre cum darkening a patch of his jeans. It wasn’t the first time he’d cum in his pants just from fingering you.

“Oh, God,” Your legs were split apart, cunt on full display for him. He looked down, watching as his fingers disappeared in and out of you. Your face was best red, sweat fell down your cheeks and tears fell down your sticky skin.

“I’m so close, Eddie.” You shook underneath him.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, his thumb lazily swiping at your clit, not enough to make the coil in your belly snap. “You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? You want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes, yes!” You reeled your head back and pleaded to him, to god.

Eddie leaned down, spit on your puffy, red and swollen clit, and wrapped his plump lips around your sexual nerve, puckering and sucking like his life depending on it. It wasn’t long then, and you were squeezing his fingers and shaking, convulsing underneath him.

He fingered you through your orgasm, admiring your beauty as laid there and cried.

[gingernut1314]

Bit of Friendly Banter ch. 6

Summary: Everyone is hanging out at The Last Drop when unwelcomed guests show up baring bad news that only continues to spark tensions between the Undercity and Piltover.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevkia, young reader, young Benzo, young Felicia, pre-Sheriff Grayson, baby Viktor, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, unrequited love, fear of rejection/ruining friendship, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 4.1K

↞ to The Water's Cold Embrace Masterlist | Arcane Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠

“You should choose that one.” You spoke from where you leaned against Silco's back, reaching over his shoulder to tap at the cards in his hand. Silco hummed around his cigarette, smoke puffing from between his thin lips as he ran his fingertips over the worn cards. 

His fingers hovered over the one you had pointed at, seeming as if he was going to choose it, but they grabbed for the card next to it, placing it gently on the table’s surface. Sevika scowled at the card, nearly biting her blunt in half. 

“If you wanted to play,” Silco started, pulling his cigarette from his mouth to offer it to you. You took it, fingertips brushing as you did and sending your nerves standing on end. “You should have done so.” 

“And lose more coin? I’m okay.” You huffed, fitting the cigarette between your lips and pulling the thick, nicotine-riddled smoke into your lungs. Silco’s lips pulled in amusement, seafoam eyes watching as Nadia’s husband, Nikolai, slowly pulled a card from the selection in his hand. 

Nikolai was as equally tall, lanky, and pale as Nadia. His eyes, a near-black brown, were framed by deep bags that made him look as if he never slept. It was something Nadia confirmed, having told you many times of her husband's unhealthy habit of staying up well past his bedtime to finish working on a sculpture for some Piltie snob. 

You turned your gaze slightly to spot his wife over by the jukebox, their equally as tall, lanky, and pale son, Viktor, on her hip. Viktor looked like a mini copy of Nikolai, with his sharp cheekbones, nose, and mane of brown hair. Nadia’s genres had stood no chance against her husbands, except for one. His eyes, which were that same bright, burnt gold color.

The six-year-old watched the jukebox's arm come to life after the choosing of a new song, those eyes watching closely as if taking down notes on how it worked.

Probably was taking mental notes, the damn smart kid. 

You were still waiting on him to build you that mini-fridge to put in the small-ass apartment Sevika and you shared. 

“We could have played a non-betting game.” Silco reached for the cigarette still between your lips. You let him grab it, the fleeting feel of his skin against your lips sending your brain buzzing more than any drink or smoke or drug could ever hope to achieve. 

“Yeah right.” Silco’s eyes turned onto you then, watching your lips as you blew the remaining smoke from your lungs. You felt your skin burn at the attention. “Like Sevika would let us.” He chuckled. 

“Oh I’m sure we could convince her…might have to bet her though.” You chuckled at how true he was. Sevika was very betting originated. If there was a gamble to be had you were sure to find her in the middle of it.

“Hey,” Sevika hissed from her place directly across from you two. “How about you two stop eye fucking and take your turn, weasel.” Your skin burned in something other than Silco’s attention. 

“You’re quite the piss poor loser.” Silco smoothly said. He leaned back in his chair, a cocky look on his face.

“The game has ended?” Nikolai asked, his confused voice sporting the same accent as his wife, both having run away from their war-torn homeland years ago.

“No.” Sevika snapped. Nikolai’s lips formed a small ‘O’, eyes turning right back to the cards in his hands, which lay at different skewed angles. “I’m not losing this time, asshole.” She bit once more at Silco who gave her an unbelieving smirk. 

“Maybe if you wish on it hard enough.” Silco shrugged. Sevika went to open her mouth again but was cut off by a low groan from the other player at the table.

“I only agreed to take Benzo's spot because you two promised me it would be a friendly game.” Felicia, dark blue-haired and stunningly beautiful, said. You watched her place her cards face down on the table, replacing them with her half-drank cocktail, which she playfully smirked behind. 

You had disliked Felicia as soon as you laid eyes on her three years ago. 

It was a dislike you knew was irrational. One that truly had no backing to it but one you held regardless. 

And it didn’t help that everyone else in your group adored her. 

She was fun and beautiful. She knew how to talk to people in a way that left them hanging off her every word. She worked in the mines with Vander, Silco, and Benzo, so she understood the struggle of that life and had instantly been as taken with the idea of Zaun as you all had been. 

And, worst of all, she was a flirt. 

A huge flirt. 

“She’d flirt with the damn wind if it rustled a bit of paper in her direction.” Sevika had chuckled to you once. 

Yeah, Felicia would definitely flirt with Janna if the Winds showed her face around her and it was just another thing that pissed you off. 

Felicia flirted with Sevika. With Benzo, Vander, and even Nadia and Nikolai, the couple growing all flustered and blushy each time. 

She flirted with Silco too. 

And Silco flirted back. 

It was expected. Silco was just as much a flirt as Felicia. Maybe she liked the game just as much as Silco. Maybe that’s why they got along so well.

Whatever it was you hated it. 

“It’s just a bit of friendly banter.” Silco matched her playful smirk. Felicia pulled forward, getting close to Silco but not close enough to peek at his cards. You watched her hold her free hand out and wiggle her fingers in his direction. Silco handed her the cigarette without any hesitation. 

You watched their fingers brush. 

Watched their fingers linger.

“You promise?” She asked, bringing the cigarette to her lips. 

“Pinky promise.” She laughed at Silco, smoke puffing from her lungs. 

“Oh yeah?” Silco reached his hand back out, raising his pinky for her to take. You saw her muscles move as she started to reach back for Silco and that’s when you shoved off Silco’s back. Silco grunted as his ribs hit the edge of the table a little harder than you had intended. 

“The hel--What was that for?” Silco gruffed at you. Though you had been “cured” of your struggle to understand other’s emotions, you still struggled with understanding and controlling your own. 

Mainly, you struggled to not show every little thing you felt on your face. 

And right now you were pissed.

“What’s the matter with you?” Silco watched you narrowly, definitely taking notice of your change in mood.

“Nothing.” You practically grit out. “Getting a drink.” Sevika was chuckling at your outburst. Chuckles that grew into a bellow when you snatched Silco’s box of cigarettes, pulled a fresh one out, and stormed off.

You weaved around tables full of laughing patrons of The Last Drop, making it to the bar where a few people lent, waiting for their drink. 

Benzo was behind the bar tonight, helping Vander mix drinks up, which he was doing for a trio of men you now stood beside. One of which had decided to lean in closer to you. 

“Can I buy ya--” 

“No.” You hardly let him finish his sentence, not in the mood to deal with it.

“Oh come on. We can take a shot--” You snapped to bore your smoldering gaze into him. 

“I’ll give you to the count of three before I break your nose.” The man narrowed his gaze down on you, not getting the hint that you really would. 

Benzo handed the men their drinks, ushering them away before you could release your brewing anger upon him. 

“Uh oh. Somethin’ awoke the slumberin’ sea beast.” Benzo spoke, a smirk on his lips.

“Just get me a drink, Benzo.” You huffed, turning your pissed-off gaze onto him. 

“Didn’t we jus’ see the beast a week ago?” He asked, still finding your mood all too amusing. “Silco again?” You reached behind the bar to snag the box of matches you knew Vander kept there.

They did see the “beast” as Benzo called your anger. Last week when Silco had been flirting with a girl in this very bar. Flirting with some random person when it had meant to be a night you two hung out together. 

You’d just let your anger about that go three days ago. 

“Not everything is about Silco, asshole.” You bit, shoving the cigarette between your lips and flicking the match against the ridged side of the box, letting the fire bring the butt of the cigarette to a smolder. You inhaled deeply, willing the heavy smoke to cloud your mind and help you forget about the person Benzo knew you were pissed at. 

“Want’d he do this time?” Benzo pushed. 

“I’m gonna slap that damn smirk off your face if don’t shut the hell up.” You hissed loud enough it caught Vander’s attention. Benzo had just opened his mouth to continue when he came over, clapping Benzo on the shoulder. 

“How ‘bout you go take care of those two down there for me, yeah?” He instructed with a too-kind smile.

“Careful, Vander. This one's got teeth tonight.” He laughed before going to do as Vander asked. Vander watched him go before turning to look at you, a knowing gleam in his eyes. 

“Ya got teeth tonight?” You took another deep drag, fixing Vander with your burning gaze. 

“Razor sharp.” You spoke on an exhale of smoke. 

“Ah, I see.” He mused, beginning to scoop ice into a shaker. You two stood in silence for a long moment as you watched Vander work. You could tell he was making something sweet but held a hidden bite within it. A perfect drink, in your opinion. 

The muscles in Vander’s arms flexed the slightest bit as he shook the liquids together before straining it into a cup. He placed a little decorative flower on top before presenting it to you. You gratefully took the glass from him, exhaling yet another drag of smoke before taking a sip. 

Just how you liked it. Sweet but strong. 

“So what’s got you baring your fangs tonight, sweetheart?” He asked, lending his hands on the bar before him. You swallowed sharply. 

“Nothing. I just needed a drink.” Vander gave a known nod, thumb tapping lightly against the wooden bartop. His eyes turned from you to look towards the table full of his friends who had resumed their game. 

“Those two are just having a laugh.” You knew you were being foolish. Being unfairly angry at him, but you truly did not need to be reminded.

“I know.” You bit. Vander gave another small nod. 

“Why haven’t you talked with him yet?” You snapped your eyes up at Vander. He suggested you talk to Silco many times before about how you feel. Suggested it last week too. And every time you gave him a simple, bullshitted answer as to why you wouldn’t.

“Busy.” Vander leveled you with a look that almost made you squirm. 

“Life’s busy. How it goes. Doesn’t mean you can keep using it as an excuse.” 

“I don’t want to talk to him.” 

“Well, then, don’t” He pushed off the bar top, taking his matches with him. “Can I let you in on a little bit of a secret though?” You watched him carefully as he grabbed for his metal pipe. “Felicia’s set her sights on a new guy we work with. Connol. She’s never quite enjoyed someone as much as I’ve seen her enjoy that one. Silco’s never been that to her in the slightest.”  

“Doesn’t mean she hasn’t been that for him.” You murmured before you could stop yourself. Vander gave you a small smile, lighting his pipe and taking a pull from it. 

“Like I said, sweetheart. It’s just for a laugh.” You opened your mouth to say something more, but the doors to The Last Drop Swung open and all noise ceased. 

You spun around, finding a large group of enforcers marching in, armor gleaming and masks looking devilish in the dim light. 

People around the bar stood, readying for a fight if needed. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sevika grab hold of Nikolai, keeping him from rushing across the bar towards Nadia, who holding onto Viktor tightly. They both watched each other, fear and panic clear in their eyes for the other. 

Vander had just begun rounding the bar when someone pressed their side against your own. You knew instantly who it was, not needing to look up to find Silco standing there. 

“How can I help you?” Vander asked, breaking the silence that had washed over his bar. The leading enforcer grabbed for their mask, pulling it off to reveal Sergent Grayson, who steadied Vander with a near-pitying gaze.

“Forgive me for the intrusion.” She began, voice smooth yet carried a rasp to it. “Do you own this establishment?” Vander gave her a nod, bringing his pipe to his lips. Grayson held her hand out, another, still masked, enforcer rushed forward to place a roll of paper in her gloved hand. “The council has made a few changes you should be aware of.” A murmur rose among the crowd as she passed the paper to Vander. 

He took it, fire sparking in his eyes. A deep fire he very rarely let show as such. 

Vander was the peacekeeper. The one who kept relationships within your group of friends stable. The one you would turn to if you needed advice or someone who would listen. The one who stopped the group and even others outside of it from blindly attacking when there was other ways to solve a problem. 

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t just as angry as you all were. Just as bloodthirsty for the rights you all deserved. 

He was the true slumbering beast. 

A wolf kept chained back until nothing and no one could stop it from bursting to life. 

You’d only ever seen the wolf twice. Once when they announced the mines reopening, and the second time when his father had been killed by an enforcer. 

And you saw that wolf again, pacing restlessly back and further looking for the right moment to strike.

“They’re still hungry for more, huh?” Vander mused, breaking the seal on the paper and unrolling it. 

“I have just come as a messenger. Please read it over. The changes will be enacted within the week.” She gave him one last, pitying smile before pulling her mask back into her face. 

As the enforcers left, people hissed and cursed them. Spit on them. 

Grayson seemed to feel the tension growing between her enforcers and the people within the bar and hung back, watching her officers and snapping at them if they got too close to an Undercitian as they left. 

As soon as the last of her enforcers left, she followed after, letting the door swing shut behind her and washing the bar in deathly silence once more. 

Dread. 

Hopelessness. 

Anger. 

Those were the things that hung heavy in the air as everyone watched Vander read over the paper, the edges getting crushed between his fingers the longer he did. 

Nikolai was the first to move, all but sprinting over to Nadia who held fearful tears in her eyes and was edger to be wrapped up in her husband's arms. 

Silco was the second to move, rushing to his brother’s side to peer at the paper he’d been given. His bared teeth were telling enough of what bullshit was written there. 

The next to move was Felicia, who made her way over to the jukebox. She pressed a few buttons before it whirled to life, an upbeat song beginning to play which she let carry her back through the crowd of patrons. 

“You heard her. We don’t need to worry about it just this moment.” She smiled brightly their way, trying to further distract them. 

“Fuck that. How dare they come in here and--” It was the guy who had tried to hit on you earlier, but Felicia grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him sharply away from his chair. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Come on. Vander will let us know what's up later.” She began to sway with the music again, pulling the guy closer and closer. “I wanna dance. And I wanna dance with you, handsome.” She purred up at him. The guy opened and closed his mouth like a fish, glancing back to his friends who had seemed to forget about the events that had just happened and were beginning to grin like goofy kids. 

And just like that, the room filled with voices and the clicking of glasses once more as if snapped from a daze. 

Vander too, seemed to be snapped back from the unfair reality thrust into his hands. A reality he shoved into his back pocket to be forgotten for now. 

And once more you found you couldn’t stand Felicia. 

You were grateful for her, yes. Happy she had been able to lift everyone's spirits but you wished you could do that. Wished you had the same playful way with people she so effortlessly showcased and used to her advantage. 

When she found you watching, she flashed you a charming smile and a playful wink. A smile that could never possibly hope to fully hide the same angry look in her eyes. The same anger you and everyone else felt every day--felt even more now. You gave her a steady nod back before she twirled away. 

Seaform eyes were the next to find your gaze. Eyes that rushed towards you in seconds. 

Silco grabbed hold of your hand and led you through The Last Drop. Past Nadia and her family, who Vander had found and was now speaking lively to Viktor, who shyly peeked up at him. Past Benzo who was heading back behind the bar and a few people who followed, edger for a drink. 

He dragged you up step after step into the upper levels of the place he called home. You passed a door that led to Vander’s office, a place you once made home within when Silco found out you had been living in a cave, though now that you had moved out, Vander had moved in. You passed by Silco and Benzo’s shared room and past the broom closest before making it to the ladder at the end of the hall. 

Silco let go of your hand only so he could climb, throwing the hatch open and disappearing up onto the roof. You quickly followed, finding him standing there waiting for you. As soon as you were securely up, he shut the hatch and rushed towards the roof edge to look over the streets below. 

You came up to his side, brushing your shoulder against his as you quickly spotted the horde of enforcers marching through the night.

“They are closing the distillery,” He spoke after watching the enforcers enter a diner that was open 24/7. One of you and Silco’s favorite spots to hit up after a long night of drinking. You pressed closer to him as your dread grew. “And the brew house. Deemed them “not up to code”.” 

“Fuck.” You hissed, “Mean’s we’re only gonna be able to get our drink from Piltover.” Silco nodded, eyes finding yours once more. 

“And you know how they love their taxes.” He said in utter disgust. “We can’t take this lying down. It may just be alcohol but what is stopping them from deeming our docks “not up to code”? Our water sources? We won’t survive it.” 

You thought of Felicia then. Of how she had so quickly swooped in and calmed everyone's rage for the night. Because what could they do then? Nothing. 

They needed a plan. Something solid that might possibly stand a chance against Piltover.

“We need to take action and we need to do it--” You cut Silco off with a simple grab of his hands and a soft smile. 

“Let's have a smoke, okay?” He started saying your name but you pressed a finger to your lips, shushing him. “I agree…but we’ll discuss it all tomorrow. We won’t take it lying down. We’ll fight,” Silco’s lips thinned as he listened to you, hands holding yours tighter. “But it's a nice night out. I want to smoke with you.” He watched you for a long moment, looking like he might try to keep talking of action but he gave you a nod. 

“Please.” He breathed. You guided him to sit down on the ledge, one leg dangling off either side. You watched him pull his box of cigarettes and lighter out from his pocket, a cigarette extended towards you as he placed one between his lips. 

His gaze never once left yours as he lit both cigarettes, the light dancing within his eyes in a physical showing of his burning desire for freedom. A desire you felt too--ached more for when you were around him.

You two sat in easy silence for a while, watching each other and only looking away when the enforcers came marching back out of the 24/7 diner. You watched them disappear into the night before Silco’s foot tapping your own caught your attention once more. 

“Why were you so pissed early?” He asked on an exhale of smoke. You did the opposite, filling your lungs with the heavy, warm smoke so you could prolong an answer. 

“Wasn’t.” Silco gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe you one bit. You shrugged. “Really.” 

“Really?” He repeated. You nodded on a popping yep. “Well, I really find that hard to believe. I could see your blood boiling.” 

“My blood was very much at a normal boil.” You pulled in more fogging smoke. 

“I think that’s something you should have checked out. Your boiling blood.” You kicked his foot only for him to quickly kick it back. “Just tell me. Was it something I did?” 

“Just talk to him. Tell him what you're feeling.” Vander’s past words rang through your mind. 

Tell him your feelings. 

It couldn’t be that hard. You certainly weren’t busy right now. It would be a perfect time to do it. 

But the longer you looked over his face, the longer you thought about how he never looked at you how he looked at other girls, had you pushing those thoughts way down. 

“Sevkia pissed me off.” You lied. Well, it was partially true. You hated how she always found ways to try to embarrass and upset you when she herself was pissed off during a game.

So you went that route. 

Silco watched you for a moment, all-seeing eyes all but digging into the depth of your soul to figure out if that was the true reason. 

You willed yourself to believe it. To make him believe you believed it. 

“About what she said about us?” You nodded, taking another drag. 

“It was stupid. She says stupid shit all the time, need to not get so worked up over it.” Silco took another drag himself, something heaving growing in his eyes. A heaviness you couldn’t quite figure out. 

“You’re right. She’s awfully stupid.” He joked. You kicked his foot again and he kicked you right back. “Why do I feel like that’s not really why you were upset? You shoved me remember? Not Sevkia.” You gave an overly loud groan. 

“What is this? If I wanted to get interrogated, I’d go find those bucket heads.” Silco shook his head at your dramatics. 

“I’m not interrogating you.” He huffed, giving your foot another swift kick which you, just as swiftly, dealt back. “You just…used to talk more freely with me. Told me exactly why and how I had pissed you off.” His voice came out a bit softer then. A softness that pulled at your heart in a way you hadn’t expected it to. 

You missed that too…but you couldn’t go around telling him you were--were jealous of the people he flirted with. Whether that be play or real flirting. It would ruin everything between you two. 

You two were friends. 

Strictly.

And you had to keep it that way. Because not only would it throw a wrench in your friendship, but you would only become another conquest in his game. 

You didn’t want to just be another girl as stupid and cliche as you felt thinking it. You wanted him to want you fully, just as you wanted him. 

“Didn’t give a shit about my shitty social skills back then. No one was safe.” Silco chuckled at this, a look in his eyes like he was remembering back to the beginning days of your friendship. 

“You still have pretty shitty social skills.” You gave a gasp, kicking his foot a little harder at that. He kicked you just as hard back.

Previous | Next

[queers-gambit]

All Mine

title citation: song by Brent Faiyaz

prompt: ( requested ) you and Tangerine break up, and the man you date after is a serious downgrade. on a night out, Tangerine decides your story isn't yet finished.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 7k+

note: did i use this gif already? yes. but it fits the theme of this story.

warnings: same drill - Tan's government name is Aaron, Lem's is Brian. cheater!Reader (not on but with Tan, you'll see), some angst, break-ups, but overall hurt and comfort, happy ending, small NSFW, random "State Farm" quote (not sponsored), smoking indoors, brief domestic aggression, brief violence (it's Tan), term "going postal" used, not edited. "not all men" only applies to Tan i don't make the rules.

We begin today by discussing the concept of soulmates.

World renowned Ancient Greek philosopher, Plato (born Aristocles, not to be mistaken for Aristotle), once theorized that humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, and two faces. The Greek God, Zeus, motivated either by fear of man's potential power or the need to reprimand their arrogant pride, decided to punish humans by severing them into two perfect halves - dooming them to roam the Earth in search of their whole self.

According to Ancient Chinese mythology, The Red String of Fate (tied by the Lunar matchmaking God, Yue Lao) says lovers who are destined to be are tied together through lifetimes by a red string - the color that symbolizes happiness - regardless of time, place, or circumstance. This string might stretch or tangle (like all relationships), but will never break.

Some Western cultures believe in the idea of simple "soulmates", two people destined to meet and love one another unconditionally. They thought their souls are someway, somehow intertwined - be it in the stars, by the cosmos, or even some intrusive, baby-presenting, diaper-wearing, winged fucker named Cupid. "Soulmates" operate as two halves of one whole, yet still remain two separate individual persons. The idea originates from Plato's theory, but essentially affirms: there's a perfect someone for everyone.

Other cultures might say their religious deity or just faith in said religion is peoples one, true love. Some argue a "soulmate" isn't a romantic partner at all, but instead, a person's twin. You know, same womb, same "soul", that kinda reasoning.

Akin to the Greeks, theosophy claims God created androgynous souls, and these souls were individually split into the two genders they once were. Each half seeks the other, and when their karmic debt is paid (being a reason they were split in the first place), the two halves will return to their whole, true self.

and before anyone says anything about gender, remember, these theologies originate from a time that a modern day Taco Bell dollar menu burrito would literally make the theologists implode!

Some New Age philosophy says a soulmate is a totally separate entity (meaning, not split or derived from us), and who spends lifetimes as your friend, lover, co-worker, partner. Soulmates are the greatest union of the heart, no matter the shape or form it presents as; being two connected souls. Hence platonic soulmates, as well.

Other common literary soulmate idioms:

cut from the same cloth -> meaning being so in-tune and similar in characteristics, demeanor, and / or behavior, you "must've" come from the same place.

apple of my eye -> while, yes, it means being extremely important to a person, it also could mean being the "core" of your lover's heart and / or soul; similar to how an apple core keeps the fruit's integrity.

better / other half -> it's 2 am, this is pretty self explanatory.

ride or die -> again, self explanatory - but indicates that a soulmate will live life loyally with you in good and bad times.

match made in heaven -> being absolutely SO perfect for each other, your love was crafted by divine intervention in the eternal kingdom of heaven - where a thing or two about "soulmates" might be known.

my heart and soul -> your love being so strong, so right, it takes over logic and emotion; and intoxicates your very soul - your entire being.

No matter what approach you take, what you do or don't believed, there was no denying: Aaron was your soulmate.

That arrogant, smug, sarcastic, devilishly handsome, mysterious, devious, sneaky, alluring, intelligent, bitchy, suave, charming, intuitive, opinionated jackass who used the operative codename Tangerine.

But to you, he was Tan. Tangie. Aaron. Ace. The love of your life.

You couldn't avoid it. There was no wishing him away, no genie to appear for your third wish. There was no point in trying to avoid or deny your feelings anymore, they were an 18-wheeler and there was no crosswalk in sight; and that's where everything fell apart - realizing you were ready and willing for this emotion to come barreling into you. When things got serious, when you were ready for distinct, specific commitment, Aaron suddenly reared back and put so much distance between you, it was as if he catapulted into a different timezone.

You had been at a mutual friend's birthday party, and after several rounds of alcohol, where everyone was good and buzzed and happy in their own little worlds, incidentally toppled into a public showdown.

"What's the rush?" Aaron asked you, tears inconceivably dribbling down your cheeks one-by-one while stood in a packed-out bar. "Huh? What's your rush to get married? Things have been so good, doll - so fucking good - and you want to ruin that? This isn't - "

You barked, "'Ruin that'? Ruin, what, exactly!? Aaron, we've been together five years - five fucking years, half a bloody decade - how could you possibly say you don't know if you want to marry me or not yet!?"

"It's not you, love - "

"It's not me, it's marriage that scares you!?" You snarled, so used to hearing it, you can quote him.

"Yes!"

"It's the same difference! You love me, but marriage is so scary, it's not worth it, even with me! No matter how much you say you love me, right? You just can't - no, no! - you won't love me enough to marry me! Because you're capable of it, you're capable of loving me enough, but you're much more comfortable being an emotionless jackass - "

"No, no, don't go putting words in my mouth," he groaned, head tilting back, shaking his curls as he rightened to look at you. "Baby, just listen to me, please, neither of us are in a state to have this conversation - "

"We never are, according to you! It's never the right time, the right energy, right setting! What's the issue, Aaron? Huh?" You felt your anger crack and chip away like a hard boiled egg, revealing the soft emotion inside. "What's the real problem being with me? With marrying me?"

"We're just - we're so young!"

"Try again."

"You're just not thinking about - "

"Oh, no, but I am!" You snapped, setting your nearly empty glass to the bartop and shocking yourself (and the eavesdropping bartender) that it didn't shatter. "I am thinking, Aaron, I'm finally thinking about myself - for once - and I know what I want! And you know what? I'm not afraid anymore to ask for what I know I deserve!"

Aaron scoffed, shaking his head as he did when faced with confrontation. "Neither of us are drunk or sober enough to get though this conversation, so... Let's just..." He trailed, brows furrowing when you shook your head with a hateful scoff, yanked from his grip, and stormed away. But he quickly snatched your upper arm, halting your escape, demanding, "Wait, wait, wait, hang on, love. What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"Away from you - "

"They haven't even cut the cake, baby, c'mon, the night is still early - "

"Excuse me while I don't want to stand around here with my ex-boyfriend in front of our friends pretending to be happy."

"What're you - ex-boyfriend?" He stuttered in genuine hurt and confusion.

In that moment, like divine intervention to semi-prove your point, Brian, Aaron's brother, who used the codename Lemon, dropped in. Tangerine let go of you to not make it look like he was holding you in place. "S-Sorry, I know this looks tense, but, uh, bruva," Brian showed Tangerine his phone, "we've gotta go, man..."

"We're in the middle of something, Lem."

"I get that, but... Duty calls, mate."

Tangerine sighed, hand through his hair, turning to you in what you used to think was real empathy. "I-I'm so sorry, love, I have to go - but we'll finish this conversation when I get home, okay? Yeah?

You sniffled and nodded sadly, "See? You see? You love your job more than me, that literally in the middle of a fight about marriage, you're gonna go. Did you see how easy that was for you? Yet you can't love me enough? In a much less high-stakes situation?" With another nod, but this time out of realized confirmation, you breathed, "I'm done, Tangerine." He knew you were serious when you reverted back to his codename; stripping the personal warmth from your tone. "Okay? I'm done. I can't do this anymore, it's absolutely unfair. You've made it clear, you don't want to marry me, so, that's fine, but I'm not in the business of wasting anymore time than I already have. Now," you took a breath, "we can talk later about getting your shit outta my place, probably after your mission, but until then, just please, leave me the fuck alone."

You swore that was going to be the end. It was supposed to be. There was never supposed to be a relapse. Never an epilogue. The Tangerine / Aaron chapter was closed, the entire book was supposed to be closed!

But when you're single for the first time in five years, you kinda forget how to casually date.

There's dating apps, which, as some might know, is just a nightmare experience. There's sometimes local singles events - but they're not always the vibe you usually want to spend your energy on. Matchmakers were (apparently) thousands of wasted dollar. Dating coworkers is typically ALWAYS weird unless you're Jim and Pam, or Meredith and Derek, or whatever other couples TV romanticized. Reality dating shows? That air out all your business? PASS. Taking your mother's recommendations? PASS. Especially if she has her little "church friends" trying to set you up, too? HARD PASS. Sometimes, you just start praying for a hunky Italian Mobster to abduct you - it honestly sounds a little easier (read: this is sarcasm)! Your friends try to set you up, but it usually doesn't click, or it's a strange experience that makes you reject further offers. You could always hope a guy spills your coffee and offers to buy you a new one, which turns into you talk the day away - but life isn't a Glen Powell movie.

Oh, and don't even get me started on ghosting - fuck you if you ghost people, you immature coward.

So, sometimes, you get real lonely, start to feel a little self pity, like you made a mistake breaking up... And maybe you seek company in alcohol... And that alcohol can sometimes help you reminisce... Which exasperates the loneliness... And eventually, maybe that little devil on your should convinces your to text your ex... Which in turn, starts an entire precedent about it being "okay" to go back to him in times of need and desire, of desperation, sometimes of boredom, or even times of comfort.

Aaron had left you alone after the break up, he knew to give you space; so, when you start casually fucking about a year after ending things, it was you pulling all the strings. Women in power, ammirite? Though, Aaron didn't mind your use of him, he always thought the break-up was a fluke of some kind, something fleeting, temporary - hence why he left you alone to sort your feelings. Aaron knew he wasn't perfect, but neither were you; resulting in plenty of "negative" aspects of your relationship, but there were far more positives - more ups than downs - assuring you both know, this was real. This was love. This was true love. It was eternal and raw and passionate... But you couldn't wait forever for him to face his fears.

Until... One night, after hours in his sheets, from the side of his bed, you declared, "This was the last time, Aaron."

He watched you hook your bra, cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, yeah?" He mused, having heard it before. "All right, sweetheart. Same time next week, yeah?" Aaron laughed at his own joke, casually flicking ash into the bedside tray.

"No. I'm being serious, Ace," you sighed almost sadly. You stood to yank your panties and leggings up in one move; shifting your hips, wiggling a bit to adjust the feeling of tightly wadded cloth cutting through raw coochie. "Ryan and I, uh... We're, uh, you know," you cleared your throat, trying to situate your tee shirt without looking at him, "we're going exclusive."

"Uh-huh, is that so?"

"Yep."

"When was this decision made?"

"Oh, uh," you blanched, "the idea was proposed a couple days ago, but we're making it official tonight - "

"I've seen you 8 fucking times this week and it's only Tuesday - "

"I know - "

"What the fuck, Y/N!?"

You glared, "What do you want me to say, Aaron!?"

"That you're not being serious! We're supposed to be together, not whatever - "

"You knew that we were just fucking to blow off steam and fill certain voids, we weren't back together! You always knew one day, this was bound to happen."

"Why? Huh? Why fuck me, but date him?"

"Because you're allergic to committeemen and Ryan isn't!"

"So, why do you keep comin' around? Why keep comin' back t'me, huh? If he's willing to commit, why're you the one fucking around on him? With me?" But the look on your face said it all, making Aaron laugh spitefully, "Ohhh, no, oh, sweetheart. Oh, don't fucking tell me, doll, he's not fucking you right?"

"For fuck's sake, would you please get off your high horse a single moment just to fuck off - "

"Why else would you keep coming back?" He demanded, smug as could be. "Don't wanna date me, but you'll fuck me? Oh, poor Ryan must really be lacking - "

"I told you, this is the last time."

"Yeah, uh-huh, sure," he laughed, leaning back, hands behind his head. "They all always say that before they come crawling back in my bed."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" You snarled, feeling more hurt than you should've. And Tangerine could read it all over your face. "I told you every man I slept with - granted it's only been two this past year, but still - are-are-are you saying there's been others? That you haven't told me about? Have you been fucking other people while fucking me?"

"Hang on, love, listen, I didn't mean - "

"I think I need to go, this was a mistake - all of this - coming back here, fucking you. I need to go," you huffed, stepping into your Crocs (for a quick escape), and rushing to grab your jacket, purse, and keys. The entire time, Tangerine was trying to amend what he said, but it felt like the (final?) nail in the coffin you had been waiting on; assurance that you needed to be without Aaron. See, upon your casual fuck, you agreed to date and sleep with others if you wanted - you weren't exclusive - but for reasons deemed useless now, you were supposed to tell one another about other partners. And he couldn't even do that?

So, you left his flat, and when he followed you out, he saw you disappear at Olympic sped down the staircase - key to his place left on the hallway floor.

"Well, well," his elderly cougar neighbor leaned in her doorway, watching you go with crossed arms and a smirk, "looks like li'l miss is gone finally, huh? This mean you're available for dinner tonight?"

Tangerine snatched the key from the ground, "Not tonight, Mrs. Roberts."

"It's 'Ms' now," she informed, but Tan didn't even hear; just slipped inside his flat, shut the door, locked it, and stood in the foyer, palm flat, looking at the key as if it were a foreign object, for 37 minutes.

Knowing how upset you were, Tangerine didn't try to contact you. Yet one week after your fight, when he knew your standing "Soul Cycle" class took place and you'd came by after, he set up his flat. He got you dozens of apologetic roses all mixed with bright sunflowers and dotted with baby's breath - bouquets he put together himself. Candles lined the place, all lit within fire code restrictions. He played light, modern instrumental music because he knew it had been on your Spotify playlist - not that he was checking it or anything. He cooked your favorite meal by hand. He cleaned himself up, styled his hair, wore the cologne you got him for your first Christmas together (that he's never changed), and wore the baby blue button-up he knew drove you crazy. To top it all off, he got a very dainty golden bracelet - one that was nice enough to convey the amount he spent (as if money = sincerity of apology) but still simple enough that Ryan wouldn't notice if it became part of your normal jewelry box. In fact, nobody would - except you and Tangerine, the way he likes things. The bracelet is even engraved with a subtle 'A' because no matter who you date, he always knew you'd be his and he'd be yours - but wouldn't point this out to you... Yet.

Your class ends at 6:30, you were never later than 7:05. He was ready and waiting at the door, going over his apology by 6:15. He changed into a new, identical shirt at 6:33 after sweating through the first; drying himself, spraying extra antiperspirant over his torso. He changed the tissue wrapping of his offering bouquet so it wasn't wet from his sweaty palms when he gave it to you at 6:41. At 6:46, he began pacing. Aaron began impulsively checking his phone at 6:53. He didn't have your location anymore (a con to the break-up he strongly protested out of fear for your safety) so he couldn't check if you were lost, in trouble, in traffic, at that smoothie place you loved. 7:15 rolled around, no key in the lock. At 7:22, he called Brian in a panic.

"What's wrong? She's just late, Aaron, take a breath, mate."

"She's never late."

7:30 turned to 8... Then to 9... And finally, at 10, Tangerine realized you were serious - that was the last time together.

The hurt suddenly set in, realizing you're not coming back. Selfishly, he knew, he could fill a void no man - even one as objectively good as Ryan - could. He knew you must've felt lonely; craving adventure and spontaneity, something exciting that he knew you lacked with Ryan - or any man.

For days, he agonized - trying to get in your head.

Without him, were you lonely? His job makes him travel, but did Ryan ever take you anywhere? Did he surprise you? Open your doors? Send you flowers? Keep you waiting? Did Ryan communicate with you in the way Tangerine knew you preferred? Was he kind? ...Were you alone?

He knew for a fact, when together, no matter what, he never made you feel unloved, under appreciated, devalued, taken for granted, but perhaps that changed when he began his allergic reaction to the prospect of marriage.

Two years. Two years since breaking up. One year since you ended your Friends with Benefits situationship. One year, you've been with Ryan, and by God, did it drive Aaron insane. For months, Brian felt a responsibility for his part in pulling Tan away that night instead of leaving him to work things out with you, but his brother assured it was a long time coming... Though, Tan had to admit, he never thought it'd go this long.

Like a good neighbor, Jake from State Farm is there! But like a good brother, Brian is there to take Aaron out for a night of necessary debauchery. This was an otherwise mundane activity, something to blow off steam and remove oneself from reality - yet fate works in really funny ways.

The club Lemon chose was packed to the brim; stuffed with bumping, sweaty bodies; strung out to blaring music in various zombified states induced by drugs, alcohol, or maybe both. Luckily, their group had an elevated position in the club's VIP seating, keeping away from the dance floor; giving limited advantage in height when surveying the area.

That's how Tangerine saw you after a year.

Judging from the glittery sash and cheap tiara on your friend's head, he guessed you were there for a birthday party; feeling his stomach knot itself into a noose when he noted Ryan hovering around your flank. He wore khakis, loafers, a creased, pale yellow button-up he guessed was thrifted; holding his drink in one hand, the other shoved in his pocket, bobbing and nodding awkwardly to the thumping music.

When you moved, so he Ryan. When you threw back a shot, Ryan looked away with a long, heavy sigh and curled lip. When you tried to dance, Tangerine saw Ryan snatch your upper arm to reprimand directly in your ear; a couple of your friends even shooting him looks of distain.

A hand clapped heavily on his shoulder, Lemon appearing at Tan's side. "Only you would come t'a club, mate, crawlin' with babes, yeah?" He gestured to the scantily dressed women dancing provocatively around them with his hand holding a drink, "And stand here, like-like, you're Lurch or some shit!"

"'Lurch'?" Tangerine repeated, eyes never straying from where you were in an obvious disagreement with Ryan.

"Like - you know - from the Addam's Family? Tall fucker? Just stands 'round, leering?" Lemon listed intentionally, seeing his brother unmoving. "Jesus, fuck, mate, just go talk to her already! Swear, you stand here any longer, watchin' people, they'll toss us out 'cause of the complaints. Shape up, mate, time t'shit or get off the pot. Move it."

Tangerine finally adjusted his stance, sniffling, shaking his head, "Nah, mate, don't know what you're talkin' 'bout - "

"She's right fuckin' there," Lemon pointed, outing his brother completely, "and you've been a bitch for too long about this. When are you gonna get another chance like right now? Swallow your fuckin' pride, yeah? And just go talk to her! Go apologize! Get her back! 'Cause, just look at her, mate," Lemon paused, both watching you, "think she's happy with a bloke like that? Treats her like that? Only time I ever saw her look at you like that was the night youse two broke up..."

Lemon offered a pursed-lip-smile, patting Tangerine on the shoulder twice and backing up a couple paces. It was like he watched the final bit of confidence Tan needed inject itself into his heart; shoulders almost doubling in size as he shed his suit jacket too casually. Lemon materialized to accept it, laying it in their private booth as Tangerine lit up a cigarette, pocketed his solid gold cuff links, and began rolling up his sleeves while surging through the VIP section and into the general population.

Lemon followed swiftly, several others on their tail as the promise of excitement was too good to pass up.

"I'm telling you, you're being fucking embarrassing!" Ryan was heard snarling. "Let's go home before you make it worse! I have a reputation to protect, imagine what anyone would say if they saw my girlfriend acting like a fucking fool!"

"Oh, Jesus, I have two shots and you think I'm wasted? That I have to go home? You think you can treat me like I'm some child? I'm not going anywhere with you," you snapped back.

"I told you we'd be here an hour - it's past that - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a birthday party! We weren't ever going to stay just an hour!"

"You're embarrassing yourself, now let's fucking go!" Ryan grabbed you again to emphasize his point, but you didn't even get a chance to struggle because Tangerine was imposing himself between you; plucking his smoldering cigarette from his lips, French inhaling the smoke. Ryan snarled, forced back a step, "The fuck - "

"She said she's not going anywhere with you, so I suggest you walk away," Tangerine growled, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Ryan scoffed, looking close to laughing.

"That's my girl you're fucking with, so, again, walk away," he lifted his cigarette for a puff.

"Tangie," you spoke gently, holding the back of his designer black shirt and gently tugging him backward, "Tangie, c'mon, baby, back up, let it go."

"'Your girl'?" Ryan actually laughed at Tan, not hearing you over the deafening music, but the two men were clear as day to one another. "Got it fucked up, playboy, if you're tryna tell me what's what about what's mine."

"Yeah?" Tan nodded, grinning slowly. "Think she's yours?"

"She ain't nobody else's - "

"That why she was coming to me this whole time?" Tan taunted. "'Cause you couldn't make her nut, couldn't fuck her right. What a fucking shame, then she had to come to me 'cause I don't disappoint her. She likes the way I fuck 'cause it's the only time I get rough with her, not like you - "

The gathered crowd gasped when Ryan swung first - everyone saw it. The punch never landed, Tangerine keeping you behind him as he adjusted to upper cut Ryan. It spurred an entire altercation; your girlfriends quickly scurrying out of the way as Ryan and "his boys" tried to take on Tangerine, Lemon, and their entourage. The smoldering cigarette was dropped. Security had to step in, blood making the linoleum floors slicker than spilt alcohol made it sticky, both parties being escorted out of different exits of the venue.

You were faced with a decision.

"Y/N! C'mon!" The birthday girl called, holding up her bloodied boyfriend. Ryan paused and glared at you, face fucked, nose broke, eye darkening, jaw swollen, blood smeared; waiting for your decision. You shook your head and let the drunken crowd swallow your form.

Unsure how, you were let into the VIP section to grab Tangerine and Lemon's belongings, quickly jogging in your glittering heels towards the back exit.

"Should've fuckin' killed him - did you fuckin' hear him!? You saw him, what he did!?" Tangerine was raging, pacing the alley as his group watched on; unsure what to say or do to calm him down. "He fucking grabbed her, too, should go find him - put his fucking face in the Goddamn pavement - "

"Hey."

Tangerine froze when your voice was heard, meekly standing there with suit jackets in arm.

"Baby girl!" Lemon barked, laughing happily and opening his arms. "Oh! There she is! C'mere!" He happily growled, hugging you tightly. The others picked up on the hint, excusing themselves to find the cars while Lemon greeted you and Tangerine almost shit a brick.

"Oh, uh," you breathed when Lem pulled away, "I grabbed your jacket, sweetie."

"Thanks, love, can always count on yah," he beamed, accepting the apparel. He glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "I, uh, I'll go help find the car. We'll be at the end of the alley, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, nodding; squeezing his arm softly before letting him pass. Almost sheepishly, you approached Tangerine, lips rolled between your teeth, noting the split lip and disheveled curls. His hands were on his hips, pacing a small circle, head tilted and unable to meet your gaze. "You, uh, got a li'l something," you gestured at your mouth.

His head lifted, seeing the small teasing glint to your eyes; making him smirk and joke back, "Yeah, just a bit, huh?"

"And you left this," you held out his suit jacket.

When he took it back, Tangie nodded and rushed, "Come home, doll."

"Aaron - "

"Nah, nah, c'mon, come home, baby, please. I know I've been the worst, I know you didn't deserve it - but after losing you... Actually losing you... I mean, when you didn't show up, like you said - I felt everything at once and I knew that I'd never be the man who deserved you, but I owed it to us to try. So... I made the decision to love you better."

"That's nice to hear, but - "

"But without action, it don't mean shit, I know," he finished for you, stepping closer to caress your cheek. "If you let me, baby, I swear, I'll love you better."

You couldn't verbally answer, just sigh and lean forward to rest your forehead on his chest for just a moment of peace. "Thank you," you mumbled, "for earlier, when Ryan got aggressive."

His arms came around in a vice, keeping you close and enveloped in his warmth. Tangerine promised, "Never gotta thank me, baby. Never." A horn blared from the mouth of the alley, knowing it was Aaron's people and you needed to make a decision. Right here. Right now. Yet, your ex just sighed and pulled away, offering, "We can drop you home, if you like. Or I'll get'cha a hotel, can crash with Brian - "

"Can I stay with you?"

Tangerine gulped, appearing shocked but agreeing, "Of course, baby, yeah, yeah, 'course, c'mon, let's go, this way, watch your step, love."

He quickly dropped his arms only to pull his jacket over your shoulders; keeping you at his side as he lead you to the idling car. Unknown to you, Ryan was at his own car, watching, waiting; seeing you leave with Aaron made his blood boil - but when his eyes connected with Aaron's over the roof of his car, seeing him grin, Ryan swore he could've gone postal.

"Are you guys alright?" You checked, Tan keeping you so close, you were practically on his lap. Brian was driving and two other guys sat passenger, all giving varying assurances that they were okay.

"Them frat fucks couldn't hit for shit, love, swear," Brian chuckled from the front seat. "Don't nobody fuck with our girl, yeah?"

"'Our girl'?" You repeated in amusement.

"You's Tangie's girl, yeah?" The guy next to you, codename Fuji, softly explained, "Makes you's untouchable, it does, yeah?"

You just chuckled slightly, readjusting so your arm around Tan's neck tightened; his own around your hips doing the same, silently snuggling closer. The car ride was entertaining to say the least, the lads filling the space with meaningless but very loud conversation about everything and nothing. To your relief, Lemon pulled up to Tan's building first; you two piling out of the car to the sounds of three randy lads cheering.

"C'mere," Tan huffed, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other offered the tinted car The Bird. He lead you towards the building, nodding to the doorman in greeting, "Big man."

This doorman had manned your building since years before you ever moved in; grinning at the sight of you, "Well, well, well... You two look real smitten, you do. There some reason? Aye?"

"Oh, I don't wanna hear it!" You whined jokingly, Tangerine laughing in triumph.

"Got my girl back," Tan clapped his hand into the doorman's, "huh? Told you."

"Aye-heeeyyyy! Welcome home, Missus!"

"Tuh," you barked with a fake laugh, sending Tangerine a sharp look over your shoulder. "Thank you, Thomas," you squeezed the man's arm as you passed.

"Ma'am," he tipped his hat, letting Tan go after you, before securing the door shut.

"Hear that?" You shot at Tan, the lobby attendant sitting up in attention behind the welcome desk. "Even Tom - "

"Don't start before we even get in the door," he chuckled, sighing, nodding to the pimply teen nephew of the building's owner before approaching the elevator bay.

"Don't be a dick - "

"I'm not trying to be, love, I just - I want us to get inside before we do. Yeah?" He frowned, petting hair from your forehead as the elevator dinged upon arrival. "I want us to talk 'bout it, alluvit, doll, but let us get home first."

You sighed and agreed, the machinery traveling up to your flat's floor; which required a key to access. There were only four flats on this floor - all having two stories - and when the elevator dinged to announce your arrival, one of the doors flew open.

You gasped, hand slapping to your mouth to hold in the shrill laughter that rammed into your lips in a desperate attempt to escape. Your eyes widened. You stopped short in your place when Ms. Roberts sauntered into her doorway, leaning on the frame in brand new, expensive, racy lingerie. Her greying hair was curled in stiff ringlets, her make-up heavy and obvious, smelling like she had bathed in perfume by the way it choked you in the hallway.

"Oh, hello, there. About time you got home - OH!" She purred in a low, sexy rumble before jumping in fright when she caught sight of you under Tangie's protective arm. With a squeal, she ducked back into her home and slammed the door; leaving you and Tan froze in place.

"Oh... My... God."

"Get inside, let's go, c'mon, inside, inside, inside, I won't survive if she comes back," Aaron laughed, ushering you to the door.

"I don't think she would, either," you couldn't help but giggle; entering over the threshold after Tan unlocked the door.

The lighter energy surrounding you two evaporated as you took note that Tangerine hadn't changed anything in the year (and change) you've been separated, a haunting comfort to see now. There was the familiar ghost of who you once were, but all of that was forgotten when Tan's hand slid around your waist from behind.

"All right, love?" He asked in your ear, mouthing at the shell in the way that made your head fall to the side.

"Just a lot of memories here," you whispered, holding his arms to your waist.

Tangerine licked at your exposed neck. "We'll make more," he promised.

"I'm sorry I missed so many."

He paused, sighing; forcing you to shiver from the shock of air over your wet skin. Tan straightened up but kept you in his arms, assuring, "It's my fault. But, uh..." Your head turned to look, watching Tan pull his wallet out and sigh sheepishly, open it, then pluck a gorgeous diamond ring from the bill slot.

"What the hell is that...?"

"When I found it, I first kept it in the box, always on me. Just in case, you know, the moment was right - that you'd believe me when I ask you to marry me. But the box kinda," he shrugged, "fell apart from me openin' it, movin' it around."

"So you put a," you squinted, holding his wrist to look at the ring pinched in his fingers, "3 karat diamond ring in your wallet?"

"3 and a half..."

"Aaron," you sighed, turning to face him fully; unable to tear your gaze away from the ring. "I don't want this ring if - "

"No, no 'ifs'," he rushed, "I swear, it's what I want - it's what I've always wanted and just couldn't admit. After tonight, I don't think I can keep this ring - it needs on your finger and that bastard needs put in the ground - "

"Can you not ruin this proposal by threatening to murder my ex?" You laughed, watching his split lips spread into a grin.

"This a proposal?"

"If you word it right, could be."

"Lemme get on my knee - "

"No," you stopped him, nodding, whispering, "just ask me."

Aaron blinked once in confusion, then simply asked, "Will you marry me?"

You levitated into his arms; arms coiling around his neck; lips to his; sucking air from his lungs into yours, mumbling, "Yes, yes, yes," repeatedly. In surprise, Aaron stumbled back a few steps but caught himself, chuckling, fully hoisting you into his embrace.

"Right answer," he teased, carrying you through the apartment and to the nearest piece of furniture - the couch. Dropping down with you straddling his lap, he chuckled, "Here, put it on, yeah? Keep it safe." You grinned and accepted the ring, letting him slide it on, but unable to admire it in full as it became a free-for-all frenzy; tearing clothes from the other, lips suckling, teeth clashing, spit smearing. Breaking apart for a moment, Tangerine growled, "I don't know if I love or hate tonight, huh? Seein' you with him, sayin' you'll marry me, comin' home - "

"Ace, Tangie? Baby?" You smirked, holding his cheeks to keep his face in front of yours, "Tonight's good - it's a good night. Yeah?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"It's a good night - say it."

"A good night - great night."

"Great fuckin' night," you agreed, "now, I need you to fuck me before I spontaneously combust - "

Aaron's mouth was on yours before the words were fully formed. You gasped, holding on tightly, encouraging his tongue to tangle with yours as the night's emotions overtook you both in a searing heat of passion. His hands planted on your hips and began guiding your movements in slow, languid strokes over his growing bulge you were seated on.

With a small growl, Tangerine pulled back only to flip you over; laying your back to the cushions so he could hover over you, his hips grinding between your spread legs. "Mine," he grit, licking into your mouth as he pushed his cock directly into your moistening center, "all mine. Hear me? All fucking mine - you won't ever be with another man. Yeah?"

You weakly whimpered, nodding; his teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling. Your breast was palmed by a hot and heavy hand; gasping when Tangie pinched your nipple through the fabric of your dress.

"Nah, nah, nah," Tan grumbled, "wanna hear you say it, baby. Need to hear it."

Boldly, you reached out to rub the heel of your palm into his leaking member, managing to speak against his lips, "I'm all yours, Aaron. Never anyone else's."

"Yeah?" He grit.

"Yeah," you nodded, giving a flex of your hand that made his shoulders stiffen, "and no other man will know me - nor will I know another man. It's you and me."

"About fuckin' time; ain't never lettin' you go again, baby," he breathed, taking both wrists in his to pin over your head. "Now... Let me make up for this past year."

Ms. Roberts wore noise canceling headphones the entire night and began researching new apartment buildings available for move-in ASAP.

Dawn broke, filling the room with a warm, bright light that accentuated the smoke wafting from Aaron's mouth. Neither of you got any sleep; exhausted in the best way possible, laid in bed, your head on his shoulder with arms bent to mindlessly twiddle together in the air.

"Remember that first retreat your company sent employees on?" Aaron asked softly, his other hand flicking his cigarette ash into a nearby ashtray.

"Hm... The one to Cancún?"

"Yeah."

"The one I missed 'cause we had a 48-hour romp?"

Tangerine laughed slightly, "That's the one."

"What about it?"

"Just... Laying here made me think of it. How fucked-out you were, how you missed your damn plane."

"You made me miss it!"

"That sounds accusatory."

You grinned when he lowered the cigarette to your lips, letting you puff it before pulling away. On exhale, you reminded, "You're the one who couldn't cut me a damn break."

"Since when do you want me to go easy on this pussy? Huh?"

With a snicker, you mused, "When you're whiskey-drunk and I'm drinking champagne?"

Tangie paused, then nodded, "Yeah, all right, that's fair. Whiskey dick ain't a joke, love."

You hummed and turned on your side into him, hiking your leg over his hips; snuggling into his warmth, new angle allowing you to gaze up at him. His arm laid around you in a secure hold, the other lazily smoking. You added, "Neither is being champagne drunk, makes me queazy."

"Probably not the best combination for fucking, huh?"

"I don't recommend it."

Aaron was quiet a moment, inhaling toxic smoke with a hiss through his teeth, "Bet they got champagne on them planes to Cancún."

"Bet they got champagne for other destinations, too," you teased. "Besides, why do you care? You're banned from popping bottles."

"Huh? Since when - why?"

"Since you sprayed me with a bottle that cost more than $3,000 USD!"

"If I can't spray my girl in luxury, what the fuck is this all for?" He smirked, looking down at you fondly.

"That bottle was meant to shmooze the German Ambassador!"

"Well, someone should've put a label on it!" You laughed his name, feeling his arm tighten. He tacked on, "Y'know, I gotta admit, just doesn't feel real yet."

"Hmm?"

"You... Back in my arms, in our bed - our home," he gave a great big deep sigh.

"It'll get real when people know we're back together."

"Is it wrong I want it to just be us for a bit? Private, intimate, just being together without everyone's outside influence or opinion?"

You smiled softly, "No, it's not wrong... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the same."

"Then how about we catch a flight outta here?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he beamed, suddenly struck with renewed vigor; positively radiating with excitement. You pulled off his chest in time for him to sit up, insisting, "Let's do it all again, baby. Let's catch a flight, change the weather to celebrate us promising forever."

"Tangie, baby, what're you talking about? We can't just up and leave - "

"Why not?"

"We have jobs! Or at least, I have a job with a consistent schedule."

"Oh, c'mon, doll, don't think too hard - let's go, let's catch a flight somewhere warm and sunny."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Tangerine shrugged, "Not likely. Can think of it as some engagement celebration - but just between us. I mean, it's never gonna be 'just us' again, you know?"

With a sigh, you agreed, "All right... Let's go."

"All right?"

"Yeah, all right, fine."

"Yeah? All right? Fine?"

"Oh, fuck about - don't parrot me, Aaron!"

He chuckled with a grin so wide, you wondered how it didn't split his face in two. Your fiancé playfully dropped onto your front; jostling the bed, arms planted on either side of you to keep his weight balancd while dotting rapid kisses around your face.

When satisfied, he pulled back and all but bounced out of bed while encouraging, "Let's go, c'mon!"

"Baby, wait - "

"You grab the passports, I'll pack for us!"

You paused to watch him rush into the walk-in closet, laughing and muttering as you climbed out of bed, "I'm gonna be in questionable clothing this whole vacation, aren't I?" There was a fond smile on your face.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[ghoastixx]

Alastor w/ teenage human reader

A.N: gender neutral reader. You insert your name at ‘____’

Warnings: abusive parents mentioned, Alastor being a bit intimidating for a while, this is very self indulgent so yeah!

Goodness…how did the radio demon stoop so low as to be collecting human souls? Honestly what a pity..

To be honest Alastor didn’t even really know what had happened. One moment he had been drinking some tea on the balcony of the hotel, enjoying some absolutely dreary sights, and then he just.. wasn’t-

It caught him off guard to say the least. His ear laid back as his claws gripped his mic tightly. His smile never faltering.

“Holy fuck it worked!” A voice rang out, sounding astonished and a bit..too alive. Alastor’s eyes drifted down a little bit to see a child. …are you serious. He had been summoned by a child. How humiliating.

‘_____’ looked up at the demon. They had to admit, they were a lot more terrified than they would’ve liked to of been. The two just sort of looked at each other for a while before the child spoke up. Getting off of their kneeling position.

“Are you..the radio demon?” Their voice was meek and curious. It was intriguing that a child was able to do all of this. Alastor’s smile hitched up his face,

“Why yes I am! I’m assuming you’re the human that summoned me.” His smile widened when the kid tensed at his static-y voice. The radio filter never letting him down.

“W-well yeah.” They stuttered, showing vulnerability. That was going to be their first mistake. “I-“ now they were stammering, “I didn’t think it would work- honestly. I was just trying to humor myself.” Alastor was starting to get pissy, he had more important things to do than talk to a human that didn’t even know what they were doing.

“You summon a very powerful demon for fun?” His voice sounded rough, that static becoming more prominent as he got angrier.

“Well- I didn’t really think about this. This stuff doesn’t happen! I- I read a lot and of course there was that rumor going around on how to actually summon one and I just-“ the kids rambling was interrupted by a yell from downstairs. The kid winced at a thud that followed shortly after and the sound of a female voice filled with rage. The sound was almost too familiar to the radio demon.

“There wasn’t anything you wanted? Nothing at all?” He asked impatiently. When the kid sheepishly shook their head he got ready to go back to hell, but then he heard another thump which got him thinking. Why waste a trip? Perhaps there was a deal to be made here. “Say kid, why don’t we make a deal?”

“A deal..? Isn’t it frowned upon to make deals with demons? There’s like..so many songs about that.” The kid was smart, Alastor didn’t like that.

“Nonsense! I’m looking out for your best interest, little fawn. I think you’re very smart, I want to show that. If you give me your soul, let me take care of it, find me human souls, I will make sure that you do not rot in this silly little town. These people around you will not weigh you down.”

It seemed Alastor hit the nail on the head when he saw the consideration in the kids eyes. I mean- of course! A small kid who is summoning demons? In a small town? Arguing parents? Why wouldn’t they want out! And it seemed Alastor was right too, when the kid looked at the smiling demon and tensed.

“Okay. It’s a deal.”

The first time Alastor came back up to visit the soul he learned was ‘____’ he was quite impressed by the work they had done. The kid explained the type of people that would definitely be going to hell, all for the demon’s delicious picking. The first visit was strictly business.

It was the second meeting that became more personal.

‘_____’ looked up from the book they were reading, the music that they had playing softly from their radio turning staticy. They had been trying to drown out the sound of the constant screaming and whining.

“Is that a radio?” A loud static voice made ‘____’ jump. Obviously they hadn’t been expecting dear Alastor, who laughed heartily at the sudden jump.

“Damn it- scared the piss out of me-“ the fawn mumbled. Alastor thought they were like a fawn at least. Skiddish and soft. Curious. He thought it was a good comparison.

“I do apologize my dear! But please do answer, I thought radio went out of style in this day of age.”

“Well, it’s certainly not as common anymore, but it hasn’t gone completely out of style. Records have made a bigger comeback than radio.”

“How curious,” Alastor hummed, the sound of it immediately grabbing the fawn’s attention. It humored him how easily he could get the focus on him. A bang was heard on the wall with an incoherent yell, the only eligible word being “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

‘_____’ shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious that they were trying to lose themselves in the radio. Alastor was starting to really like the little fawn, so he considered something.

Suddenly green fumes embedded themselves into the radio, making a static sound. The fawn looked up curiously,

“What did you do to my radio.”

“Patience, you’ll be able to tune into my broadcasts now. It’s only fair.”

The kid simply nodded. And they would listen to it. Because when Alastor decided to visit again for his souls, the kid would tell him it was quite morbid, but they liked the song selection.

This continued for a good while, the little fawn would tell Al about the new age for humans and Alastor would help distant the kid from their parents. If anything it boosted his ego, he felt like more of a stable figure for this kid than their own parents. And that would be put to the test when Alastor popped in only to see the little fawn curled up on the corner of their bed, so upset.

His ears flattened as his smile was forced. He couldn’t stand to see his little fawn so upset. He wasn’t sure when it became his little fawn instead of the little fawn, but he liked it better. It felt more appropriate.

“Now now, little fawn. I’m here, it’s alright.” He tried his best to console the little one.

Perhaps it was time to renegotiate their deal. Perhaps he could form this kid into a better version of themselves.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get this kid into hell.

[vatiiagames]

DEMO || FORUM || CONTENT WARNING

Vessel of Harkahn is an upcoming 18+ fantasy interactive novel that takes inspiration from the Dragon Age series, TTRPGs, A Song of Ice and Fire, as well as several other pieces of media.

⚡️ The Short Demo is complete! (As of 08/08/24)

⚡️ The Forum and Content Warning pages are a WIP! (As of 06/29/24)

When the Grand Duke of Le Versare is assassinated, his surviving children are left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.

With hardly any time to mourn their father, the Aurelios twins are approached by a mage who has suspicion to believe the assassination is tied to several events across the continent.

The mage also believes demonic influence in involved.

Many months after the assassination, Carlise Aurelios and Varre Delatore have discovered the resurgence of the demon Harkahn. The demon feasts on hatred and chaos but is much weaker than his first appearance centuries ago.

Harkahn now requires a vessel to survive in the mortal plane. He has yet to become strong enough to shed his vessel and exist in his demonic form.

You are his chosen vessel. Or, at least, you were.

After exorcising the demon from you, Carlise and Varre recruit you into the Band of Althor to aid their cause of defeating Harkahn. Seeing as you were his vessel, you have priceless intel on the demon's mind. You may have insight to his plans or possible weaknesses.

The only issue? You can't remember anything from your time possessed and even memories from before are foggy and shrouded. Trying to remember these lost memories causes you immense physical pain.

For now, you must find another way to help Carlise and Varre's cause.

⚡️ Create and customize your MC "The Vessel".

⚡️ Play as male, female or nonbinary.

⚡️ Play as an Elf, Half-Elf or Human.

⚡️ Choose from three classes to play from; Warrior, Rogue or Mage. Each class has its own unique Mentor.

⚡️ Shape your skills as you play.

⚡️ Six romance options to choose from alongside secret routes to discover as the story progresses. (All romance options are romanceable regardless of gender.)

⚡️ Help recruit others throughout Caadvir to join the Band of Althor. There is strength in numbers.

⚡️ Discover more about your lost memories and the significance of your Mentor.

Asan Aurelios || The Heir || Human

As the older one of the twins, Asan is the hereditary Grand Duke. He has big shoes to fill after his father's long and peaceful reign. Despite the weight on his shoulders, Asan keeps a bright smile on his face and pushes forward. He is more than supportive of Carlise's efforts to dispose of Harkahn, he just has other political matters to attend to.

Asan hails from the province Le Versare.

Carlise Aurelios || The Leader || Human || RO

As the younger one of the twins, Carlise doesn't hold as much weight to her shoulders. The line of succession has passed to her brother, which allows her to focus entirely on disposing of the demon Harkahn. She is calculating and, at times, cold. Carlise is the founder and leader of the Band of Althor and is greatly respected.

Carlise hails from the province Le Versare.

Varre Delatore || The Mage || Elf || RO

Varre is an extremely talented and powerful mage. He has spent many years studying and mastering magic at the White Tower of Castavel. His knowledge and experience is what drove him to discover Harkahn's resurgence and its influence throughout Caadvir. Varre approached Carlise and Asan about their father's assassination and its relation to Harkahn and has been by their side ever since. He aided Carlise in founding the Band of Althor.

Varre hails from the province Castavel.

Ewan Geraunt || The Viper || Human || RO

Ewan is part of the mercenary group called the Vipers of Venoss. They are regarded as the best mercenary group throughout Caadvir and some of their numbers have been worked all across the world. Ewan is a higher ranking member of the Vipers, but left the group shortly after experiencing an odd dream. After learning his birthplace suffered an attack from Harkahn, he immediately turned to the Band of Althor to serve their cause.

Ewan hails from the province Venoss.

Dea || The Halfblood || Half-Elf || RO

Dea had no place in Ordaire. As a place still ruled by their distaste for humans, half-elfs are heavily frowned upon and outcast by society. She spent many years in and out of street and bar fights alike. Like Ewan she found herself in a mercenary band, but unlike him it didn't last too long. She jumped from band to band, job to job, until she landed on the Band of Althor. She works for Carlise now but who knows how long that will last?

Dea hails from the province Ordaire.

Kizan Fremont || The Knight || Human || RO

The Fremont family have long been allies of the Aurelios family. Kizan's father before him served the Grand Duke of Le Versare as his protector. The mantle was passed to Kizan a few years prior to the assassination. He is the Knight Commander of Le Versare's Order of Cor. While his duties keep him busy most of the time, Kizan will always find time for himself and make the most of it.

Kizan hails from the province Le Versare.

Amysa Briarfel || The Apprentice || Human || RO

Amysa has spent much time studying magic at the White Tower of Castavel. She plans to become a Mentor at the tower, which has earned her the title of Apprentice. Part of Amysa's apprenticeship is traveling throughout Caadvir and assisting different noble houses. When she finally landed upon House Aurelios, she willingly chose to put her apprenticeship on hold to stay and help the Band of Althor.

Amysa hails from the province Xinthe.

Préaux || Warrior Mentor || Human

Préaux is a well-known and respected knight from Itresse. They served the Grand Duke of Itresse for many years before retiring and disappearing entirely. Préaux earned many nicknames throughout their life like 'The Saint of Silver' and 'The Silver Serpent'.

Préaux hails from the province Itresse.

Jaq the Grin || Rogue Mentor || Half-Elf

Jaq the Grin is an infamous thief who terrorizes Caadvir. They have never been caught or really seen. Those who claim to have witnessed Jaq state that the only thing they could remember from the encounter was Jaq's impossibly huge grin, which earned them their nickname.

Jaq the Grin hails from the province Ordaire.

Erina || Mage Mentor || Elf

Erina is a Mentor at the White Tower of Castavel. Having served many years as a Mentor, Erina is highly respected and not a force to be trifled with. Many students of Erina have gone forth to achieve greatness in their lives, such as serving a Grand Duke or King or Queen.

Erina hails from the province Venoss.

[sharkorok]

all eyes on you (enhypen)

or the moments that make everyone think you’re dating

cw/genre: idol!reader, reader doesnt have specified gender but implied to be a female, fluff, so cute bye, secret relationships, humor, u have delulu fans

requested: naurrr

a/n: ehe thx for 100 followers :) I hope my writing makes u happy because knowing people read my works makes me super duper happy! luv uuuu

•-•-•-•-•-•

heeseung

-at an awards show your outfits were matching, like very obviously matching

-matching bracelets, you had one on your left wrist and he had one on the right, the colors matched each other, same style and aesthetic…

-he gets v nervous but also you were in some dating rumors with another idol so…he wouldn’t be mad if he was next tbh….BUT THEN UR GROUP WAS ASSIGNED NEXT TO HIM??

-dawg was sweating the whole time trying not to admire you and how cute you two looked

-but no every one of those “enhypen mma reaction” or “heeseung reaction focus” showed him very clearly staring at you 😭, twt had a field day with you two

-he can’t help it, you looked so good and how can he keep his eyes off his lovely s/o when they’re all dressed up + matching?? seriously his management was insane for putting him so close to you

-and when all groups were leaving he was seen literally sprinting to be closer to you

-ya dispatch didn’t even need to confirm anything after that awards show

the others r below!

jay

-during a live he got his guitar out and started playing all your favorite songs

-and this was literally a day after you named your favorite songs

-then to make it worse he was like “yeah these are y/n’s favorite songs don’t they have good music taste?” and then he kept talking about you and staff was sweating while watching istg

-the way he talked about you tho,,he either had a massive crush on you or you two were dating

-the ship edits the next day were insane honestly some of your fans need to get into the editing business because you genuinely believed a photo of him holding your waist was taken at inkigayo

-he doesn’t even try to hide how much he likes you istg, he goes out of his way to talk to you at awards shows and always films challenges with you, he gives the shippers so much content

-then another time jay cooked your favorite food in a vlog and specifically said it was your favorite food, name dropping and everything

-literally no one is surprised that you two are confirmed dating after a while.

jake

-accidentally went on live while talking about you

-he fully believed he closed out of the app when he was talking to jay and saying stuff like, “I’m really excited to see her at the performance, I hope we have time to hang out…” and then he hears notifications and sees that he was streaming and he nearly faints

-plays it off like he fully intended for everyone to hear that and continues like he planned on going live

-he’s also trying to hide the way his eyes flickered up to your rapid texts being like, “JAKE WHY ARE WE TRENDING ON TWITTER??”

-jay is behind the camera just trying not to laugh becuz how do you even recover from this one, literally all the comments are talking about you and him

-“y/n…? yeah ahahah I know her uh huh mhm anyways moving on” and his horrible deflecting skills are making it even more obvious

-and when you go on live?? oh u bet the comments are “did you see jake’s recent live?? are u cheating on us y/n?”

-u desperately distract by spoiling your comeback but there’s already 14k Tik toks analyzing every interaction you had with Jake and why you two are cosmically intertwined

sunghoon

-describes you to a T when asked about his ideal type

-he meant to just mention the broad details but he gets excited talking about u ok :(

-“yeah a good heart and around (your exact height), with (the hex code of your eye color) eyes, born on (your birthday), hobbies include (every single one of your hobbies) and also…(literally all the information under your kprofiles page)”

-ur fans catch on and are like “isn’t this literally y/n” and he’s like “omg nooo coincidence”

-it is NOT a coincidence bro he was fully thinking of you and only you during that interview

-anyways you don’t help the situation by describing him too when asked about your ideal type, but ur at least a tad less obvious 😭

-“yea I love guys who ice skate and stuff”

-u two definitely get scolded by management

sunoo

-sometimes he forgets to care about keeping things secret (like that lipton tea thing he did)

-so he’s showing fans his camera roll and he shows selfies you never posted before…in his camera roll…never before seen by anyone but him and you to the camera and is like

-“y/n’s visual is so perfect, right?”

-and yeah duh ur stunning and gorgeous but fans are distracted by your beauty for a second before being like “hm…how did he get those selfies and why r they in his camera roll”

-ur fans r thankful for the content tho so he kinda did everyone a favor

-but it’s a LITTLE suspicious…but neither of you address anything so it just festers a little

-until you two do a tik tok challenge together and he captions it with a heart emoji like oh my god 😭

-you’re not innocent either when you said “sunoo’s visual is so amazing” like both of you get some media training I beg

-everyone loves how obviously whipped you two are for each other tho :,)

jungwon

-accidentally exposes your polaroid in his phone case

-thankfully he has photos of his members and maeum but why were you there??

-he completely ignores it tbh he shows the photos to the camera and is like “these r the polaroids in my phone case. anyways.” n he’s playing it cool but internally he’s PANICKING

-“hopefully they didn’t see the heart I drew on the Polaroid,” he thinks foolishly

-we did.

-so you try to do some damage control on your own live when asked about why he has ur photo in his phone and ur like “oh we’re really close friends!!”

-n honestly that’s a good and healthy response because everyone has the right to their platonic relationships

-but jungwon’s heart he drew on your Polaroid was just a little bit tooooo suspicious…anyways this leads to fans over-analyzing every single interaction to the point you two weren’t allowed to be seen in a ten foot proximity at events for a while

-but at least it reminded jungwon to be more careful lolol

niki

-accidentally rizzes you up on live television

-you’re an mc for smth and you’re interviewing enhypen and you’re like, “oooh, some burning questions, what is your ideal type?”

-and Niki, with no hesitation fully goes, “you lol” and you see ur career flash before your eyes

-ur co mc is nervously laughing and niki realizes like oh wait we’re being broadcasted so he’s like “oh just kidding haha!!!” even though you two are making awkward eye contact while you’re mentally scolding him

-he’s so used to teasing and flirting with you in private so it’s a little hard to shake off in public

-anyways fans notice he’s looking at you a little too lovingly and being a little too genuine when he responded so it’s not long before you see ship edits on Twitter and tik tok

-doesn’t help when you answer the ideal type question with “someone who is playful and funny” thinking it was broad enough but ‘twas not <3

-he doesn’t really care too much but thought it was funny, even if he had to take a media training class again afterwards >:T

[bisexual-biohazard5]

Percy Weasley HC: Music

When I see headcannons about Percy Weasley, some of them are about his music taste which normally head cannoned as jazz or classical music which I understand because it fits his vibe. But I love the idea of a smart, nerdy looking perfect prefect Percy listening to Riot Grrl. (For those who don't know, riot grrl is like femal metal that talks about sexism, misogny and is about feminism. It also occurs during 1970s to 1990s so it makes sense historically as well.)

Percy is an intelligent person so he should be able to see that sexism and misogny is wrong and that the sterotypes about genders are incorrect. (Feminist Percy Weasley is my life.)

So one day he listening to the radio at the burrow which no one else is really paying attention to and hears it for the first time and instantly gets obsessed. He wants to help the women and is inspired by the music which could tie into his obsession with the ministry because he wants to fix the corruption and sexism in the country. It's one of the reasons he wanted to be Minister of Magic so he could try and help end sexism and gender sterotypes.

Also he 100% had a Walkman cassette tape. It was made in 1979 and was actually really popular. Riot Grrl surfaced in 1970s to 1990s so it just makes sense to me that Percy would have a walkman and listen to female rock. Oh and his favouite bands are The Slits and Bikini Kill. His favourite songs are 'New Radio' and 'Rebel Girl'.

(And imaging sweet prefect perfect Percy Weasley who no one has ever seen do a wrong thing, listening to Riot Grrl and singing along to the lyrics, yes, even the swears, is funny to me and I hold this hc close to my heart. And did I spend 30 minutes researching so it all makes sense with the production of the Walkman and when the bands were formed? Yes. Yes I did. Do I regret it? absolutely not.)

(Oh and Oliver 100% found him singing vulgar lyrics and fell for him even more. Also Oliver would be opposite and listen to Jazz and classical because I love couples that have interests that are like the complete opposite to what their vibe is or what other people think and it's unpredictable and no one would believe it until they saw it themselves. While Percy has a walkman, Oliver would have collections of vinyls just like in Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. Whenever the gryffindors in the common room hear just heavy metal from their dorm, they assume it's Oliver when it's actually Percy.)

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Here is my conclusion Clears throat

#Percy Weasley Defense squad #Perciver

Audience cheers and applaudes.