#which means i get to go apartment shopping AND car shopping ALL AT THE SAME TIME

[mayflydecember]

fuck my stupid baka life

[jamminvroomvroom]

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

-

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

-

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

-

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

-

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

-

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

-

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

-

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

-

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

-

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

-

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

-

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

-

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[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 4 - Build

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Me again! We’re back. Sorry I know I keep adding new parts but I’ve broken up the final chapter into two as it just keep going and this is a huge bumper one (sorry). I promise there genuinely will only be one more looool. Thanks again for all of your reblogs/comments/love for this story, it means a lot!!

💔

Lou had welcomed you back with open arms, fixing you up with a waitress job at the diner. Of course he had. Lou was like the father you’d never had. His love was one of the few constants in your life.

Mercifully, he didn’t ask you much about Bucky, didn’t chastise you for making a bad choice and getting involved with a mob boss. That wasn’t what Lou was about. He knew that ‘I told you so’ served no purpose, he knew that you were a big girl and there was nothing he could tell you that you didn’t already know yourself. So why bother? All that mattered was that you were here, and you needed him. He would always catch you when you fell.

Going back to waitressing didn’t feel like you’d taken a step back or that you’d somehow failed, if anything it was quite nice to see this former version of your life once more. And you’d missed chatting with the regulars, helping Lou with the accounts, occasionally fighting small fires (both metaphorical and very occasionally, literal). With Bucky you didn’t need to work, which was nice in one way, but you’d missed the structure and purpose your old job had given you. You previously had no interest in daily gossipy lunches with the other mob wives, and there was only so much shopping you could do.

“How did we ever cope without you?” Lou had asked one morning after you’d successfully chased and caught a dine and dasher, and saved hundreds of dollars on the power bill after negotiating a new contract. All before 10am.

You grinned, “I feel the same way about this place”.

You had moved in with Wanda, she had insisted - despite your protests. She and her boyfriend, Vis, gave you the spare room and said you could stay until you got back on your feet. It was small and full of all the extra stuff they couldn’t fit elsewhere in their apartment, but you didn’t care. You would’ve been happy with the couch, or a sleeping bag on the floor.

Nat was equally helpful, sorting you out by buying new clothes and shoes in your size and giving you some of the toiletries and make-up she didn’t use. She even cut and restyled your hair (‘because hair holds memories’, she told you) and took on whichever role you needed. Sometimes that was nights on her couch crying as she held you, other times it was hitting up the bars and trying to forget. She did it all. She had come and got you that morning at the hotel, after you sent her a frantic message from the rickety computer explaining what had happened. She told you she’d be there in 30 minutes…but ended up doing the trip in 20.

One afternoon a week or so later, Bucky’s men radioed him to let them know that there was a redhead in a Mercedes at the front gates demanding to speak to him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d sighed as he saw her familiar face on the security monitor and told them to let her in. He knew this day would come. He dismissed them, they didn’t need to be here for this.

Nat had parked up and casually exited the car, strolling across the patio as Bucky stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable. She didn’t keep him waiting long, slugging him across the jaw with a sharp ‘thwack’ causing him to stagger back against the doorframe.

“Got it. Anything else to say?” he groaned.

She nodded and then kneed him hard in the groin, turning on her heel as she left him in a crumpled heap and ambled back to her car.

“I warned you this would happen if you hurt her”, she called out calmly without looking back.

“Always good to see you, Nat”, Bucky managed to eke out as she slammed the car door.

The generosity of them all was overwhelming, you knew how lucky you were. It’s often said that you don’t know who your true friends are until you fall on hard times, and your friends had proved themselves tenfold. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to repay their kindness.

💔

It had been about six weeks since the night at the hotel when he started coming to the diner. No goons or hangers-on, just him. Which was almost unheard of, given his position.

The first time was a Friday morning, around 9am. He sat in the corner booth, head buried in the menu.

“I can kick him out, hon’, I’m not scared of him”, Lou had snarled as he glared over at the man in the booth.

“It’s okay, Lou. I can handle him,” you told him gently, giving his arm a reassuring stroke.

You took a deep breath as you approached his table. You couldn’t see his face, just his hands, an eerie mirror of the first time you’d met.

“What can I get you?” you asked as you readied your pad and pen, your voice surprisingly even, in spite your stomach’s somersaults.

He lowered the menu slowly and you couldn’t deny it was good to see him again. His blue eyes shone, the former dusting of stubble over his chin and jawline now a fuller beard - just as tantalising as it had always been. A few strands of his hair had come away from the carefully styled gel, framing his face perfectly. Some of your former anger towards him bubbled away beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny you had also missed him. You had loved him, after all.

The two of you shared a knowing smile.

“You know there are like…hundreds of other breakfast places in this city, right?” you teased, but half-serious.

“I do…but this is the only one that gets my eggs just right,” he grinned back.

“Mmm. I’ll pass your compliments onto the chef. You still want the usual?”

“Please”.

You scribbled down the familiar order onto the page. It felt strange to write it down again, it had been a long time since you’d done that for him.

“Are you going to behave?” you questioned, arms folded.

“Mostly”.

“You’d better. Lou will have your ass if you don’t” you scoffed.

“I don’t doubt it”.

“And Bucky, if you’re here to-” you began, your face betraying the pain that still lurked within you.

“I’m not”, he cut you off. “Just breakfast. I promise”.

You nodded, pressing your lips together with trepidation. The two of you watched the other for a few seconds.

“Well, okay, that’ll be right out”.

You turned and put his order into the kitchen. You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching.

“Here you go”.

You returned to the booth a little later, laying out the plates and re-filling his coffee, he thanked you and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.

“I like your new hair”, he said as he began to cut up his food, his eyes not leaving the table.

“Thanks. I like your new beard”.

“Thanks. Business going okay here?”

“Doing well. Yours?”

“Same old, same old…”

“And…Rumlow?” you asked, your throat catching a little as you said his name.

“Terminated” he replied coldly as he took a sip of coffee.

“Yes…I presumed so. HYDRA?”

“I finally cut off all of those heads”.

“I hope you mean metaphorically”.

“Mostly. The girls good? Vis?”

“All good. Steve? Sam?”

“Also good”.

“Good”.

“Good”.

“Well…good to catch up. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy”.

“Thanks”.

You waited for some big trick or reveal, but it never came. He ate his meal, drank another coffee refill, paid the bill, tipped, and left within the hour. Like any other customer. Lou was sceptical, and so were you – but there nothing to suggest it was anything else but breakfast…like he said.

And that’s how it was every Friday after that. He’d come in at 9am on the dot, sit in the same booth. Order the usual. You were always his waitress. Everything was the same, every week. The other regulars knew to avoid sitting at his table at that time. The other servers would barely bat an eyelid as he strolled in, taking for granted that you’d be along shortly to put his order in – even if he wasn’t in your section that morning. And it was…fine. He didn’t try and do anything more, didn’t ask you to meet anywhere or for a chance to talk. You initially thought it would be hard to see him again, but it was okay. Maybe a future where the two of you just pleasantly co-existed was possible.

The two of you would chat. Just small talk at first. Occasionally a joke. Even Lou would chat to him sometimes, he was still wary of Bucky but more open to him than he was previously. He certainly didn’t mind him spending money in his restaurant.

Weeks soon became months. Seasons changed. Still, he came in every week, rain or shine. Plates and plates of eggs eaten; endless coffee mugs refilled. He didn’t ever skip it, he was never sick, never seemed to take vacations. He showed up every time. Even if you weren’t there.

The small talk eventually evolved, so slowly you barely noticed it happen. You chatted more about the old times, memories started to feel fonder rather than sad reminders of what was lost. He told you anecdotes about Steve and Sam. You told him about Wanda and Vis, about Nat. You laughed uproariously one morning over the story of Sam’s disastrous vacation involving a mistaken suitcase and an overzealous TSA agent. It was nice to just sit and talk with him, just be with him. No expectations or obligations. You hadn’t forgiven him. You weren’t sure you ever could. But you had missed him. And seeing him for an hour every week, on your turf, just shooting the breeze – that was nice.

“So, you seeing anyone?” you asked one morning as you sat across from him in the booth and sipped your drink, your break coinciding with the end of his meal. You weren’t sure where it came from, but it popped out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. The curiosity was eating you alive. You seemed to talk about everything apart from his love life.

He firmly shook his head, “nope”.

You frowned. “Really? When was the last time you went on a date?”

“With you,” he replied in that no-nonsense tone of his.

You cocked your head, peering over at him in disbelief.

“But Bucky…”

“What? I’m not interested in anyone else”.

“But we’re not together. And it’s been months”.

“I know”, he replied stoically as he sipped his coffee. His eyes seemed to be studying you.

“And we’re not getting back together…”

“I know”.

“But…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, but I-I don’t like this. It feels like a ploy, somehow. To push me into taking you back” you stammered, your finger dancing on the rim of your mug.

“It’s not. It’s just a fact. I didn’t even bring it up, you did”.

He was frustratingly calm and unperturbed, finishing his breakfast like this was just some casual conversation about the weather or a movie he’d seen.

“So…what, you’re never gonna date anyone again? Is that it?” you scowled.

He shrugged, “I never said that. It’s just not something I’m looking to do right now. Work is taking up most of my time. Plus, I’m in therapy, working through a few things. I’d rather be in a better place before I start dating again. Learn from my past mistakes”.

“Oh…” you responded in surprise, “well…that’s very mature of you. And is it…helpful?”

“Mmm, pretty eye opening,” he nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, “I’d recommend it to anyone,” he looked at you pointedly.

You felt the heat at your cheeks, perfectly aware that he was suggesting you do the same. And he was probably right. But you didn’t like the potential to appear vulnerable in front of him, so you merely shrugged and went back to rubbing your coffee cup. You were genuinely pleased for him…it was just unfortunate that your break-up was the catalyst. You felt a wave of grief roll through you.

You paused for just a beat, again unable to stop your word vomit.

“Are you gonna ask if I’m seeing anyone?”

“No”.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business. You can date whoever you want”, he shrugged, keeping his attention on his plate.

You frowned. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Yes. I just want you to be happy, doll”.

“Bullshit!” you scoffed, “you once picked a man up by his ankles and dipped his head in the toilet because he grabbed my ass at that party…”

“Well, that was deserved. And I didn’t flush it on him, so he got off easy…”

You pointed an accusatory finger at him across the table. “Buck…I know you. What’s your game, here?”

He sighed heavily, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. His eyes finally moved up from his plate to meet yours. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just like being with you? In whatever form I can? That maybe I’m happy just getting this time with you every week, no matter what happens between us?”

“And that’s enough for you?” you asked incredulously.

He shifted in his seat, his tone suddenly very serious.

“Look, doll. I’m always going to love you. And I’m always going to be honest with you. If you turned around tomorrow and you told me you wanted to give things another shot – sure, I’d bite your hand off to accept. But I live in the real world. And I know you aren’t likely to forgive me for what I did, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. I’m just happy to have you in my life in some way, even if that’s just talking to you every Friday while I have my breakfast”.

You blinked back at him, unsure whether to take him at his word or if this was some manipulation tactic. The word ‘love’ echoed in your ears, and you had to shake it off that he said he still felt that way about you. Maybe this was all some trick. You knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.

But as you looked into his eyes, for a moment his sentiment felt…genuine. Real. Maybe he was telling the truth.

“Fine”, you sighed as you took a sip from your cup, “I get paid to be here either way…”

💔

A few more months passed, it had been nearly a year since the break-up. Bucky remained a weekly customer but nothing else. You’d finally moved out of Wanda’s into your own place – a shitty, cramped studio apartment was the best you could do on a waitress wage and tips – but it was yours. It had been such a long time since you’d had your own space, you loved every meagre inch.

You'd also started therapy, to help get your head around your childhood and abandonment issues - to help understand why you were always ready to run and expect everything to collapse. Bucky was right, it was valuable - if not hard going. But you knew it was helping, even though nothing could be 'fixed' overnight.

You still visited Wanda and Vis regularly. In fact, you were over there laughing with Wanda and making an early dinner when you got the call that Friday evening. She knew something terrible had happened from the way your face fell, your eyes widening with shock as you listened to the voice on the other end telling you whatever horror story it was. Seconds later you were rushing out of the front door and trying to wrangle on your coat and grab your bag, as she called out to you in a panic just steps behind.

“It was a massive heart attack,” the doctor had said as she eyed the clipboard in front of her. “He was lucky that a passerby on the street called an ambulance, if he’d been alone…he may not have been able to call himself, and if it had been too late…”

You had not been at the hospital long, sweating and panting in your rush to get down there. Your head fuzzy, unable to fully take in what you’d been told. The doctor was still talking, her voice an unidentifiable drone in your ears as you concentrated all your efforts on staying upright. You tugged off your coat, suddenly far too hot. The hospital felt like a furnace, suffocating and stifling. You were dizzy, everything felt blurred.

A couple of chairs sat a few feet away along the sterile-looking hallway, you plopped down into one and put your head in your hands.

“Can she see him?” Wanda asked the doctor, her hands patting your shoulders supportively.

“He’s stable, but the team are just doing some observations on him. Plus, he needs to rest, and might be feeling groggy after the meds. He’ll be out for a good while. It might take some time to be conscious and lucid again, so-”

“I’ll wait,” you said defiantly, the first time you’d spoken since you got there. “However long it takes”.

“Yes, I understand. And you’re his…friend?”

“Daughter,” you corrected. “I’m Lou’s daughter. Well…good as. He doesn’t have any other family. Neither of us do…”

The doctor nodded kindly, pointing out the coffee machine across the hall and leaving you to it.

💔

Wanda waited with you for a while, but she had a work event that night. She insisted she’d stay but you waved her off, telling her you’d check in with her later. She’d been planning that event for months. Lou would be mad at her for missing it, let alone over him. And you meant it, you didn’t want her missing it because of you.

So, she left. Leaving you by yourself in the hard chair with the plastic cup of lukewarm motor oil masquerading as coffee. Nat was out in the Bahamas with some hottie for the week, and you didn’t really want to bother Vis, so you sat quietly alone. You kept sane by reminding yourself that Lou was stable, and his prognosis looked good. He would be okay. He would. He’s made of strong stuff.

Another hour went by, and you couldn’t help your tears from falling as you began to work yourself up worrying, exacerbated by the fact you hadn’t eaten and had nobody around to stop you from spiralling. Wanda had sent a few texts, but you knew she was busy and didn’t need you distracting her. You just wished you had someone to talk to. Or not even talk to, just be with. You squeezed your phone in your hands as if willing the idea that someone would suddenly call you out of the blue. A friend you’d forgotten, a long-lost family member. But there was nobody.

Well, almost nobody.

You pulled your purse onto your lap and dug through, retrieving your wallet at the bottom. You opened it up and checked each card holder until you found what you were searching for, slightly worn and torn tucked behind the library card you barely used, but the details still clear as day.

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

Director of 107 Inc.

You had scooped up the card after he left it in the hotel room. It was a bit of a split decision, you’d nearly tossed it in the trash but changed your mind at the last second and jammed it into your wallet, not really thinking about why. You hadn’t looked at it since, you’d never transferred his number into your phone, or even spoken to him outside of Fridays at the diner. But he had become something of a friend over the last few months, and you were surprised to find yourself looking forward to seeing him every week. It was as if you’d gotten to know each other again from scratch, a slow-burn friendship grown over time – the complete opposite of your initial whirlwind relationship, where heat had won out over foundations. But now, you felt you knew him differently. It was funny how you get to know somebody without the chemistry and physical attraction fogging up your brain.

Was this stupid? Were you asking for trouble? But…it would be nice to talk to someone. Just a phone call, nothing more. You took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the keypad before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Hello?” came his gruff voice in your year after two rings.

You sat upright, surprised he had even answered at all – let alone so fast. You hadn’t really thought about what you were going to say.

“Hey, Buck, I…” you squeaked, unable to mask the emotion in your voice.

“Doll?” his voice immediately softened, “what is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…well, no, actually. I’m at Mount Sinai…uh…Lou-uh, Lou had a big heart attack and I’m at the hospital and hesreallysickandI-I…”

You sobbed, your words melting into one as the pain of saying them out loud hit home, “I’m sorry I…”

“Hey. It’s okay. Take a moment for me, alright? Take a deep breath doll…”

You closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling, blowing the air out of your lips like he said. You did it a few times, feeling slightly better afterwards,

“Good, that’s good,” Bucky told you. “Are you by yourself? Are Wanda and Nat there with you?”

“No…Wanda is working, Nat’s away. It’s fine…I just…”

“I’m so sorry about Lou, doll”, he said tenderly. “Do you want me to come down there?”

“No…no…it’s okay…I just. I just wanna talk,” you replied, wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand.

“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. What shall we talk about?”

You sighed, “I don’t know. Anything. Anything that isn’t hospitals or heart attacks…or food. Because I haven’t eaten and I’m starving.”

“Alright. Hmm. Well…I had to break up a fight between Thor and Scott today, if that helps distract you…”

“What? But Thor is twice Scott’s size. That was mean of him…”

“No…Scott started it. Said Thor was mouthing off about something or other and it all blew up. Scott swung for him”.

“What?? Is he insane?” you practically shrieked, the beginnings of a giggle forming in your throat as you tried to imagine Scott trying to land a punch as Thor towered above him.

“I guess so. But they worked it out. Last time I saw them they were laughing, and Thor was swinging him from his shoulders”.

You laughed. A proper, deep belly laugh. It felt good. Cathartic. You could practically see some of the tension leave your body.

“Well, I’m glad they figured it out. What else did you do today, Buck?”

“Hm. Not a lot. Mostly work. I went to the park. Just to get some air. Went to that duck pond you like and sat on the bench for a while”.

You smiled, “I love that pond”.

“I know. Remember that time you nearly fell in trying to help that duckling trapped in the weeds?”

“I do. I remember that you had to catch me and I accidentally splashed pondwater on your suit as I stumbled…” you laughed fondly.

“Not the worst thing I’ve had my dry cleaner remove for me. And we got the duckling back to its mom, even if she was furious at us”.

“She tried to bite you…”

“She succeeded”.

You both chuckled for a moment as you reminisced, then it suddenly went quiet between you both. You held the phone tightly to your ear, unsure and a little lost for words. It felt odd to feel tongue-tied around Bucky, it had always been so easy to know what to say to him. Despite how easy it was to slip back into nostalgia just now, and your newfound friendship, there was still something of a gulf between the two of you. You had been apart for so long now.

“…thanks, Buck,” you whispered.

“Anytime, doll”.

💔

After you hung up with Bucky, a nurse came over and you shot up out of your chair with anticipation. She told you that Lou was doing well but was slowly coming around after a heavy sedative. He should be ready for visitors in another hour or so. You sighed heavily but nodded grimly, as long as Lou was alright – that was all that mattered.

You sank back into your faithful chair, pulling out your rapidly dying phone again and wishing you had the foresight to bring a charger when you left Wanda’s. Or some food, at least.

You continued your vigil in the unfeeling hospital hallway, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. But you had to admit, speaking to Bucky had raised your spirits a little. It reminded you of the old days, when he was an anchor in a storm, a calming presence when things were tough. Part of you had missed that.

You’d just closed your eyes a little while later when you heard someone call your name.

“Still hungry?”

Your eyes filled with tears as your head snapped to see who it was.

There stood Bucky dressed in his off-duty grey sweats, his unstyled hair flopping across his forehead. In his hand was a brown bag, you instantly recognised the brand of your favourite take-out place printed across the front. It smelled heavenly.

“Buck…?” you mumbled in shock, not quite believing he was there, “what…what are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “you said you were alone and hadn’t eaten. I know how you get when you’re anxious. Figured you could use this”.

It wasn’t clear if he meant the food or the company, but in that moment, you were grateful for both.

He sat in the chair next to yours and began to methodically remove the food tubs, placing them on your lap and opening the lids as he pulled out a fork and napkins.

“Hope you still like this one,” he said as he revealed your usual order.

“I do”, you replied, your voice small.

“Good. Dig in.”

You began to eat slowly, feeling strangely self-conscious about your audience. Fortunately, he pulled out a tub of his own which took the focus off you. The two of you sat side by side and ate in silence.

“Thanks for this, Bucky,” you mumbled between mouthfuls.

“Anytime. Any news on Lou?”

“Should be ready for visitors soon”.

“Well, that’s good. He’s a tough old bastard.”

You both finished your meals and Bucky got to work tidying up the empty containers and old napkins and depositing them in the trash. You thanked him as he sat back down.

“Hey…thanks again, that was really thoughtful - but really, you don’t have to stay,” you shrugged, “you probably have a busy night”.

He shook his head, “nope. I’m wide open”.

He stared straight ahead and leaned back, his bulk squeezing up against the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“What do you mean when you said, ‘I know how you get when you’re anxious?’” you asked him tentatively.

“Just…I know how you can spiral when you’re stressed. Figured you could use some company is all,” he casually as he moved his hair away from his face.

“T-thanks,” you responded, your throat dry, “I’m not really up to chatting much right now, though”.

He was nonchalant, “that’s fine”.

The two of you sat side by side, nothing said.

It was awkward at first, sharing this cold and sterile space with your ex, worries about Lou weighing you down. But then after some time…it was sort of…okay? He didn’t try to initiate any conversation; he didn’t show any signs of boredom – even though he must’ve been feeling it. Didn’t complain. Didn’t check his watch. He just sat and waited with you, his arms propped up casually on the armrests and his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. You were grateful that he’d heeded your request not to speak as you didn’t have the brain power to labour a conversation. You didn’t fully understand why, but him just physically being there was strangely comforting - as odd as that was to admit to yourself.

Eventually the nurse returned, her smile warm as she greeted you.

“Oh, you have a friend. Right on time, Lou is ready to see you now”.

You quickly got to your feet and dashed after her as she led you to Lou’s room. Bucky followed close behind.

Your heart sank when you finally saw him, covered in wires and tubes, his face suddenly much older than his years. You gasped, rushing over to his bedside.

“Hey, kiddo” he wheezed, a smile creeping over his face despite the obvious effort it required, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Oh God, Lou, I was so scared…I thought you’d…” you took his hand in yours, unable to say the words out loud as the tears started again.

You felt like you’d cave in on yourself from the anguish, but a steadying hand found its way to your shoulder from behind you. Bucky squeezed once, a small reminder of his presence, then pulled his hand away. It was grounding, helpful.

“Hey there hon, I’m doin’ okay”, Lou rasped as he weakly tried to grip your hand in return. “But I guess this is a good reminder to lay off the bacon, huh?” he chuckled before the effort caused him to wheeze.

You smiled faintly and patted his hand, careful to mind the IV by his fingers, “you gotta start taking better care of yourself, okay? No more greasy breakfasts at work…”

He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Bucky behind you, “you brought company…”

“Oh, yeah”, you turned to gesture to Bucky, “he sat with me and brought me dinner while I waited”.

Lou nodded, a flash of something in his eyes you couldn’t place. “You takin’ care of her?”

Bucky nodded in return, “of course”.

Lou inhaled deeply, “well…alright, I’m glad she’s not been by herself”, he begrudgingly offered. “I wouldn’t want her out in the cold…so to speak” he said pointedly, a clear reference to that awful night one year before.

“Rest assured…that would never happen,” Bucky responded coolly. “But I understand your concern”.

You watched as the two men stared at each other, something resembling an understanding seemed to lay between them.

💔

You sat with Lou for as long as you could before the doctor shooed you and Bucky out, explaining Lou needed to rest. You promised you’d be back tomorrow.

“Oh hon…no. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me,” he teased playfully.

“Oh, stop that. You know I’m going to be here with balloons and grapes, the whole shebang…” you grinned, putting your coat on.

“Good to see you, Lou” Bucky chimed in as he shook Lou’s hand, “you’ll be fighting fit in no time”.

Unbeknownst to you as you were busy with your bag and coat, Lou used a finger to beckon Bucky to move closer. Bucky obliged, leaning forward so that Lou could speak to him. His words were hushed but clear.

“Hurt her again and I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Bad ticker or not. And I don’t care how many of your goons you set on me…”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his expression betrayed no emotion, “understood”.

You turned, smiling obliviously at Lou just as Bucky stood back up to full height and cleared his throat. They both smiled back.

“See you tomorrow, Lou”.

“See you, kiddo”.

You left the room with Bucky trailing behind. As a small sob escaped your throat, his hand pressed firmly against your back. A small reminder that he’d shown up for you. He was there.

💔

[parfaitblogs]

you know what would be cool? A blurb about Spencer and girly!reader who's a total nerd and loves ribbons, dresses and jewels. I HATE the stereotype of nerdy people who don't care much about how they look and dress in a ""weird"" way

spencer reid x girly!reader. fluff. 0.6k words. fem reader. reader likes harry potter (it's briefly mentioned. fuck jkr!)

a/n: so u mean penelope garcia?? kidding! idk how good i feel about this but i really wanted to get this request up sorry it’s so late :( thank you for the request ♡

spencer reid who did not expect to feel anything other than fleeting attraction for the pretty girl he had bumped into at the coffee shop closest to the quantico building. or to actually see you again other than that one moment in the midst of his running-late-to-work panic. only to have found out that the brand new member that aaron hotchner was introducing that day was none other than that same pretty girl. 

who had stammered out another apology — the stack of them were growing quite high for a man you had only met that morning — and introduced himself to you, properly. spencer reid who you could hear telling morgan to shut up, because "she might hear you!" because he was teasing spencer about the way he was looking at you and he feared the absolute worst when it came to girls like you. 

spencer reid who's nerves melted away the first time you contributed something to the team during a briefing — something about the statistics of the child abduction you all were currently investigating, that he was able to bounce off of and agree with. you both had to dumb down the words you had used and explain it to the rest of the team again. which he was used to. he didn't think he'd ever find someone who had to do that as well. 

who listened to you when you began to ramble about this book series you were reading and how cool it is because "it spans like three different continents and there's so many different sub-series but they all connect somehow!" and nobody else was listening. but he was.

spencer reid who began to accept your rides home after you had learned he usually catches the train, because you had discovered he lived only a block away from you. rides home that eventually turned into going over to each other's apartments after that one time he said he wanted to show you the hogwarts lego set because you mentioned liking the series. 

he stopped coming up with excuses to have you over the fourth time, and had simply said "i just want you to come over". that was the day you had discovered you think you might like him. 

spencer reid who let you sleep on his bed despite your own insistence when it hit two in the morning and you both had work the next morning and you were still at his apartment watching doctor who together (he was flabbergasted to learn you had never seen it). 

and he had woken you up the next morning and he was so cute and his hair was sticking up everywhere and he was kind of smiling at you and you confirmed with yourself that yes, you liked him. 

spencer reid who had properly asked you on a date after a long three months of you flirting with him because morgan had been seeing it and was getting sick of him doing nothing about it. who picked you up this time, and had laughed when you wound the windows of his car back up because "my hair will fly everywhere!" and "if i lose this bow, you're paying for a new one spencer reid!"

but he had also kind of forgotten how to talk, when he sat across from you at the kind of dingy italian restaurant (he didn't know where else to take you, okay?). because while he had fallen for a girl who shared so many interests with him he was sure she might be his carbon copy, he was also violently reminded (as he was every time he looked at you) how pretty you were. 

and spencer reid wishes he could describe you with any other word, because he's sure there's bigger and harder to say words out there that could describe you. but none of them made sense the way pretty did. 

you had questioned his silence and he had stammered as much as he did the day you met, and you smiled because if all it took was you dressing up to fluster him, you decided you'd do it a lot more often.

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Sam/Dean:

I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!

dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it

Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.

Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story

THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[pricegouge]

On Merit

exhusband!price x f!reader

cw: house fire and the aftermath of it. reader and john have kids. reader is implied to be an atheist. unedited because i don't want to look it over again. idk what this is and it's not going anywhere i just needed some comfort.

"i just thank god that the kids are okay."

an in-law of some fashion. a pesky one, perhaps an aunt. usually, you can remember her name by some clever rhyme you'd made up the day you'd gotten married, but today both the name and the rhyme escape you. 

"yeah, me too," you mutter. it's not that you don't mean it, but you've repeated the line so many times today it feels hollow and you can't muster the energy necessary to sell it, especially when the mention of your kids has your head on a swivel, making sure they're still corralled off by the picnic table. they are, of course - haven't moved since you'd last sought them out in a panic all of thirty seconds ago. your mother hovers over them, her hands stroking their hair, just as insistent and scared as your own which hang uselessly at your sides. you want to go to them, but the team of volunteer construction workers who have manifested from the aether need guidance on which parts of the house may contain salvageable heirlooms or sentimental storage. they've been dipping in and out of the wreckage all morning, confused worker bees pulling honey from the hive. a small collection of brightly colored totes decorates your lawn, fluorescent greens and reds standing out amongst the charred grass where more community and family members pick them apart, show you waterlogged decorations from a new years party four years ago and pester you to see if you want to bother keeping them. if you say no, they toss the waste into a large construction bag. mildly, it bothers you that they don't just throw them back in the house. clean up has to start somewhere, you suppose.

they found the majority of your pictures, waterlogged but whole. a gaggle of elderly women sit at picnic tables which weren't on your lawn this morning, pressing each photo between layers of shop rags. you want to bake them a cake, wonder if they'll accept a delivery pizza. wonder if you're lucky enough that your wallet is still in your car.

"only home twenty minutes… when i think what could have happened…" you close your eyes against the visions it invokes, tears collecting in your lashes. auntie balks when she notices, as if surprised her words could affect you. she pats your arm awkwardly. "well, everything happens for a reason. it's lucky you got home when you did."

it's the same line you've heard all morning, the same one you yourself had spouted to your mother much earlier when you'd admitted your kids had been home alone most the night. there was nothing wrong with that, your oldest - fifteen - plenty capable of making sure her younger sister ate and got to bed on time. which she'd done, both girls sleeping like logs when you'd gotten home. you don't want to think about what could have happened if you'd been any later, if one more patient had taken a turn, and all the words of comfort have been the same - thank god that wasn't the case. they mean well but the truth is you don't really believe in that kind of stuff so it's hard to get past the what ifs. you let it wash over you, like the runoff still flowing down the backslope of the lawn. ash and glass clouds the brook back there, a fine waiting to happen, probably. add it to the list of growing expenses your mind is too clouded to tally up right now.

smoke still wafts from the house - what remains of it. thin tendrils of ink leaking from the empty windows, their frames warped from the sagging weight of the structure and wreathed in melted plastic. john had insisted on the most expensive brand he could find, adamant that they were the most secure. but fire doesn't care much about double locks or casement, and it had rained little crystals of tempered glass down on you anyway. it crunches like gravel under aunties shoes as she drifts away from you now, neither of you able to offer the other the kind of comfort you each need. most of these people, they've shown up to make themselves feel better, to tell everyone how they'd helped the poor single mother in her time of need. but you don't act the part of the distraught, needy damsel and it's left a lot of them off-kilter, approaching you like a ticking bomb, a presumed-buried fuel source hidden under the rubble, waiting to catch heat. perhaps you are.

>>On my way.

you don't need to check your phone to verify the text because it's been burned into your retinas by now but you do anyway, just to be sure. just to do the mental math of how long ago it had been received. seven hours. wherever he'd been when he pinged your phone at two in the morning, when the firefighters had still been lingering, it must have been far. john and you may have had your differences over the years, but he had never and would never be the type to let you face a crisis alone. even now you can't help but reflect on the depth of his devotion, the implication that he'd been on a mission which he'd dropped to be with you even after learning his daughters were okay not lost on you. it's another mental image you have to fight off, the father of your children battle worn and weary when he checks his burner to find an update from kate. he hadn't bothered to relay his reply through her, had texted you directly because he still had your number memorized after all these years. it has you shaking your head, waspish when the volunteers bring you a bin of old gaming consoles, filled with water because the stupid plastic guitar controller was too tall to properly fashion the cover. you've no idea why it makes you angry, but you latch onto it with claws and teeth anyway because being mad at john is much safer than lingering on -. 

well, lingering on.

the construction crew tells you the kitchen won't collapse on you if you want to go in through the window there. you don't, but it gives you something to do, and you only realize once you're already in that it was perhaps the worst room to have chosen. 

debris carpets the floor at least two inches thick. you have a fleeting, wild notion to go swap your sneakers for boots before you remember, thoughts immediately flickering to wonder how long it will take for that instinct to die off. what strikes you first is how small the room seems with the roof sagging slightly and floor raised by detritus. soot stained and dark, it swallows the ample sunlight which streams through the empty window within inches, the further corners of the kitchen too dark to make out properly. it doesn't feel like your home, casts a certain sense of voyeurism over the growing feeling of loss. your kitchen, the life center of your home, nothing but charred ribs now.

the crew offers you a worn baseball cap and a pair of gloves when they see you flinch under the steady drip of water. you don't bat an eye as you pull them on, too focused on where you want to begin and if you'll get sepsis for your troubles.

you can't open the fridge because it's melted too much but the cabinets are all mostly functional, if unrecognizable. you don't dare open the higher ones because the way they hang off-kilter makes you nervous but the lower ones housed the bake ware anyway, the morbid curiosity to see if your pyrex finally shattered too hard to resist. 

turns out those things really can take the heat.

it's hard to stop once you've started, almost cathartic - a checklist of all the items you've forgotten you owned being crossed out as you confirm you no longer have them. it's an odd sort of soothing, a finger in a bullet hole to stem the blood loss. it will be nice not to have to wonder if anything could have been salvageable when you remember them later. 

"is my pie still in the oven?"

you don't bother turning, your eldest's blithe sense of humor about the whole affair recognizable even without looking. "you shouldn't be here," you remind her, opening up a deep drawer to find a collection of snack sized crisp bags floating in dirty water. if you weren't so agitated, it would make you laugh, the way they bob like apples, inviting you to try your luck.

"neither should you," she counters. "is my pie still in the oven? i worked so hard on it."

"what pie?" you ask, carefully closing the drawer, as if spilling more water on the floor could actually matter.

"i made a pie last night! it turned out pretty good, i think. was excited to have you try it."

you blink, finally turning to face her. "you made a pie?"

she nods, still oddly cheerful. she has been all day, a solid rock you're refusing to lean on because you want her to know she can cry, that she doesn't need to do this. "yeah, pumpkin. our fav," she reminds you.

you hide the sudden surge of tears by turning away from her and carefully opening the oven. the glass has been blown, shards thumping to the soggy floor as the door tilts. you can't help but laugh at what you find inside, the double tins still fully functional, a deep dish pie standing tall and proud in their confines. it resembles a charred souffle more than a pie when you pull it out, the top puffed up and blackened but refusing to sink into the soaked crust. a perfect slice has been cut from it already, the pie likely having been put back just to keep it warm a little longer. waiting on you. out of instinct, you check to make sure the oven had been switched off though the investigator already said everything was caused by the line outside. 

thankfully your daughter doesn't catch your doubt, too busy fawning over how perversely good her pie still looks. "i'm so proud of it," she declares, taking the dish from you.

you can't help but laugh. "you should offer it to the ladies sorting the pictures out there, in thanks."

"oh my god, you're right!" she cheers, and then nearly throws her precious pie down the bank when she turns away. "dad!" she shrieks, deciding to unload it on the window sill instead. like a dark reimagining of vintage americana.

john's by her side in a heartbeat, pulling her to him with a strong arm. in his other he still holds your youngest because that's what he's used to doing, nevermind the fact that she's twelve now. you don't think you've ever seen him so visibly shaken, mustache twitching as he holds your daughters close. he never bothered to change out of his field gear - vest stripped, but empty holsters still hanging from his stained cargos because those require a bit more care, fine motor control he probably couldn't manage. his hands are heavy on the crowns of your daughters heads, whatever words he whispers to them buried there too. you watch them with your heart in your throat, your agitation returning at the sight of him, the urge to chew your nails completely off only cowed by the appearance of soot on your gloves and the sweet smell of chemically loaded water and smoke which hangs around you like perfume. you'll have to take a bite out of him instead, an instinct that only grows when he spots you in the kitchen, anger clouding the fear in his gaze.

"sweetheart, get out of there."

you ignore him. "where were you?"

john doesn't even blink, evidently having been expecting this reaction. he should have, you remember. the same fight as always. "i was on miss -."

"i don't care." you turn back toward the room, as if to storm away, but a sink hole lays before you and despite everything, you still have enough sense about you to stay put.

it's the only opportunity he needs, john's heavy boots thudding behind you as he pulls himself up through the window. "honey, come here," he says, but he doesn't give you the chance, coming up behind you to pull you around.

you're folded in his arms before you can even pitch a fit about it, the low stream of anger you're spewing swallowed up somewhere in the stiff folds of his button up. you don't realize your breaths are coming in heaving gasps until his arms are shaking with it, his bicep swelling in your periphery just to drop suddenly out of your field of view every time you gasp for breath. john doesn't say much - or maybe he says too much, voice a steady low hum you feel in his chest more than you register in your ear. there's no helping the way you cling to him, anger dissipating as quickly as it built. john's solid and warm against you, just as soft for you as he's always been. he smells like sweat and gunpowder, the subtle scent of the expensive cigars he never finishes. it's a smell you miss always, but especially today, when the cloying scent of smoke and pfas water have felt near to suffocating you all morning.

john waits until your anger has been guttered before guiding you outside, his palm heavy on your back. he's subtle about the way he pulls another man's cap off your head, distracting you with questions about what happened, and, why is his aunt here. you pretend not to notice, stuck between an odd sense of endearment you really don't have time for and an urge to encourage him you decide to reanalyze when you're not homeless and desperate for comfort in whatever form it comes.

"the wind - last night. inspector says the tree out front must've dropped a limb on the line to the house."

"told you to let me cut it down," john mutters and you roll your eyes at him, too tired to fight now that he's calmed you down once already.

"shut up, you can blame me for this later -."

"honey, that's not -."

"look at this. you won't believe this. that line - when it split - it fucking wrapped itself around the wood stove exhaust. like, five times! look!" he's guided you back to the front of the house by now and you drag him to the freak display, the cable indeed having somehow managed to fasten itself to the exhaust while it was hissing and spitting, dangling from your home. john frowns at it, stroking his mustache in thought. "freak fucking accident," you continue, "like, what are the odds of that?"

john doesn't have an answer. "you were home?"

your breath catches when you reply, voice a low croak. john's hand is on your back in a second, soothing broad circles across your tense shoulders. "only just. the girls were asleep. i called up to them to get out of the house but i tried to put the fire out first. grabbed the hose. thank god i realized it was electrical before i ..." you babble on, for the first time able to lay your anxieties at someone else's feet. "when i went back inside, the girls were still upstairs i -." you cut yourself off, sobbing as you remember storming into your eldest's just in time to see the window shatter across her bed. you'd gotten everyone out in time but it was so close and you were so scared and it was just you and -.

"it's okay, sweetheart," john murmurs, pulling you close again. his next words are low, close to your ear. just for you "you did such a good job, mama. so proud of you."

time distorts a little after that. exhaustion creeps up on you, sinks its hooks in when you let it. john takes over, directing the crews with practiced ease and shaking hands in gratitude everywhere he goes. he even manages to keep his aunt away from you, though you spot her circling like a vulture now that she sees your walls have weakened.

you sit with the girls, looking over the salvaged goods with a sort of detached irreverence. it's strange, the anxiety of knowing you have nothing left to your name combined with the way you simply don't want to keep any of the items they bring for your inspection. the photos survived, the rest is replaceable. 

but then john himself is bringing a soggy box over, only one corner of the white cardboard singed. you leap when to your feet when you recognize the careful script of the logo on the top, a local formal shop. 

"no way," you breathe as you rip the display box from his hands, turning until you can see for yourself that the plastic casing hasn't melted, that your wedding dress is still mostly white and soot-free.

"didn't know you kept this," john mutters but you're barely listening, ripping the box open like a kid at christmas. your mom is there suddenly, helping you to keep the dress off the ground as you unfold it to check for charring, and then the gaggle of biddies are there too, laying out construction bags on the lawn for you to drape it across to keep it clean. the strangest bridal party ever assembled.

you have high hopes until you get it turned over, the train discolored and sodden from where all the water had pooled in the box. tears come unbidden to your eyes as you mourn the loss of your beautiful dress - the one memento you hadn't been able to bear parting with after the divorce. someone's hands are on you, perhaps your moms, gentle and hesitant. whoever it is they shush your tears as you sob about it not being fair, how you just want it all back.

you're not sure which you mean. 

but the hands are heavier on you now, more confident. it's not your mother's voice in your ear, quiet shushing turning to gravelly words. oh, honey, you never lost it. it's okay, we'll get it all back. 

i'll get you a new one.

divider by @/rookthornesartistry

[seat-safety-switch]

Glues! You might not be aware of it, but adhesives rule the world around you. No matter what two objects you want to stick together, some egghead in a chemistry lab has worked out an elaborate concoction that will do so. Now you just need to figure out which one it is, and also read some instructions for the first time in your life.

I've never liked glues, probably because of the aforementioned "read the instructions" thing. They either set too fast or not at all, and they make a sticky mess when you knock them over onto your precariously-balanced workbench full of other failed projects. For me, the correct fastener was a bolt, or a rivet, or if you put a gun to my head some kind of stupid finger-pinching clippy thing that would work twice and then break forever.

Nowadays, things are going in a different direction. Fasteners vibrate and come loose. Bolts would rather not stay bolted, if it's all the same to you, pip pip cheerio, sorry about your axle there chap. They also cost money, which bosses don't like. So, automakers and engineers use more glues. Glob goes here, then job goes here. This means that, whenever something else they make breaks, you're going to be spending all afternoon slowly heating up and forcing apart some sticky mess. As a cool bonus, it will also fill your work area with deadly fumes.

What finally turned me in favour of glue? The local autobody shop had to throw out a whole bunch of autobody epoxy. This stuff is hyper-sticky, meant to glue whole cars together. All I had to do was pour it into their dumpster, and then back my rusty shitbox of a daily driver in there. Sealed up all the rust holes, and probably permanently entombed some of the trunk mice in there as well. No more wet feet! No more poop in the glovebox!

Sure, when it comes time to change the rear tires, it's going to kinda suck to get them off the wheel. Hey, wait, when they pop a hole in them I can probably just fill them up with glue too! What idiot ever thought to put air in tires in the first place? Get with the modern era of industrial adhesives, suckers.

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart pt. 2.5

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 1.2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: dealer! boxer!ellie, weed, alcohol,

summary: ellie gets your phone number.

author notes: hi just something small for a filler, setting up for the next part, hoping to have it posted up friday the 1st! thank you for reading! pls reblog, comment, or like! i love the support, and thank you for over 1000 likes and 100 followers!! it’s a great feeling

italic = ellie and bold = reader

part 2.5 | part 3

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

its been a week and a half since you last saw her when she drove you home from the match in her old busted truck. thoughts of her plagued your mind all week. you wondered if she was working. you wondered if she was out with friends. you wondered if she was thinking about you. she is but you don’t know that. you’re not aware she’s thinking of you also. thinking of the way the smell of strawberries stained her car after you left. thinking of the way you said you like it when she calls you sweetheart.

both of you wonder when the next time you’ll see each other is.

its a wednesday afternoon, you’re currently sitting on the couch with dina. she’s the only friend you have down here so far and its not weird that she’s dating your brother. she has come over a bunch, helping you shop, getting little things for your apartment, watching movies and of course, getting high. which is exactly what you’re doing right now. you both sat on your old lumpy couch and watched the iron man series that you had on dvd, not paying to much attention to the tv, but rather your conversion.

“so no luck still? you should just come work with me at the farm, i mean i love it- the horse shit not so much.” dina exclaimed.

“yeah its like no one is hiring, i may have to take you up on that, i still wanna keep looking though, maybe something will come along.” you told her.

“yeah avoid horse shit as long as you can, something will come along don’t worry!” she said trying to make you feel better knowing you’re stressed. but at the end of the day, you need something to fill your time besides thinking of the boxer that drove you home.

you guys just sat and talked then eventually as the credits rolled for the last movie, you got up and started to clean up the mess from the pizza you ordered earlier. after you went to the kitchen and put the plates in the sink, you grabbed the bottle of wine and two glasses and made your way back to dina still in the living room. you hold it up to her and with the look on her face, you knew she was thinking the same thing.

by the third bottle, it was 10pm and you’ve run out of weed and not much wine left but you both are feeling great, laughing and giggling like kids. its nice to have a friend you thought.

“what are you doing friday night?” she questioned.

you responded to her, “probably exactly what im doing right now” you both laughed.

“well there’s another match this weekend, me and jesse are going if you want to come along again, ellie will be there too.” she replied. you couldn’t hide the smile on your face when she said her name.

“woah! what’s with the smiling and the blushing…” she joked asking. you didn’t tell either of them what happened that night at the first match. from outside or inside, they assumed you both got an uber and you didn’t tell them any differently.

“nothing, i just thought she was nice thats all.” you said trying not make any signs of anything more.

“oh she is!,” dina started, “well maybe not at first but once you get to know her, we’ve been friends for years now,” she laughed and kept going, “she fights at the gym sometimes, but she works there too, its a good hang out space plus cheap drinks. plus she’s bringing us the restock.” she finished as she picked up her weed jar.

“oh you get it from her?” you inquired, thinking back to the faint smell of weed in her car when she drove you home.

“yeah she’s got good stuff and nice deals, ugh its great, always easier to get it from someone you know,” she ended. you thought about asking her if you could tell her to get you some to and for some other non-obvious reason but she beat you to it.

“ill send her your number and she’ll text you.” she said to you as she pulled out her phone and sent a message. a few moments later, her phone rang and she answered, it was jesse waiting outside for her so she gave you a hug and grabbed her stuff and you walked her to the door.

you locked it before you turned around to sit back down on the couch, grabbed the wine glass and poured the last bit in your cup, you were still drunk and definitely feeling it. you heard your phone buzz and you picked it up, answering the call, not paying attention, thinking it was dina but the voice surprised you.

hey sweetheart

you didn’t expect her to call so soon, you haven’t even given yourself a moment to think about what to say beforehand. you weren’t prepared for this. you feel yourself getting nervous over the girl you only met last week but you just cant help it. she’s been on your mind since you met her.

hi ellie

dina sent me your number i hope that’s okay

yes she said she was going to

well in that case, she said you needed to buy

yeah we managed to smoke up all her stash and i haven’t gotten any since i moved here, probably cause i didn’t know where to get it

well no worries, i’ve got everything you need sweetheart.

thank you ellie, you said smiling but she couldn’t see you through the phone, you wondered what she’d think if she saw how red your face was right now.

you can call me el sweetheart, no need to be so formal.

she laughed through the phone, and then asked if you were coming to the gym on friday with your brother and dina.

they invited me but i hadn’t thought about it yet, not wanting to sound too eager about the potential thought of seeing her on friday.

mhm- well you should, we’re just gonna have some drinks and chill so nothing crazy. but i will have the weed for you then if that peaks your interest.

bribing me with drugs?, you laugh into the phone and she laughs with you.

if that’s how you want to put it sweetheart, sure

you smiled into the phone, not even sure how to respond to that before becoming flustered, before you continued,

i guess we’ll just have to wait and see then…

yeah i guess we will… goodnight sweetheart.

that was the last thing she said before she hung up and you sat staring back at a black screen. thinking that now she has your number and you have hers.

it’s almost 11 now as you brush your teeth, throw on a t shirt and cuddle up in bed. falling asleep to the thoughts of how friday was going to go when you finally saw her again.

[hikari-kaitou]

This is Phoenix and Edgeworth's profiles as imagined by character designer Ms. Suekane. We got quite different answers from her compared to Takumi and the others!!

Phoenix's profile

Birthday: Maybe a Virgo? I kinda get the feeling he was born in September.

Blood type: O type. His attitude towards Maya and his fairly easygoing nature give me that impression.

Birthplace: Saitama, maybe? It's close to Tokyo but not on the same level because it's more rural. Maybe Saitama or Chiba or Ibaraki? But Takumi-san is from Saitama? Well, let's go with Saitama, then.

Non-work clothes: A hoodie. I want Phoenix to like wearing hoodies (lol). I can't think of anything else that would suit him. On the bottom, he'd wear cargo pants.

Living situation: He lives at his office. He's got a locker there where he keeps blankets and stuff to sleep on.

On his days off: He does nothing. He kinda just spaces out in the morning, then when noon comes he eats lunch and watches TV. When evening comes, he eats dinner, watches more TV, bathes, and sleeps. But if someone invites him out then he'll go.

Hobbies: Video games and stuff. Like fighting games (lol). I can see him with his controller going "tap tap tap tap" and smashing out combos. He might also play Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy or those types of games.

Favorite food: He's omnivorous. He'll eat whatever but he's kinda happy when there's meat in it. He loves meat.

Luxury foods: Diet cola. Beef jerky would be fine too (lol). He drinks alcohol but it doesn't show on his face much. Not beer, but like Japanese hot sake (lol)

Sports: Swimming. In general he's useless at sports but he'd be like "swimming is the only thing I'm good at." He seems like he'd get a little excited while talking about swimming.

Music: He doesn't listen to music. He'll go to karaoke if someone brings him, though.

Cellphone: He updates it fairly regularly, but because he always waits for the price to go down, he always ends up with one that's two models behind (lol).

His part time job in college: Something loose, because he doesn't commit himself to things… Like maybe he worked at a convenience store.

His type: I feel like he dreams about someone with abstract qualities like being "kind" or "domestic". Just thinking about those words gets him all starry-eyed and sighing (lol).

Edgeworth's profile

Birthday: He's an Aries, which means he was born on April 2nd or later. Let's go with April 2nd (lol).

Blood type: Type AB, because I feel like his emotions kinda have peaks and valleys.

Birthplace: Chiba. At first I thought Ace Attorney took place in Soga (a city in Chiba Prefecture).

Non-work clothes: A jacket, but not like a suit jacket, more like a casual one. Like from Paul Smith or something.

Living situation: A normal apartment. A lot of his furniture is Japanese handicraft stuff, and I feel like he'd put a lot of money into making his place feel Japanese.

On his days off: He goes shopping or on walks and has an elegant lunch. If he drives a car, it would be a silver one (lol).

Hobbies: Collecting western antiques and Japanese handicrafts.

Favorite food: Taro and meat soup (imoni). He has a favorite deli in his neighborhood that makes it.

Luxury foods: Whiskey. He enjoys it on the rocks.

Sports: He used to play soccer, but now he does weight training. He's got a defined six-pack.

Music: jazz. He listens to it while drinking his whiskey. Eminem fills him with rage.

Cellphone: A normal one. He uses his computer to send emails so he really only uses it to talk.

His part time job in college: Administrative assistant. He'd help with paperwork only when the office was really busy.

His type: Someone who doesn't lie to him. I have nothing in particular to add to that.

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader Part 5

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

There was a pretty decent break between Brazil and Las Vegas, you spend the first week with Geri and Christian and their kids. You'd had a blast riding their horses, going for bike rides and lots of baking.

They of course let you stay with them in the spare bedroom, you went on a massive shopping spree with Geri getting some new clothes as you hadn't gone home and talked about everything you normally would with Suzie. You couldn't lie, you really missed her, especially the hugs she gave you.

However on the weekend before Vegas, Lewis had texted you seeing if you'd wanted to stay with him in Las Vegas for a bit. Lewis had known you since 2009, you were 9 years old. You always came to as many race weekends as you could, obsessed with F1 as much as your dad. You loved the fast cars and the smell of the fuel.

Here was were you were introduced to Suzie, it was perfect time really. You were a 9 year old girl, about to enter here teen years without a mother figure. And Suzie and you, got on like two peas in a pod.

In 2012 when he became the executive director in Williams you travelled with him. Your mum didn't want anything to do with you, so that left you to be home school. It wasn't easy in Williams, they were tight on money and resources despite Toto's financial contributions to the team and no-body had time for you it seemed.

The next year when your dad moved to Mercedes, that had a slightly bigger budget and more time around the paddock was when it became easier.

The engineers helped you with your math's and science while marketing and legal would help you with your English. That's where your love of engineering came from.

Lewis would often stay with you, he and Nico were like brothers and they couldn't help but see you like a little sister with the relentless teasing they put you through.

As you got older, Toto paid for you to have an online tutor so you could sit your GCSE's at some point. 2016 was probably the worst year you had on record apart from everything that's happened in 2023.

You could tell that when they started to compete for the championship in 2014 that things were getting tense between them, they tried to keep it to themselves but you could tell with the post race interviews and how they didn't want to hang out as much together with you.

But in 2016, when Nico won and their friendship had pretty much crumbled as far as it could you, you were also sitting those GCSE's and it was a really tough year for you. Lewis and Nico now spoke to you separately, their sides of the garage never crossing over like they used to.

So you not only had the stress of your GCSE's, the stress of your two role models no longer talking and with that your own childhood best friend cutting you off because of how much you travelled and your commitments not being strong enough. And to top it of Nico was confirmed to be leaving the sport which would mean you wouldn't see him as often.

However, despite everything that went on you came out with some really good grades, thanks to Lewis and his help when it come to studying.

You actually met George the year after when he became a junior driver for Mercedes. You had just turned 17 and he was 20 and part way working his way up through the feeder series into Formula One.

You actually had a crush on George all the way back then, Lewis convinced you it was just a silly little school girl crush you'd soon get over and motorsport men were a walking red flag. Which you found out was true with your first heartbreak when you dated an F2 driver that was the same age as you. You dad of course was hesitant at first, and he was right to be. He cheated on you with one of the insta models 7 months into your relationship.

Lewis did a lot for you and you guys were close, so you almost felt like you couldn't say no even though you didn't want to anyway.

You got the first flight you could out to his LA mansion.

"Hello" he greeted you as you'd found him in the airport with his security. There was of course Paps so it was only a short amount of time before people knew you were here with Lewis.

He drove the pair of you back to his LA home, you guys spent the rest of the week surfing, go-karting and walking Roscoe. Everyone knew you were here by now so you posted a photo dump on the Wednesday to Instagram, photos of everything you guys had been up to.

Everyone in the comments was so excited that big brother Lewis was back.

"So, I think now that we've had some time to chill out we should talk about the serious matters on the table" Lewis says as he spoons some of the vegan dish his private chef had made you guys.

"Mmmm?" you hum as you gobble more of the delightful food down.

"I miss you in the Mercedes Garage and the red bull top doesn't suit you" he says making your head whip to the side.

"Excuse me!" you nearly choke on your food.

"Look, I know what Toto and George did was foul... and others have made it into this whole dramatic show, but I miss teasing you in the garage and I miss you telling the engineers something was wrong and trying not to laugh! I miss you! Everyone does, George, Toto, Suz, all the hospitality and mechanics and the engineers!" he offers looking at you.

"I'm not coming back to Mercedes Lew, I've found my place in Red Bull, they've even let me help on the 2024 car! My dad turned me down straight away when i asked, they trust me there and they like my ideas! I'll talk to both of them okay, I promise but Red Bull stuck their neck out for me hiring me... so I owe them!" you admit, knowing Red Bull helped you a lot, as much as you'd helped them.

"I know I know, but just talk to them soon. They are both suffering and they regret what they did!"

You drove in Lewis car all the way to Nevada. It was only a 4 hour drive where you guys did make stops along the way. You guy's parted ways as you got there. He needed to be present for media duties and you had to be with Red Bull making sure the car was up to standard.

You checked in with everyone you hadn't seen for the two week gap, checking in with the mechanics making sure they though the car was looking okay after the race.

And before you knew it Max was coming out of FP1 in 4th, FP2 in 6th and FP3 in 4th. It was a new track and everyone was getting used to the it and how the car performed on it. In Practices it was more for the driver to get the feel for the car.

Max qualified P3, but because Carlos had to take a 10 place grid penalty he was moved up to P2. He was on the front line next to Charles Leclerc and if he got a good start he could finish again P1.

Vegas was a stressful race for everyone. Charles and his Ferrari was made for the layout of this street circuit it seemed. Lando had a really bad crash which had everyone worried.

Ferrari, once again fucked up their strategy as you called Max to box when the safety car was released. Charles had only pitted a few laps prior. Now Max and Sergio were on the fresher tires.

"Warm those tires up Max then when DRS is available go for that overtake on Turn 3 for P1" you advise as he rolls out of the pits behind the safety car that Charles was already following.

Eventually you had both Red Bulls in the front ready for a 1-2 podium. But on the final lap Charles went for the overtake on Sergio and broke the Red Bulls up, there was no way he'd catch up with Max but you told him to hold his position.

Again Max Verstappen had one his 18th race of the season and you'd been his race engineer for a whole new track. He'd pulled you into a massive hug, along with Christian who was impressed with how quickly you were adapting to the new role.

"Amazing driver guys! Straight to Abu Dhabi now!" Christian grins, nothing could now ruin his mood. Max had been confirmed Champion of the World a few races back but Red Bull still wanted to prove they were winners.

And that you did, you went to Abu Dhabi and one again by a landslide. You all celebrated the end of the season and Max asked you to come up on the podium with him again. However, George had come P3. so you were up on the Podium with him and Charles too.

The champagne was brought out and all the guys showered each other before coming over to you. They soaked you with the rest of the champagne the dark team gear sticking to your skin.

"Omg" you squeal as someone pulls back your top and dumps some of their champagne down your back. You swivel round to see George. Everything is so loud around you right now. Charles and Max are off celebrating the podium together a little further away from the pair of you now.

"George" you say looking up at him and he sheepishly takes a step back.

"George, no! I'm sorry I didn't speak to you sooner" you say looking at him, only for his head to cock to the side where he couldn't here you.

"What?" he shouts coming closer.

You lean in right up to his ear so that he can actually here you.

"I'm sorry I ignored you for so long. I was being childish. Lewis... Lewis talked some sense into me." you say.

"You-" he starts confused. He was the one that owed you an apology not the other way around.

"Y/N listen to me. Meet me tonight and we will talk about everything I promise!" he shouts making you able to hear him over the crowd.

"Okay!" you nod, before turning around and the Red Bull team all cheer as you hold up the trophy.

"Oh and George, Congrats of P3!" you grin, before joining Max and Charles.

Maybe it was time for you to talk it out. Maybe even to reach out to your dad! Lewis was as always right!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane

[rubywonu]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱

“i've got some shit i should mention, pretend my ego is dying, ask me if i love attention, and I'll say no, but i'm lying”

summary: in which seungcheol missed on countless important event with you and you decided it was time for confrontation.

pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst to fluff, not mentioned but established idol!au

warnings: arguments, swear words.

w/c: 2.7k

nia’s notes: i don’t know what is just wrote. song is loved by b.i

it was your birthday and the person you wanted to celebrate it with was nowhere to be found. it was a small get-together, consisting of a few of your friends and your boyfriend, who was not there. 

you checked your messages and you were a bit let down when the message wasn't seen. it was like seungcheol was ghosting you. for the past few days, your boyfriend was always at his studio. seungcheol would disappear way before you would wake up and return hours past midnight. for some time, you wondered if he was even coming home. 

for the whole party, you were glued to your phone hoping cheol messaged you back or saw your message, but each time you were disappointed. 

you tried to stay alive and cheerful for your party but it was hard to do so. by the time your friends left, you were angry and sad. each year you and seungcheol would stay up till midnight and write letters to each other for your birthday. it was a stupid tradition but it kept your love alive and this year, you were questioning if it would happen. 

you sat down on the couch, after bidding your friends goodbye and you checked your phone, again. you let out a long sigh as you were let down, once again. it was funny to you when you remembered all the other times you were disappointed by your boyfriend. 

for the past few weeks, you and seungcheol were supposed to go on dates, and each time, cheol canceled last minute with the same excuse, i'm stuck in the studio, sorry. 

this time you were sure you weren't going to let it happen again. so with a bold choice in your mind, you changed your clothes, to one of cheol's sweatshirts and a sweatpant from your closet. you walked over to the counter, trying to find your car keys. you smacked your head slightly when you realized that your car was at the repair shop. it looked like you had to walk to the building, it wasn't far so you had no problem with it. 

so you locked the door to your apartment and walked out of your house, slightly regretting not wearing a jacket. the wind was chilly and it burned when it touched your face. you winced as you wrapped your hands around you, you tried to speed walk to the building when you saw the storm clouds coming over in your direction. 

in a matter of a few minutes, you reach the company and you let your shoulders relax at the heat inside. you smiled at the receptionist when you walked over to the elevator. 

you pressed the floor button and waited to arrive. the ding snapped out out of your thoughts and made your way to the studio room where your boyfriend would be.  

you opened the door a little bit, in hopes of surprising seungcheol. "cheol." you called out and the man in front of you snapped his head to meet you. you expected him to be happy maybe even a little glad, but not in a million years did you expect seungcheol to be angry. 

"what are you doing here?" seungcheol stood up from his seat. he looked stressed out and it worried you. you walked inside and closed the door behind you. it the light, you were able to look at him more clearly and you were concerned. the lack of sleep was evident on his face, dark circles were present under his eyes. 

"well, i got worried when you didn't show up at home, so i decided to stop by." you smiled trying to relax your boyfriend, it was clear to say you did quite the opposite. 

"you don't have to come here, go home, it'll take me a few more hours." you were shocked at his words. 

"what do you mean a few more hours? cheol what about our tradition?" you asked feeling heartbroken at the behaviour your boyfriend was showing you. 

"i don't have time for that, yn. my work is more important." if seungcheol was awake, he was sure he wouldn't say the things he was about to.  

you were taken aback at his cold tone and even more when cheol sat down at this desk, continuing his work. "what are you saying? do you mean it?" 

"yes. yes, i mean it, now get out." the harsh words that came out of seungcheol's mouth felt like a knife pushing through your heart. 

"seungcheol, you need sleep and food, come on let's go home." you walked over to your boyfriend, and gently put your hand on his arm. that seemed to piss him off more. 

"i need to complete this, yn. either leave by yourself or i'll do it." seungcheol was sleepy, hungry, and drained. he wasn't in his right mind and each word he said proved exactly that. 

"what? do you realize what you're saying?" you were angry, you were pissed at the way he was speaking towards you. 

"yn, i don't have time for you or your petty fights, just leave." seungcheol rubbed his hands over his face while he pleaded with you. 

you didn't know when but a lone tear cascaded down your eye. you were hurt beyond explanation. "what?" each time seungcheol said a word, your heart cracked and bled in despair. 

"leave, yn!" you flinched at the intensity of his voice and moved back. "god, you're so needy, it's annoying." cheol mumbled as he went back to his laptop. you walked away from him and towards the door, trying to contain your tears. you couldn't believe that the mouth that whispered praises and confessions was leaving you in pain, for the first time choi seungcheol made you cry, no he made you sob. 

you slammed the door behind you and quickly walked outside the building, in the elevator you could feel yourself breaking down, you put your hand on your mouth, trying to soften your sobs, but it didn't work. without looking back, you excited the building, regretting that decision when you felt the big droplets of water fall on you, it was raining. 

you needed shelter but there was no way you were going back into the building, especially after what had just happened. so you put your head down and slowly made your way back to your house, being extremely careful to not slip at any given moment. 

before you stormed out of the hybe building, someone saw you leave and was very concerned about your condition. it was obvious for him to realize the culprit of this incident. so he walked over to the elevator, making his way over to seungcheol's studio. 

he rushed over and opened the door, confusion visible on his face. "seungcheol." the mentioned man turned around and he became more annoyed. sure, seungcheol regretted what he said to you, but working on a time crunch can do that to people, it didn't look like his fault. "why did yn leave, crying, no seungcheol, she was sobbing, why?" 

"i do not want to deal with your bullshit as well, jeonghan just leave." seungcheol regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, even more, when he saw the anger displayed on jeonghan's face. 

jeonghan was like a brother to you, and the both of you became extremely close when you and seungcheol started dating, you became closer with han. 

"shut up and listen to me." jeonghan started. "what did you do for yn, one of the happiest people on the face of this planet, sob while leaving the building. and before you ask me questions like how i know, or something stupid like that just remember that you promised to not make her cry." 

jeonghan didn't know what he was saying but he kept on going before falling on the couch in exhaustion. on the other hand, seungcheol remained silent. he didn't realize the gravity of the situation until jeonghan screamed at him. 

each word came back to haunt him, he could visualize the perfect smile on your beautiful fade into a gradient of hurt and sadness. seungcheol sat there wanting to take back everything he said that hurt you in any form but that wasn't possible. seungcheol had hurt you beyond description and oh boy, did he feel disappointment rush through his blood. 

it didn't prepare him for what he was about to hear though. "gosh, i do hope yn reached home safe, it's pouring real bad." he heard jeonghan mutter and seungcheol felt his heart drop. his eyes were wide and his stance was ready to sprint but he couldn't move. "what?" 

"it's raining outside, i hope yn can see anything from the car." once again, seungcheol felt his world stop spinning. 

"yn's car is at the repair shop." seungcheol said slowly as the realization hit him. he saw jeonghan turn to him and ask him to repeat himself. "yn doesn't have her car." 

this was the last straw, before completing his sentence, seungcheol ran out of the room, and completely ignored jeonghan's call behind him to grab a jacket. but he didn't care, all he cared about was you and he hurt you.

seungcheol spammed the elevator call button, furiously. he was angry at himself, angry at the world, he was angry at everything and everyone but you. 

"fuck!" seungcheol screamed and rushed over to the stairs. he started to rapidly climb down the stairs. he was on the higher floors but he did not care at all.

once he reached the base of the stairs, he slammed open the door and ran out of the building, not minding the glances he received while doing so. 

the rain looked worse than jeonghan made it seem, big droplets were clouding his vision but he moved on. seungcheol slowly started to walk into the rain while scouting all his sides in hopes of finding you. 

he saw a small figure pushing through the cold rain and he immediately knew it was you by the familiar sweatshirt. and then seungcheol ran, he ran for his life. he didn't care about the slipperiness of the ground and he didn't care when the rain got harder, the only thing he cared for you so he ran in search of your warm body. 

he was right behind you now, and he grabbed your arm, regretting it as soon as he saw you flinch at the touch. "yn, it's me." seungcheol spoke with a soft voice and he begged the gods for you to be alright with his presence, but it looked like his prayers were skipped. 

you pulled your hand away and continued to walk away, leaving seungcheol's heart to shatter. "get away from me." 

"yn, listen to me, please." seungcheol didn't give up just yet, he ran in front of you and held you by your shoulders, trying to be as gentle as possible. "let's just go back to the studio, i promise we'll talk there." 

"you don't care about me, did you forget about it already?" you moved away from your boyfriend and walked away from him, again. 

"what do you mean?" you turned around at seungcheol's ridiculous statement and scoffed, anger seeping into your face. 

"'what do you mean?' are you crazy choi seungcheol." cheol flinched at you calling him his full name, ever since the both of you started dating, he had never heard his name come out of your mouth like that, and boy did it hurt. 

"first of all, you gave up on our tradition, you know how much it means to me but you left that. then, you disregarded me, seungcheol. i was worried about you and what did you do? you screamed at me, telling me to leave you alone and as if that's not bad enough you proceeded to call me clingy and needy, you said you were annoyed by my actions. since when did my care and love for you turn annoying? i was looking out for you, but you took my heart and broke it." 

seungcheol didn't realize how much he messed up until he heard your feelings and regret swarmed his whole body. 

"and you did it all on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, my birthday." your voice cracked and tears struck down your face. 

realization came sticking to cheol as he stood there in shock. he forgot about it because of his hard schedule, he forgot your birthday. you turned around, trying you hide your crying face. 

behind you, seungcheol pondered at his bad decisions. he hated himself, he hated the way he made you feel, and he hated to be the reason for your sadness. 

for the past month, you and seungcheol had talked about all the things the both of you wanted to do for your birthday and they were in contrast to what was actually happening. what was supposed to be a day filled with loving you turned into a day where your relationship was in danger. 

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry." seungcheol's soft voice behind you only made you cry harder. you turned around, and the sight left you speechless. 

seungcheol was on his knees, he was crying. "i'm so sorry, yn." the rain and your boyfriend's harsh sobs were the only things you could hear, apart from your own cries. 

no matter how angry you were with seungcheol, it pained for you to see a man so strong break down in tears while on his knees. you joined him on the floor, and the both of you cried while holding each other in the rain, gaining warmth from the other. 

"im so sorry, im so sorry for everything i did. im so sorry for the way i spoke to you, you didn't deserve it. you were just trying to be a good girlfriend but i screamed at you, i'm so sorry. please forgive me, don't leave me, yn, please." 

seungcheol's ramble made you cry harder, you pulled away from him and grabbed his face, making him look at you. "i'm not going to leave you, don't worry." you go up and pulled seungcheol up as well. "let's go home and talk there." 

the both of you walked hand in hand in silence, wiping the tears on the way, the rain washing away your tears and replacing them with a cloud of sadness. when you reached home, without talking you and seungcheol walked into separate bathrooms to clean up. it was obvious that both of you wanted to talk about it but the wound was too fresh. 

you finished your shower and dried your hair, you were currently walking to the guest bedroom where seungcheol was cleaning up. you opened the door and seungcheol was on the bed, the room was dark, and he was drying his hair. you heard a sniffle and it damaged you. 

you made your way in front of your seungcheol grabbed the towel without saying anything and proceeded to rub his hair. as you did this, seungcheol's tears only started to come out faster. 

you dropped the towel on the bed and placed your hand on his face, seungcheol leaning into it. you swiped your finger under his eyes and removed his tears. the action only seemed to make him cry more. 

"i'm so sorry." you pulled him into a hug, and seungcheol immediately responded by placing his hands around your waist and pulling you in as close as possible. 

"it's okay baby, i didn't like it at all but i understand where it came from, so i forgive you. just promise not to do that again." seungcheol's eyes snapped open no light up at your words. 

"thank you, i promise to never make you cry ever again. i'll cancel all my plans for the next week, it'll be you and me, that's it." seungcheol stood up and held your waist, your hands immediately going to his neck. you smiled at his enthusiasm and it was then you realized he was sincere. the both of you kissed, leaving the troubles of the day to be washed away by the rain, and you and seungcheol emerged like a rainbow during the pain. 

and from that day onwards, seungcheol never broke his promises, he never let you cry and most of all, seungcheol never forgot to make you feel loved. 

taglist: @xomingyu . @pixieskie . @bangchansbae . @weird-bookworm .

[bunnivez]

Modern! Zoya…

Her first job was as a tattoo artist. Most of her costumers were women, they would specifically ask for her to do their tattoos; both because of her amazing work and the other… to get a close look at her. Whats better? Zoya is aware of the many women she is pulling (๑>؂•̀๑)

Imagine you two meet randomly bumping against each other and turns out you work at the shop right next to the one she works at!

Or you got recomendad by your friend to go to a certain shop to get your tattoo done, telling you to specifically ask for a woman named Zoya since her work is more professional and she is more trusted to give you great results.

She used to live in an apartment until she got a husky… I mean she it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford an average house but damn, she now has to pay more…

Has a love-hate relationship with her dog TRUST. Often complains of their sudden howling and the amount of hair they shed.

“It’s 1:30AM why the fuck are you howling like that!? You sound like you’re dying!” “Oh my f… You know i’m tempted in leaving you bald so I don’t have to deal with having your hair on the couch.”

At the same time however, they are also her best buddy and friend. There are times where she even lets them sleep with her on bed… For at least an hour before Zoya falls asleep and accidentally pushes s them off the bed in the middle of the night.

Yes she is a messy sleeper, god knows how the heck she ends up with on leg on the headboard and the other hanging on the bed. She snores like a dad…

Like even her huskey got scared for a second and kept barking until she woke up.

Listen, when going out she has this whole badass outfit, rings on her fingers, chains, unbuttoned blouse, a whole ass fit that screams “DADDY”

And then there are times where she just pulls up to the grocery store with an “Idgaf” outfit… Yet somehow she still looks hot. Jorts, a black baggy shirt, socks with the damn sandals or crocs combo (ಠ_ಠ)

Has a tongue piercing and you cannot tell me otherwise. If not, it is definitely her nipples.

Dark or alcohol filled chocolates girly. She isn’t a fan of overly sweet stuff.

Once choked on boba balls.

Honestly she can be romantic at times. She takes you to dates often— if not she plans something you two can do at home. Like cook, watch movies, play games or something.

Motorcycle rides with her are very common, more so with the fact that she doesn’t really own a car… Which she did confess that she may or may not be the best at driving.

Who knows how the heck she managed to stay alive with the many incidents she’s had while driving.. I guess she’s immortal.

Has an electric guitar, she posts videos on TikTok playing it and they get pretty high views! Like 406.1k views or something.

Her reposts mainly contain of two things; brain rots, lesbian.

Takes the most silly pictures of you and posts them on her story.

Source ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

HAHAHSGSBSGAVAWHABE, IMAGINE HER LAYING DOWN WHILE YOU SIT ON TOP OF HER TO DO HER MAKEUP.

Holds you like a stuffed animal when sleeping. It’s actually so cute but it’s kinda hard to break free from her hold.

YOU GUYS PLAY ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS, AND WHOEVER LOSES IS IN CHARGE OF COOKING.

Her cooking is actually pretty damn good! I feel like she is especially a specialist when it comes to cooking meat.

If you are too shy to order your food whenever you two are out, or pay, DO NOT WORRY, SHE LITERALLY IS YOUR SAVIOR, NO KIDDING. This woman gives no fucks at all, too shy to order? She’ll do it, hot your order wrong? She’ll go up and tell them.

Have I mentioned she gets up at 5AM just to do pushups?…

The type to randomly smack or grab your ass, she doesn’t care about the size.

I don’t recommend watching romance movies with her… she will cringe at any kissing scenes acting like she wouldn’t or doesn’t do that with you 24/7.

Not the best at dancing… Girl is STIFF.

I have the feeling she is the type to not admit that she is in pain during her period. She will act all tough and all until she can’t anymore.

(We need more comforting the ptn women on their period instead of the other way around, they also need comfort 😔)

Oh yeah did I also mention she was close to breaking your phone once? It all happened when you were scrolling through TikTok and saw a thirst trap (*cough* Rhea Ripley *cough*) and when I tell you grabbed your phone and threw it… IT HAPPENED.

Says she hates kids but has a soft spot for them actually. They remind her of Horo when she was wayyy younger.

Randomly sends you weird TikToks…. Like it’s so random and she says nothing about it.

She isn’t a fan of dresses, but she once tried it for you and it was a sight. It hugged her curves right and she kept flexing her muscles. If you take any pictures she seriously will kill you. (Especially if you send them to her friends).

If you are out she WILL text and call you every 36 minutes if she can’t come with you. And if she is too busy to pick you up she will face time you on your way home.

Has like so many posters of her favorite bands, korn, kiss, Deftones, ect.

Randomly gives you kisses when you least expect it. They are so random, you could be distracted and she will kiss your cheek, or your forehead, or the top of your head.

If she sees anyone eyeing you while in public she will pull you close and give the person a nasty look.

[buckysbvtch3]

and they were roommates

Summary: You come home from work and hear roommate Eddie on the phone saying some…interesting things about you.

eddie munson x reader

masterlist

You’d spend the whole day working at the local coffee shop and to say you were relieved to get home was an understatement.

It’s not that you hated your job, it was just super draining. Hawkins had its upsides and downsides, and unfortunately, your job as a barista meant you dealt with both.

After high school finished and you all decided to put the paranormal events of the past behind you, you and Eddie had decided to move into a little apartment together.

It wasn’t the most luxurious of living spaces, that was for sure, but it did the job.

Eddie needed his own space after the upside down as well, which meant that although he loved Wayne, he decided to move out. Your and Eddie’s plans had been the same so moving out together was pretty much a given, considering you were both short on money as well.

Eddie worked mornings and some nights at the car workshop meaning you didn’t actually get to spend that much time together given the conflicting schedules.

Your lack of savings on both parts had also meant that an interesting compromise had to be made… the was only one bedroom.

While Eddie had continuously insisted on sleeping on the couch, there was no way you’d ever allow it—and besides, you two were friends so there was no reason for it to be awkward…

Dumping your bag on the couch and locking the door behind you, you listened out for any indication of Eddie’s presence. He said he’d be home when you finished but you got let off early today as it wasn’t busy.

“Honey I’m home!” You jokingly drawled out as you made your way to the bedroom. You two had always had flirty banter.

The sound of Eddie’s music reached your ears as you got closer to the door but you stopped at the sound of his voice.

Who was he talking to?

You’re curiosity got the best of you as you rested your ear against the door.

I don’t know how much longer I can do it, man. It’s fucking terrible—it’s like—I don’t know. It’s just so fucking frustrating. I don’t think I can like this much longer man, she drives me crazy.

Who was he talking to?

More importantly, who was she?

You couldn’t help but feel your heart crack just a little bit. Sure you’d decided as soon as the living arrangement begun to put your feelings behind you but it was hard considering you spent every night with his body heat taunting the whole side of your body. It’s was cruel.

Its fucking cruel dude, I think I have to move out. I can’t live with her anymore.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you put your hand on knob of the door ready to confront him. If he had such a problem with you why hadn’t you ever realised. Why hadn’t he ever said anything?

God, and the clothes she wears! Those little pyjama shorts need to be burned—It’s like the universe is against me! How the fuck am I supposed to not be heard twenty-four-fucking-seven?! It’s a curse, man. You gotta help me out here, I don’t know what to do.

Oh my god…

This was news to you, that’s for sure. Even with such obvious evidence of Eddie’s attraction being right in front of you, you had your reserves.

Okay, yes he was attracted to you…but was that the extent of his feelings for you?

You weren’t sure if that would be worse or better than him feeling nothing.

The silence between his last words told you the other person was speaking, but what were they saying? You pressed closer to the door and a loud groan of the hinge gave you away.

Panicking, you jolted back towards the door, picking up your bag as if you’d just got in the door. “Home!”

You heard some loud shuffling and Eddie clearing his throat before a wide, slightly panicked, smile took over his face.

“Hey Angel, how was work?”

Those pet names were going to be the end of you. Eddie had always been a gentleman, but he never called any of the other girls in the group the same pet names he uses for you and it was confusing and frustrating.

Was he just being polite? Did he think you two were closer than he was with the others? You’d hoped so considering you lived together but the conversation you overheard definitely is making you question all of the things you’d previously brushed off as Eddie being, well, Eddie.

A tilt of his head made you realise you’d been staring and that you’d waiting too long before answering his question. Your cheeks immediately reddened as you snapped out of it.

“It was good! Jo let me off early because it was quiet… not like I get many tips when it’s quiet anyways,” you managed to get out, now recovered from your previous fluster.

“Well that’s good then doll, can’t have you working that pretty head of yours too hard anyways. Too good for that place. Too smart.”

You’d already had this conversation with Eddie about applying for scholarships numerous times. He urged you to, knowing you’d get them but you don’t want to leave your life behind.

“Yeah yeah… I know.”

You went into the room while Eddie waited on the lounge room as you got changed. It was routine for you two. Practically second nature. You couldn’t help but wish he’d walk in one time and finally make a move after all these years. The tension was frustrating and you’d always wondered if you could push him over the edge. Your doubt had always stopped you, but after hearing what he’d said you couldn’t help but wonder if there was…more to his feelings.

Your desire overtook the logical side of your brain as you saw your shortest frilly pyjama set. You usually reserved your little singlet and short sets for actual nighttime, respecting your and Eddie’s minimal boundaries, but you were feeling brave tonight.

Slipping it on and checking out yourself in the mirror, you smiled. You did look amazing in this set. If you were eddie you’d probably be hard too. You had to stop from getting ahead of yourselves. Pushing doubt and embarrassment aside, you walked out asking if eddie wanted to get takeout.

You pretending like you didn’t see the way his eyes practically bulged out of his skull as he saw you, seating yourself at the coffee table and opening your draw of menus you two had collected from around town. Leaning over, you’d definitely given him a bit of a glimpse down your top.

He cleared his throat harshly and sat across from you. “Yeah, sure—whatever you want sweetheart, we can pop on a movie as well.”

By the time the pizza had arrived you two were about half an hour into Scream. You had suggested it, knowing it was Eddie’s favourite movie. And tonight was about,well—him, to put it lightly.

It’s not like you wanted to torture the poor boy, but you were hoping that in your efforts he’d snap. Tonight was the last night you were pushing aside your feelings, you’d decided. Even if all he wanted was to bone you, you’d decided you’d tell him how you felt anyways, it was only right. Besides, you knew Eddie wasn’t really that sort of guy, sure you knew he’d slept around a little after high school, but so had you. It was no secret. It’s not like you could exactly hide your private life that well considering you slept in the same bed.

Not that you’d ever brought back anyone to the apartment, but neither had Eddie. It was just a given. It was one of the things you’d liked most about Eddie. He’d always respected you and your space, knowing you’d respect his.

Eddie had gotten up to grab the pizza and you could help yourself in what you did next. He’d placed it in the middle of the coffee table in front of the couch and once he’d sat down with a piece, offering it to you, you smiled and shook your head insisting on him eating it and grabbing your own.

You stood up, half in front of him and bent down, taking maybe a little too long to grab a slice. You knew your ass was almost directly in front of his face as you’d bent down.

You felt that your shirts had ridden right up as you’d bent over, and your heart was racing a million miles an hour knowing that there really was no going back after this. You just prayed he didn’t catch on to what you were doing.

Eddie shot up from his spot as you’d sat down next to him, thighs touching.

“Bathroom!” He exclaimed a bit too loudly as he walked a bit weird down the hall.

You had to hold in your laugh. He was definitely hard. You felt a bit guilty but you also didn’t want your game to end here. You weren’t certain that he was going for a wank but you didn’t want to risk it.

Gaining confidence knowing that at the very least he was definitely attracted to you, you waited about a minute before getting up and standing outside the door.

“Hurry up you’re gonna miss the best part Eds!” You smirked, knowing he had to come out now, knowing you were outside the door.

He was probably just taking a breather but you wouldn’t have any of that—you loved when he was flustered. Too adorable.

“Oh my goddd,” you practically moaned, “this pizza is sooo gooood.”

You heard a bang and a quiet curse from behind the door. Holding back a giggle you continued.

“Is it just me or does this pizza taste waaaay better than normal? Mmmmm…”

You almost ruined everything at the laugh you had to cover up with a slight cough. Deciding you were done now, you made your way back to the couch.

You two finished off the pizza without much more happening. You made the same jokes and quips as you usually would until the screen went blank out of nowhere.

“Eddie!” You knew we was sitting on the fucking remote. This happened at least once a week.

“It’s actually not me this time! Get up and check your own side!” He whined.

You get up and lift the cushion, only for it not to be there. “Get up, Eds!” He let out a long whine. “I’m comfyyyyy.”

He could be such a sook sometimes but you couldn’t help but find it adorable. His eyes were slightly glazed over with what you assumed was tiredness.

You decided to get it yourself and reached under Eddie shoving your hand under the cushion searching for it.

You two continued bickering, him insisting it wasn’t there and in your efforts to prove him wrong like you always did, reaching even further meant you somehow ended up in his lap.

The position went over your head as your hips moved, arm reached further between the cushion.

Eddie stilled beneath you and you breath caught in your throat at the reason why.

You could feel Eddie in his entirety. Hard. Against your thigh.

You were both frozen. Barely breathing.

Wide eyes connected as you were both lost for words. Eddie broke first.

“Shit—I’m sorry I…”

Your mouth caught up to brain and you stumbled out, “No—I shouldn’t have…”

Heavy breaths connected as you realised just how close your faces were.

You couldn’t help but glance down at his extremely kissable lips. You’d always been fascinated by every aspect of him, but especially his lips.

He licked them almost on instinct, causing you to lick yours as well without a thought.

“Y/N, I…” Eddie breathed softly, eyes full of lust but also something…warm?

“Please Eds,” you breathily responded, desire clear on your face.

That was all it took for Eddie to press his lips to yours. It started off surprisingly soft, the feeling of his lips against yours consuming you entirely. You were buzzing. It was just you and Eddie in this moment. His hands were on your hips and yours behind his neck gently tangled in his hair. You sighed into the kiss and he pulled even you closer.

His kiss slowly turned deeper, licking your bottom lip, hoping to kiss you deeper.

Opening your mouth, his tongue stroked yours and the fire in your belly was getting deeper. Unbeknownst to you, you had started slowly moving your hips against his.

He groaned deeply, pulling away from you. “Wait—” he squeezed your hips. “You need to stop for a sec.”

Rational thinking beyond you, the sting of rejection was overwhelming. So many emotions were rising to the surface and you couldn’t help your eyes glazing over. Maybe he realised it was a fantasy and he wasn’t actually enjoying himself. Maybe he realised having you as a friend was better. Maybe you kissed grossly—

Having realised your train of thought and seeing your eyes all glossy he immediately panicked.

“No! You don’t understand—j-just hear me out baby,” he stuttered out. Nerves evident in his voice. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hips and he pulled your head down to his shoulder.

Mouth right next to your ear, unable to look you in the eyes in fear of rejection, he explained himself.

“I want you so bad, you have no idea. God, darling I’ve wanted you so bad for longer than you could imagine. You have no idea how badly I want to keep kissing you, but I can’t without knowing if you feel the same.”

His hand had moved to the middle of your back rubbing up and down gently. Your breath hitched wondering if what he was about to say was what you’d always dreamt of hearing.

You leaned back, looking him in the eyes, giving him a shy smile of encouragement.

“Look, I—I know I’m not the best guy out there, especially not for you. And I thought that all these years I could push down my feelings for you, but I can’t. And I don’t want to give you the wrong impression so I need to give you my whole truth. I—I love you Y/N… and you don’t need to feel the same because I know it’s a lot and I’m completely fine if you want to go back to being just friends or you want me to move out or you never want to speak to me again but I just needed you to know and Steve keeps telling me you feel the same but I don’t know if that’s true and I don’t want you to feel forced in to anything just because I feel that way—”

Hearing what you needed to hear, you interrupted his rambling by pressing your lips back together, and this time you took control of the kiss, moving even further up his lap eliciting a loud groan.

“I love you too, Eds.”

—————

Requests open!!

Thanks for reading guys!!

Not proofread sorry!

Please let me know if you want a smut part two! Or a normal part two 🫣!

Comment any ideas you have with this Eddie and reader as well because I’m thinking of making a few different one shots from the same universe!

Would you guys be into that?

Anyways thanks for reading!

Love you all x

<3

[ilovespec]

A loving but dangerous winter ~

Y/N: your name

Y/L: your last name

|Yandere! Fem Serial killer × shy reader| part 1

warnings (although who has ever paid attention to them) : age difference , size difference , theft of things , illegal entry (into an apartment) , GL , light or not obsession.

4938 words.

Y/N Y/L this is an ordinary average girl, plain appearance, neither short nor tall, quiet character and no differences from all other girls on this globe. She works (barely making ends meet) and lives in a rented apartment. Every day is the same , getting up early at 5:00 in the morning , brushing teeth , showering , a meager breakfast and sometimes its absence, putting on clothes, taking the subway to the coffee shop where she worked, a long day at work and finally, the way home, a short sleep and everything is like new ....

. ｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

But everything changed a little bit, as she thought, when she came to the coffee shop where she worked.... Slim.. No, even masculine muscular, unusually tall for a woman.... She had white hair with a black tips , blue eyes, beautifully serious facial features, and slightly pale, not tanned skin...She is wearing a grey turtleneck and black trousers.. They look quite expensive. It can be seen that they are made to order..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Y/N blushed slightly when a beautiful stranger came up to the checkout, but she's just a customer.... Maybe she won't even remember it, and won't come here next time.. yeah...? How wrong she is.

Beautiful stranger: Good afternoon, please give me a ristretto.

She has such an unusual accent! Russian or something... It makes her even more beautiful, and the ristretto.. This is a very strong coffee! Well, okay, a client is a client....

Y/N: Y-yes...how do I sign your cup, Miss..?

Beautiful stranger: Agafya, my name is Agafya. Дорогая.

DAMN, WHY DO I STUTTER EVEN WHEN I'M NOT LOOKING AT HER?!??! And what did she call me...? I do not understand what this word means, but I hope that it was not liberating..

Y/N prepared a ristretto, and brought it to Agafya's table

Agafya: Thank you very much.

Agafia finishes her ristretto without even wincing and pays for the coffee, leaving a BIG tip and leaves with a barely noticeable grin

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Y/N finished her shift and went to the subway but... When she ran to his station, it drove away right in front of her nose. She missed the subway and she would had to call an "Uber"... To do this, she went outside, taking out her phone on the go, and abruptly! She heard a couple of horns from the side of the road next to her , she turned around uncertainly , and found a DAMN MERCEDES THERE IN WHICH AGAFYA WAS SITTING !!

Agafya: Good night, can I take you home?

After a little hesitation, she nodded slightly, and hesitantly got into an expensive car. And she immediately started moving...

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

The girls were silent all the way, and I was able to see Agafya... She was beautiful... And she's definitely 8-9 years older than her. Perfect face, without a single flaw and Russian facial features...White hair , with black tips on each strand, that was perfectly styled... A grey turtleneck and black trousers without a single crease.. Everything about her was perfect , it was strange that she was interested in such an ordinary girl like Y/N...

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

When they arrived at her house, T/I quietly thanked the kind new acquaintance, and went to her apartment, wishing her a good night in advance.

Agafya: Good night to you too, and don't thank me. Кролик.

She said another word again , in Russian ... And I hoped with all my heart that it wasn't offensive. And because of her fatigue, she did not have an idea why Agafya knew her exact address.

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

The whole next week was, to put it mildly.... Amazing. There were fewer and fewer rude customers every day.. The boss started paying his salary more often... And even her previously noisy colleagues have become much quieter! What surprised and pleased her ! But the gifts and notes were even more surprising and frightening.... IN HER FUCKING APARTMENT !!!! Every morning when she woke up, she found a bouquet of flowers (your favorite color) on a random surface of her house (different every day), and romantic notes written in calligraphically precise handwriting... And the same thing happened late at night when she was returning home from work. And that scared and confused her even more... She began to lose her underwear , a pair of lipsticks , and even her and even her T-shirt was missing ! It was still flowers..

｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆

Today was an ordinary day, and today there were not even flowers and notes in her apartment, and even her things stopped disappearing! She was already overjoyed, and as usual, she entered the coffee shop where she worked... Her love.. Agafya, and already out of habit. Even when Agafya had just started to go to the checkout, she had already started preparing the ristretto. Agafya chuckled softly

Agafya: Yes, you already know me like a flake.

Y/N: Y-yes..... How can I not know my regular customer? Haha.. haaa....

Agafya: By the way, Y/N... Are you free after work today? I want to ask you out on a date.

WHAAAAAAAAT !!???! Y/N couldn't believe her ears, and blushing , and she stared at Agafya like a deer in the headlights

Y/N: What...? Uh... A date...? I think so... I'm free after work... me... I'm always free! Ha.. Haha...

Her head is in a complete mess, on the one hand she was over the moon with happiness, and on the other, why was it so straightforward, and so unexpected....

To be continued ;)

please write reviews about the first chapter of this "story" in the comments, please 😅 This is only the second time I've posted anything like this ...

translations:

Дорогая : darling

Кролик : rabbit

[alpaca-clouds]

What Mutual Aid can look like

If you grow up in modern society, there is a good chance you will only ever associate anarchism with violence and rebellion. This ignores though the core principle of anarchism. Like one of the things, that anarchism is build around: Mutual Aid.

And guess what: That kinda is something that human society for the longest time has been build around. (See also what I wrote a few weeks ago about gift societies before money was a thing.)

Mutual Aid is just, what it sounds like: Helping each other in ways we can help. Which can mean a lot of different things, because different people have different abilities to help.

You know, one of the things I liked about the early pandemic with the lockdown and what not was, that people rediscovered Mutual Aid, because a lot of people did not only need it, but also had the time to do it.

And what we really need to learn is, that Mutual Aid does not mean that everyone does exactly the same for each other (in terms of workload). Because some people just have more capacities than other people. And that is okay.

Too often Mutual Aid when discussed in media kinda only focuses on financial aid. And do not get me wrong: Helping someone to cover essencial costs is absolutely 100% a form of Mutual Aid. But... This is still very much caught within the capitalist thinking. And it can be so much more. So... Let me talk what else Mutual Aid can be:

Cooking for each other/for your neighboors. Maybe you have this old guy in the neighboorhood who just cannot properly cook for himself, because he just cannot stand for long enough to do it. Or maybe there is this single mom with two kids who works long hours and just does not have the energy to properly cook afterwards. And you might be cooking either way. So maybe you can cook for them, too?

Something we saw in the pandemic a lot: Going grocery shopping for your friends or neighbours. People were unable to go shopping because they themselves got infected with COVID or were immuno compromised? Folks went shopping for them. Why not keep it up? Covid is not over. Also, that old lady downstairs might have issues carrying her own groceries.

Repairing all sorts of things for other people. Be it their broken computer, their broken bike or car, or be it fixing that hole in their clothing. You have the skills to fix it? Why not fix it for them then, instead of forcing them to either buy new stuff or have it fixed for a ton of money.

Or one thing my roommate will always do for me: Cut my hair. That, too, is mutual aid. I need that hair cut. She will do it for me. That, too, is mutual aid.

Or if you are skilled in sowing, maybe actually sew clothes for people who cannot afford proper ones (aka clothing that is not gonna fall apart after a year)? That, too, is mutual aid.

And there is this friend who needs to go somewhere but does not have a car and the place is not easily reachable with other modes of transportation? Yeah, driving them is another form of Mutual Aid.

I could go on and on about this, babysitting, petsitting, helping someone clean, borrowing tools and so on... I think you get the idea, though. Mutual aid is... surprisingly easy. And most people already give it out on a pretty regular basis.

Because, again: People are actually pretty darn decent. We usually do things for each other because doing things for each other actually feels kinda good.

So... yeah. Maybe think about that. And think about how great society would be if more people were doing this.

[hyunjinsbelovedamericano]

Don't leave

Jeongin x reader, jeongin is toxic and kind of a stalker 🙈, slight yandere jeongin, not proof read😬

Mention of yunjin(yes from Le Sserafim)

Angsty

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

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

It's been four months since you and jeongin broke up,you were the one who broke up with him. I mean he was toxic he would come back from 'work' with a bunch of lip stick stains on his face and neck. Did he really think that you were stupid? It was painfully obvious that he was cheating, when you asked him about it he would shrug it off and tell you you're being dramatic and that he would never cheat on you.

You left him there was no way you were gonna let him treat you like that, it's been four months since then and you were living your best life, going out almost every weekend, shopping regularly it couldn't get better! "I'm so glad you left him" your friend yunjin boasted as she bit into her chocolate drizzled donut, "Me too, I can't believe I let him drag me like that for so long" You agreed placing down the bags on the table knowing who she was referring too, "Whatever, he's in the past now"Yunjin said wiping the sugar off her hands. You simply just nodded to let her know you understood and agreed with her statment,you and yunjin talked for a while until it was time for her to leave, she went to your front door and waved goodbye before shutting the door.

Whilst you and yunjin were talking you packed the bags away to get it out of the way, you got ready for bed and turned of all the lights in the house,finally able to rest on your bed. As you were trying to fall asleep you had a weird feeling that someone was watching you, it felt like eyes we're starting right at you,this isn't the first time,ever since last month you've been feeling like this. You're just being dramatic, that's what you told yourself,that did make you at ease but it comforted you temporarily so you could fall asleep.

The next day came and it was a normal morning, nothing out of the blue, everything was a it should be. Even though you just went out yesterday, you decided to go out again. What's the harm? You just wanted some alone time. You put on your shoes and grabbed your keys and exited your apartment, once you closed the door you felt the same pair of eyes on you. What was going on? You tried to walk a bit further and the more you walked you realised that someone was following you, you heard footsteps following your every turn and movement and these footsteps weren't your own.To feel more safe you called your friend yunjin

"hey, what's u-"

"yunjin?" You said fear lacing your voice

"Yes, what's wrong you sound scared"

"I think someone is following me"

"Wha-why?"

"I hear the same footsteps" you said in a whisper not wanting whoever was following you to hear the conversation you are having.

"You don't think it's him, do you"

"No-no it can't be, he doesn't know were I live" you uttered knowing immediately who she was referring too.

"Okay listen to me go to the mall, you know the place we visited yesterday. there's always a lot of people there. Stay there and I'll pick you up okay?"

"Okay" you said your voice coming out in a whisper.

You ended the call hesitantly and speed walked to the mall, luckily it wasn't that far from your current location.As yunjin said there were loads of people there any kidnapping attempt would be unsuccessful, you sat on an empty bench and waited for yunjin too come pick you up, bouncing your leg and anxiously looking around,after a short while you spot familiar blonde hair in the crowd. Which caused you too stand up and run to it, your guess was right, it was yunjin.She could she the afraid look on your face causing her to look even more worried

"Do you wanna stay at my place until tonight? "

You nodded in response and clinged onto her arm,waiting to get inside her house already,yunjin walked you to her car and drove away to her house.Once inside yunjin's house you sat on her couch and spaced out until you heard her call out your name

"Are you doing better, you seem.. stressed"

"I just-i've also been feeling like someone has been watching me for the past month"

"MONTH?! Why didn't you tell me this"

You stayed quiet unable to give an answer yunjin sighed and put a hand on your shoulder.Youve been at yunjins house so long that it was starting to become dark outside

"Are you sure you can handle going back home you can stay the night of you want"yunjin offered

"No it's okay, ill be okay"

Yunjin agreed hesitantly and waved you goodbye and telling you to stay safe, you closed the door and began to walk to your house. Halfway through the journey to your house, the sky already became dark, tiny stars highlight it.Peoples lights were turning on and curtains were closing, meaning it was officially night time. You felt a little nervous knowing you were alone at night but you told yourself it'll be okay, keeping you calm, but all that calmness faded away once you heard those footsteps again. Those same footsteps.

This caused you to quicken your paste and walk a bit faster, not wanting whoever was behind you to catch you. The person copied your speed, walking just as fast as you are. They copied everything you were doing,you took notice of this and your heart rate began to speed up and thoughts raced through your head. One of them was "maybe I should call yunjin", you took out your phone and looked at the battery ,2%, your heart dropped seeing this, can you even make it through a phone call? You scrolled through your contacts until you found yunjin, tapping on her icon and calling her. " hello?"her voice from the other side of the phone was heard. "Yunjin I'm being followed again" you whispered,"please help".Yunjin got chills down her spine once hearing this,there was nothing she could do.Your location wasn't on so she couldn't even see where you are and you're probably way to far from her house for her to come and get you before anything happens. "Um, okay,uh"Yunjin struggled to find words as much as she struggled to find a solution. "Run. Just run as fast as can till you make it okay?"Yunjin spoke, this being the only solution she could find.Before you could say anything in response the call ended, your phone died. You cursed as you saw your phone power off, but put your phone back in your pocket and started running. You ran and ran and so did the person behind you they seemed to be running faster than you, scaring you even more. You ran until arms wrapped around you and cold metal sat against your neck.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat"

And everything went black

___________________________

Sorry for the late post, I've just been having no motivation lately

The last two lines were inspired from this fanfic I read from @linos-luna so credit to them!