#who can't fight back using the same excuse you have

[aloeverawrites]

"... well that's still not fair."

"Of course it's not fair, we are enslaving you! tremble before us!" They declared, blue arms waving angrily over their heads.

I think for a minute and excuse myself, heading back to my group.

"Okay so I have a game plan."

My group was a human rights organisation fighting for universal basic income across the globe. We call ourselves UBI-Iseeyou because, well we were mad at the billionaire class okay. Also we wanted a name that could almost be a pun, anyway-

"Guys, they want to enslave us. They think they're harming us, they clearly don't have our best intentions at heart." I say and Zoe pipes up with,

"Yeah but maybe their translators just say that and they don't mean it? Also like even if they do mean it, they can't all think the same things right? Should we judge them all because a few members of their species are jerks?"

"Okay, true that's a really good point actually. We won't write them off entirely. But still, if they mean what they see then they mean to hurt us. It's only a matter of time before they realise that those things don't hurt humans and they pivot to something else. Plus, they've shown they have no harm killing cows and they have about as much in common with cows as they do us. Who's to say we're not next if they find a better use for us? If another species they enslave wants people steaks?"

"Plus, what will the planet look like if we're farming beef, waygu beef for 8 billion people? We're gonna cook." Tina said and I grimaced thinking at what the methane output of that would look like.

"Plus, like why strawberries?"

"You're right, we have to do something about this." Joey said and we all nodded.

"Don't worry guys, like I said, I have a plan."

One good thing about a person always being awful to you, is that they're predictable. The ruling classes started a war against the aliens, because how dare they take their wage slaves and turn them into slaves with a better work life balance and access to waygu beef.

They used all the best weaponry and tech they could, stuff only the billionaire classes have access to. (Stuff we didn't even know they had like, what the hell is a matter destabiliser. Who the hell were they developing that to use on- well obviously us but like damn.) And that's about all they used. See the insistence on replacing humans with AI meant that most of the 'fighters' were robots, ai, machines and computers. The humans weren't really included. Except for the ones who really believed the billionaire classes had their best interests at heart. There were way less of those these days. Especially since my group, and others like it, had been encouraging each other not to fight. We used our funds to support those who would have been pressured into fighting otherwise, gave them an income and the chance to join our fight instead, and most took it. Yeah instead of fighting 'the blues' as humanity called them we came up with our own plans. (Also guess how we fuelled our mission? That's right, blackmarket strawberry trade with aliens. Oh and strawberry tarts? They would sell out their own in a heartbeat for those things and I honestly can't blame them.)

The minute they won the war against the aliens, the one percent sat down to celebrate, resources depleted, expecting the praises of humanity. Instead that's when the real war began. The class war.

See we had spent all our time planning against them, forming our own armies and adding our own programs into their tech. So when they returned, tired from their intergalactic battle over who gets to be humanity's overlords, we seized our chance. Their robots turned against them, their wealth was redistributed into our communities, democracies were propped and laws about investing and finances were enacted so no one could ever use the system to own more wealth than a country ever again. We took total control, and you know what? It was bloodless. No one saw it coming, the bots and the rest of the planets now united population turned on them overnight. We refused to kill or harm them, because we didn't want to start a new dawn of human rights like that. Their punishment was living on a planet full of people that resented them for their greed in the before times. Also good luck going to mars, there are aliens living there now and they don't like you either, so ha.

It turns out that divide and conquer strategy, the make your enemies turn on each other thing that they had been using on us really worked. Our competing overlords spent so much time fighting each other, they couldn't focus on us anymore. Kind of like how they used bigotry and started wars in other countries to keep the working class divided, too busy hating each other to unite and fight for better.

Thanks for the tactic guys.

The aliens retreated to their ships, exhausted and hurting from their war. They too were angry about the outcome, and turned on their leaders creating a huge regime change. We don't know exactly how their political systems work, but, well we wanted to.

The international galactic representatives of earth offered to meet with 'the blues'. To our joy, our message was received by their smaller political group that cared about blue rights, and to some extent, our own.

We gave them some of our tech, very hesitantly, (there was a lot of international debates about that) and they managed to take power as well. So now two planets were govern by a commitment to the rights of sentient beings.

They gave us alien technology, medication, ideas and tech beyond our wildest dreams that helped us progress faster than ever. With this stuff, two day work weeks was all we needed for full time work, if that.

So that's how we entered into the new age of hope, of no illness, no poverty, no bigotry, no harm to animals and no climate change or environmental destruction. UBIs and no forced work, a common two day work weeks and finally, after all this time, world peace. World peace that included all species, that extended past the cities into the forests, the oceans. Finally, the whole earth sat in contentment, no lifeforms suffering for the first time since life had begun.

And all it took was some cooperation, an intergalactic war.

And a whole of strawberries.

"Dear earthlings, prepare to be my slave!" Announced the alien. "You will have to work 3 entire days from Monday to Wednesday, you will only get A5 wagyu steak for meals, and if that isn't cruel enough you'll have to work 2 entire torturing hours of picking strawberries every single work day!"

[queersyourgender]

hi !! can you do something for john shen? where reader is usually calm and collected, speaking in a low tone so everyone around them will remain calm as well, but when the ambulances bring a bunch of people into the pitt with injuries after a fight broke out between groups who support different teams (you can pick the sport idk) they're the one to yell at the people wreaking havoc as everyone tries to work, which instantly shuts the patients up and john cant stop staring at them with heart eyes for the rest of the shift ((and the others notice))

sorry if it's too big and specific :(

Quiet Down — John Shen x GN!Reader

Notes: Never apologize for a req, me darl!! I'm happy to receive it regardless of details <3 Unfortunately the fic itself turned out rather short, so I hope you can forgive me for that! Mentions of bruises and stab wounds ^^

———

You have a headache.

Patients were spilling off stretchers, EMTs shouting vitals mid-step, and somewhere behind curtain two, someone was yelling bloody murder. The fight that had broken out at the Pirates–Phillies tailgate had sent a dozen fans from both sides into the ER with concussions, stab wounds, and no shortage of pride still intact.

“You fuckin’ Phillies!” One man shouts, from where he's being rolled on a fucking gurney by Perlah further into the ER for his unnaturally bent arm, at another man in a similar position. “You snowflakes can't take a fuckin’ loss, can you?! Just had to cause a ruckus!”

“We're not the ones who started this, dickwad!” The man shouts back, moving to reach for the other as he rolls past him. Donnie swats at his arms like he's a particularly pesky fly and manhandles him back onto his stretcher.

The person behind curtain two is still shouting, and you can tell it's not from pain. He's cussing, yes, but it's not at the doctor treating him, but rather at the patient in the next curtain over, tasteless expletives rolling off his tongue with practiced ease.

Your headache grows, but you focus on cleaning the head wound in front of you. An old drunkard that's thankfully conscious and quiet, looking at you with something along the lines of pity in his eyes, like he can tell you're about to snap.

Nobody else seems to give a damn about it, though, as the shouting from the patients and their family members grows louder with each passing second. And you know you're the calm, cool, and collected one, the one that can ease any growing panic with vibes alone, but even you have limits.

The straw that breaks the camel's back is when a woman gets up in John's face, your John, and starts screaming about her very lightly bruised teenage boy needing more attention than the man with the literal stab wound that he's treating.

“If you'll excuse me for just a moment, sir,” you tell the man you're stitching the head of, who shrugs and gives you a go ahead gesture like he knows what you're about to do. You give him a polite, thankful smile, then turn around to face the general populace of the ER.

“Will everybody please quiet down?!”

A hush falls over the emergency room as every head suddenly turns to you, all equally alarmed. “We are trying to help everyone, and we can't do that with you screaming at us,” you announce, pointedly facing the woman standing in front of John with a sharp glare.

She shrinks back just slightly, and John blinks at you with big eyes. You miss his completely dumbfounded expression, however, as you turn to the two men on the gurneys to speak to them too. One of them opens his mouth to say something, probably to protest that they didn't start it or some such, but you shove an accusing finger in his face and give one sharp order.

“Behave!” 

He quiets and looks away, muttering something beneath his breath about not being a dog. And yet he obeys the command all the same, arms petulantly crossed over his chest as he finally lets Donnie take a proper look at his swollen black eye.

Perlah covers her snort with a cough and continues wheeling the man with the broken arm down the hall. As she walks past John, she leans over and whispers: “You'll catch flies, Dr. Shen,” and laughs when his teeth noisily clack shut in his haste to look unbothered.

[hilacopter]

My fellow Jews, if you say things like "but I'm not even Israeli" when addressed with antisemitism, you are implying that if you were Israeli the antisemitism and hate towards you would be justified. You are contributing to the dehumanisation of Israelis. Good for you that you have a get out of jail free card, but I and many others don't have that privilege.

[seventeensrat]

Dorm Doll!

cw/tags: ot13 x reader (not all at the same time no one can do that), overstim, bondage, tickling (blink and you'll miss it), tummy rubbing, fluff but in a sexy way, sexual acts but in a fluffy way, cunnilingus, groping, thigh riding, fingering, somnophilia in jeonghan's, svt is referred to as brothers (how mahabharatha really should've gone), reader is "picked up like a little kid" in joshua's,(no pedophilia), innocence kink, slight petplay in jun's, reader wears cat ears, heavy objectification, exhibitionism, excessive use of commas.

EVERYTHING IS CONSENSUAL but negotiated off screen uhhhhh its just free-use on 300% softness

a/n: this is just svt brainrot I wrote at 1 am okay pls bear with me this is unedited and grammer is a foreign concept I was straight up jorking it in the stripped clubr to this I wanna be their pretty doll so fucking bad.

Oh, to be Seventeen's little free use doll, whom they treat like their own sex doll and comfort plushie at the same time. Minding your own business, writing or scrolling or reading? Not anymore :333 you're always getting swept off your feet— literally— because there is someone's strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the floor to be carried off to cuddle and touch. You can count on one hand the number of times you've been left alone without someone's hands on your skin. They pass you around, not just to be fucked dumb, but because everyone wants their turn to squeeze and play with their little dorm doll.

Movie nights would always end up with you stretched over multiple member's laps like a cat. Gentle hands draw up your arms above your head, half pinned down, half entwined with theirs. Your head is on one lap, your torso stretched over the next, legs in another's. In the darkness only lit up by the glow of the TV, it's hard to make out whose hand is petting your tit, pressing thumbs into the arch of your foot, or stroking the flat of your tummy. It's also hard to make out who's sliding fingers down your throat to keep your little whines muffled. Can't have you distracting them from the movie, right?

Seungcheol would be forever breaking up petty little fights that started from bickering over whose turn it was to have you (looking straight at bss) and taking it as an excuse to neatly pluck you from their arms and set you on his lap and wrap his arms around you. No amount of struggling will get you out of his grip, even though he finds it sooo adorable that you have to try so hard against a fraction of his strength. The squirming inadvertently makes him hard, so he flips you over so you're sideways on his lap, held up by one arm banding around your ribs, while he strokes along the curve of your back and gropes the flesh of your ass. Cheol is content with the softness of you on him, more than any completion.

Jeonghan thinks it's cute to ambush you. A midday nap is often interrupted by Hannie flopping on top of you and pressing his face into your back, sliding the point of his nose up the divot of your spine. Any and all activity is interrupted by him sliding behind you, hands sneaking under your shirt (if you're wearing one in the first place), squeezing your waist. He firmly believes there's no better place for his hands than the dip of your waist. That's where they end up even at night, sliding behind you on whomever's bed you're sleeping on for the night, his cock pushing into your warm, still wet heat. Fucking into you while wondering how many of his brothers had used you before he did.

Joshua, our resident sweetheart. He scoops you up like a child, both of you giggling, and sets off on little "adventures", as he was so fond of calling them. He affectionately pulls pretty clothes over you, dressing you how he pleases, then takes you shopping for more. Each outfit you try on earns you a little kiss. Shua thinks you're adorable in soft sweaters cropped too high, swishy floofy skirts that barely cover anything, cute stockings that hugged your thighs. He parades you around svt, forcing you to show off your new clothes, ignoring the blush high on your cheeks. No, his focus was completely on his teammates, watching their eyes darken at the glimpses of skin where delicate fabric rode up, where the pudge of your thigh stuck out over the lacy edge of the stocking. Later, he sets you on his lap— in front of everyone's hungry gazes— and knocks your knees open over his legs. Warm fingers soon find their place on your clit, further down to your hole. It's utter filth, the way his large hand stretches the fabric of your panties. Vulgar, really, when it's so obvious it doesn't belong there, but nothing feels more right when you fall apart around two of his fingers, his brothers' hands aching along his with the ghost of your release.

Junhui treats you more like a house cat than a sex doll. Always picking you up at random times of the day and carrying you to the couch, petting your hair, rubbing your back. He pokes your ribs and sides, just to see you twist away and push his hand down. Once, inexplicably, he grabbed your entire face as you would a cat you wanted to bother. The resulting cat fight (hehe) led to you straddling his face, your hands pinning his wrists down above his head. It was all a show really; he could push you off, flip you over, pin you down and have his wicked way with his dear kitty, all in the span of a breath, and you both know that. Yet, he let it happen because he loved the weight of you on his face, your pretty, breathy sighs and whimpers, your mewling when he didn't, wouldn't stop licking at your cunt. Jun loved when you initiated anything, cupping your pussy and affectionately calling you his "little cat in heat", scratching behind the cat ears he bought for you. He loved putting you face down ass up on the living room rug, where anyone could walk in on Jun slamming into you, one hand between your shoulder blades, the other pinning your wrists behind your back. If anyone walks in? Well, it's so commonplace they barely take note of it anymore, but sometimes—after a long day, or a hard practice— they push your teary face between their legs, cooing at how you rub your cheek against the bulge in their pants. Nothing relieves their stress and frustration like pushing your head down, large hand between your cat ears, seeing drool and cum and tears mix on your pretty face, but you curling up on Jun’s lap like a content cat comes in as a strong second.

Hoshi . Is bitey. Half man, half tiger, half toddler is really the only way you could even somewhat adequately describe him. He's forever teething against the soft inside of your thigh, licking at you until you cry, fucking into you like a rabid animal, pinching your cheeks and cooing over you, before burying his face in your neck and mouthing at the skin there. The other members teased you about the marks he left, pressing gently down on bruises new and faded. There was no embarrassing Hoshi, not when he proudly showed them off when he could, yanking your head back by the hair, exposing the delicate arch of your throat. His tongue laved over the bites, tasting the salt of your skin, and he paid no heed to your incessant squirming. Your shoulders are always adorned with perfectly circular bitemarks, to the point where the others were concerned by them. What they didn't know, not until Hoshi walked out smug and shirtless after a shower, was how much you marked him up as well (to Mingyu's scandalized gasp). You were usually so pliant underneath them, your hands always pinned out of the way and held down, but Soonyoung adored when your small hands tried to grasp onto him, when your pretty, sharp nails clawed at his back and shoulders, struggling to withstand the onslaught of pleasure. The result? Long, fine scratches adorning his spine, shifting under the toned muscles of his back and biceps. He wears them proudly like his own tiger stripes.

Wonwoo is a cat maid enjoyer trustttt. He is also a little shit. Even without the frills of the costume, the cat ears and his hand are permanently on your head. Number 1 headpat giver. Reading? His hands are stroking your hair. Sleeping together? His thumb is brushing over the arch of your ear. You do something mildly cute (breathe)? Pat pat pat. Loves cuddling you like a plushie against his chest, both while lying down and sitting up. The cuteness aggression is unreal. At least, it is until the sadist in him takes over. He loves nothing more than locking a remote controlled vibe against you and making you do menial household chores like dusting and scrubbing in your pretty, too-short outfit that did nothing to hide whatever lacy thing you had on underneath. His favourite is when you are on your hands and knees, pretending to scrub the floor, the ridiculously frilly uniform soaked through with water, skin slippery with suds, smelling like soap and desperation, all because he turned the vibe up too high, too quickly. He makes you come like that, shaking and crying on the floor. Once. Twice. You were well on the way to the third when he gathers you up in his arms and sets you on his lap, uncaring of the water soaking through his clothes. He presses a firm hand over your pussy, forcing the toy against your clit, and lets you sob your way through your climax. Wonwoo is gentle when he cleans you up after, undoing the ties of your dress with nimble, long-fingered hands, lowering your spent body into a hot bath, cradling you until you fall fast asleep against his chest. Of course, not without innumerous headpats.

Woozi has 3 loves in his life: music, working out, and you. According to him, there was no reason not to combine any of the three, which found you in his studio, curled up on his lap. His hands absentmindedly kneaded at your flesh, sliding from your chest down to the curve of your waist, palming at your ass, then up and over your thigh, to the round of your calf. Even the delicate swell of your ankles and the arch of your foot was not untouched, pale, elegant fingers stroking the skin and squeezing the entirety of your foot. Between the quiet of the studio and his warm hands, you barely notice the haze of dreamland drawing its veil over your eyes, or soft cushions meeting your back. You wake up to the soft click-clack of the keyboard. stretching, you watch your lover work.

One moment, you had been lounging on the studio couch— the next, plucked from it by a Jihoon that seemed to stomp in from thin air. His face, bright like the full moon, hovered directly over you, eyes meeting yours, glinting with quiet mischief. You blinked, and then you were weightless, rising, and your usually reserved Jihoon? Doing barbell curls of all things, using you as an exceptionally surprised piece of gym equipment. Usually, gym equipment did not stare at him with wide eyes and a mildly confused expression. Usually, gym equipment did not fist his shirt and cling to him. Usually, gym equipment was not this fucking adorable. What was Woozi to do with you, other than to set you on his cock and show you his new hip thrust PR?

Dokyeom gave Seungcheol and Hoshi a run for their money when it came to sheer clinginess, what with how you're folded into his side all the damn time. He's forever squishing you into his broad chest, arms and legs thrown around you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Rarely would you get to cuddle him back, because he seemed to have made it his life mission to bring any straying limbs back to your body and make you as compact as possible. Slender, long fingers wrap around your delicate wrists and pin them down, with seemingly little effort, but you can't move an inch. Forget being a plushie— you act as his living, breathing body pillow, always warm to the touch. Your skin? Free real estate. His hands are always roaming, cupping the curve of your tit, pinching your nipples and tugging until you arch against him. Further down, squeezing the softness of your stomach and pinching the narrowest part of your waist. Further, and he's stroking your thighs almost reverently, higher and higher until his palm is flush against your cunt, and he pets that too. It seemed like sacrilege to call it dirty, sexual; the slow drag of his finger against your clit was worship, your whimpers hymnal, your pleasure his offering. The scrunch of your face when you come is enlightenment to him. When he flips you over and pins you underneath him, Dokyeom can't help but think you're his own miniature goddess stolen straight from the altar, come to life and flushed and demanding under his reverent hands. When he's through with you, after carefully shaping your body into his, pressing you down into the mattress, bouncing you on his hips, drinking and eating from you until he can finally call himself somewhat sated, he cleans you like a devotee, presses his forehead against your sweat-damp stomach, and breathes you in, more fragrant than any incense.

You are Seventeen's doll, and Mingyu is their housewife. That's why he's always setting you on the counter next to him while he cooks, lovingly feeding you the first bite by hand. You looked so fragile to him like this, his oversized shirt falling off your shoulder, riding up your thighs, exposing impossibly soft skin. While dinner cooks, he spreads you on the counter as his appetizer, licking at you until you're begging him to let up, to give you a break. He finds your thrashing impossibly cute, how your thighs can't close around his shoulders, your helpless crying because it's too much for your little body to handle. It's so easy to manhandle you into whatever position he wanted, to hold you up and against him while he fucks into you. Some days, when he has too much energy, when practice and working out and taking care of others weren't enough, he would lift you up into the air and take you like that, your feet dangling off the floor. Out of everyone, you were the most doll-like with him, limp in his muscled arms while he uses you to his heart's desire. It had taken you so long to take him fully, needing days of prep before the first time. Days of him holding you down while he fingers you open, the pads of his fingers flush and rubbing against the soft, sensitive spot in you that your fingers could never reach by themselves. Days of Seventeen surprising you in the middle of the day by pushing a toy into you and forcing you to warm it. Days of Mingyu easing in inch by inch, making you come with each one, until you could finally, finally take his cock, flushed with pleasure and fullness and the endless praise spilling from his lips.

Minghao loves aesthetics. He asks you sit with him during his tea ceremonies, noting your perfect posture and neatly folded legs with an approving gaze. Everyone else is always bending you in half, but Minghao appreciates the neatness of your movement, the straight, elegant lines of your body, even in the mundane everyday— writing at your desk, molding the shape of your figure against one of his brothers', the swish of your skirt around your legs when you walked. It was in the smallest details to him— the tendons shifting under your hand, the stretch of an affectionate arm, the gentle arc of hipbone, the arch of your back off the bed when you come undone underneath his lips, his fingers, his cock. As far as Hao was concerned, this beauty was all the more perfect bound in cherry red rope, crisscrossing the narrow of your wrists and waist, digging into the fat of your hips and thighs. He spends hours with you in his studio, entwined together under warm afternoon sunlight, testing different patterns across your torso while your head leans against his chest. Every day was something different— arms tied to your ankles one day, calves and thighs bound together, forcing you to kneel, once tied to him while straddling him on a chair. The boundaries between his own touch and the bite of rope blurs, until the pinch of rope and the nip of teeth are one and the same.

You often called Seungkwan your "adorable boo bear", complete with holding up strands of his hair into fluffy bear ears. And indeed, he looked like a cartoon baby bear with his big eyes and clingy, soft tendencies. Evenings with him were always spent with you straddling him on the couch, your face buried in the crook of his neck, arms wrapped around each other, breathing the other in. He cared for you in a way that was softer, warmer, care which seeped in through your pores until you glowed from the inside out. Beyond nagging you to eat and drink water 2982139 times a day, he fetched you meals himself, held bottles to your lips, and scolded your ear off. When you were on his lap, however, the praise was endless. He didn't fuck— he rolled his hips into yours slowly, hands grasping yours, pinning both of you down, kissing the planes of your face slack from pleasure. It wasn't a powerplay like with the others, either. His hands are exceedingly gentle on your skin, holding you close, and closer, trying to merge the two of you together. Your own hand stroked his round cheek, resting soft against your palm. You were his doll and he was your boo bear, and that's all that mattered sometimes.

Vernon is the most peaceful of them all, never given to throwing you around like the others (or gnawing at you like Hoshi). It's simply enough to share company, and occassionally, cat reels. He holds you as casually as he does his phone, manspreading on the couch and setting you on his lap, wide hand palming the fat of your ass. The unspoken order—grind—hangs in the air, and you obediently oblige, pushing your hips against the seam of his pants, head falling into the perfect curve of his neck. He captures your lips with his, a soft, slick meeting. Unhurried, calm, like everything else was with him. He wasn't particularly inclined to pin you down and fuck you senseless (not that it didn't happen), but enjoyed the pressure of you on him, the gentle press of your hands against his chest. Afterwards, the two of you fall asleep together, hand in hand, space between your bodies like open fields ready for sowing.

Chan thinks you're the cutest ever, especially when snuggled up on his chest. He also thinks you're the cutest ever when you're overwhelmed and half dazed, making adorable little faces of pleasure and unable to speak from overstimulation. He likes making you whine into his neck and chest when his wandering hands squeeze a little too hard at your waist, ass and tits. Chan was always using his strength to his advantage, knowing it drove you insane, grinning cheekily when it did. Your pleasure was his, and he carved that knowledge in your mind until you knew it better than you knew yourself. Eye contact is a must for him, to the point where he stops moving if your eyes fall shut from the pleasure. His favourite activity? Placing you on one strong thigh, supported only by your entwined hands, and forcing you to grind and look at him until you're sobbing into his shoulder from exhaustion and frustration. His pants are soaked through, but you still couldn't find completion, needing more from him. Chan loved the desperate tears tracking down your face. Once he takes over, you wish you did it yourself— he's relentless, bouncing you on his thick thigh until you're cross-eyed and stupid from how good it feels. He keeps going, long after you've turned completely limp, using your body to vent his energy out. Afterwards, he collapses next you, and spoons you until you both fall asleep and wake up again, though you are significantly worse for wear. It's hard to stay mad when he flashes that boyish smile at you, with sweet kisses and promises of food.

a/n pt 2: if you see me post more fics with the same themes no you don't

feel free to ask if you want to see more from this universe (ot13 or member specific) because I have MULTIPLE scenarios that I haven't included here. Both fluff and smut reqs are accepted!

please send me asks/feedback/criticism/dms I do not bite

[wcnderlnds]

opposites attract | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he's chaotic and loud, you're shy and introverted but he can't help but be intrigued by you ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death bc squid game, nam-gyu is mean to reader (im sry), female reader. ・❥・ authors note: i love writing this chaotic man <3

Of course the second game just had to be one where you had to interact with people and find a team. Talking to people, approaching them – it was your worst nightmare. As you stood there in the sea of people all talking and teaming up, you timidly stayed in place, your hands pulled into the sleeves of your jacket giving yourself sweater paws. Since the first game, you had kept to yourself. You had even voted to leave. Why would anyone want to stay in a place like this where people were getting killed for losing children’s games? Unfortunately, the majority had decided to stay even after a heavily heated debate where player 456 had declared he’d been here before. While it was all kicking off, you had hid behind the crowd. Conflict was something you avoided. People were usually something you avoided but when a salesman came up to you with promises of money, how could you say no?

So, as you stood there, too shy to approach, you accepted the fact that you were probably going to die. There was no way you had enough courage in you to find a team. Even if you did, who was there to ask? The only person you might consider approachable was player 456 but he already had a team. There was no point going over there, asking and risking embarrassment as they turned you down. Aimlessly you wandered around the room, fingers toying with the ends of your sleeve – a nervous habit that you’d had since you were a child.

Guess you’d just have to accept your fate. You were either going to get killed because you couldn’t find a team or end up in a team who didn’t want you. Just as you were about to sit down and give up entirely, someone cleared their throat behind you. Spinning around, you came face to face with the infamous player 230. His purple hair was unmistakable, you’d seen him when he’d been fighting some other boy yesterday.

“Senorita, excuse me,” he said, his hands clenching his jacket to his chest. Your eyes landed on his multi-colored nails first before daring to glance up to look at him. Eyes met his dark ones for only a second before looking back down at the ground. He noticed instantly, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “Team with us.”

“R-really?” You dared to glance back up. He seemed serious but the look his friend was giving was anything but friendly. It looked like he’d rather team with anyone but you.

“Yeah, really? She’s kind of weird,” Nam-gyu looked you up and down, pulling a face then turning back to Thanos. “We can find someo-”

“Shutup,” he held his hand up in front of his friend’s face, his eyes solely focused on you. “Team with us. I’ll keep you safe.”

It wasn’t like you had any other options so you nodded. Thanos seemed thrilled, throwing his arm around your shoulders in a side hug. Your instinct was telling you not to trust him but at the same time there was something slightly comforting about him. After all, he had ignored his friend to solely talk to you. Why on Earth he was so adamant to have you on his team baffled you but it saved you from getting eliminated… if you made it through the game anyway. 

Turns out it was five mini games in one. As the rest of your team argued about who would do what, Thanos’ eyes were fixated on you who was looking at the ground. There was something about you that intrigued him. The difference in your personalities was more than noticeable. He was loud, crazy and obnoxious while you, on the other hand, seemed shy, insecure and quiet. Maybe it was true. Maybe opposites really did attract because for some reason, he wanted to get to know you more. He actually wanted to know you. That rarely happened with him. Usually he was the type of guy to get a crush, fuck and then move on to the next one. It was rare for ‘Mr One Night Stand’ to really want to get to know someone. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. The pounding in his chest as he tried to examine you with his eyes. It was impossible to really get a good read on you.

“And, the loser over there can do Gonggi,” Nam-gyu’s voice echoed through your ears. Panic struck, you leaned forward, speaking before you even thought about it.

“I-I don’t know how to play Gonggi,” you mumbled.

“Better learn quickly then, huh?” Nam-gyu smiled fake-sweetly at you.

“Hey, stop it,” Thanos stopped his silent beat boxing to chime in, leaning forward to glare at his friend. “Leave her alone… What are you good at?”

“I can do spinning top. I played it a lot with my friends…” you tried to speak with a bit more confidence, a pink hue tinting your cheeks. Thanos noticed, grinning at you.

“Spinning top for you then. You’re cute, by the way,” he winked, causing your cheeks to only redden more.

Somehow, someway, the team had managed to survive. A lot of teams seemed to struggle with Spinning Top but you had got it the first try – Thanos almost blowing out your eardrums with the loud cheer of celebration when you did. Now, back in the main room, you were sat with the team. If it was up to you, you would have gone to sit by yourself but Thanos had insisted you sit with them. It seemed like he wanted to keep you around. It wouldn’t be too bad to have some friends, right? You sat beside Thanos, a space between you. While he was in a world of his own, DJing some invisible show in his head by the looks of his hand motions, the rest of the team were arguing. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them.

Watching everyone talk with each other so easily – even if it was arguing – made you feel slightly jealous that you couldn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to because you did but the mere thought of striking up a conversation with anyone brought you too much anxiety. It was just better to keep to yourself. If you had to be the weird, quiet girl then so be it.

“They’re idiots,” the deep voice beside you said. Turning to look, you’d noticed Thanos had closed the distance between you both, his shoulder touching yours now. “You good?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you smiled, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for letting me team with you.”

“No problem, Senorita. Told you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” His toothy grin made your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. That was the last thing you needed.

“Y-yeah,” you laughed, tearing your eyes away from him yet again.

This time, his finger gently reached out, tilting your chin to look at him. His eyes pierced yours, a look of intrigue on his face. “You have pretty eyes. It’s a shame you think the floor deserves to see them more than me.” He leaned in a little closer, his hot breath fanning against your face. Being close to someone wasn’t new for you. It was something that didn’t happen often but you’d had your fair share of encounters with people. “Meant it when I said you were cute, babygirl. Stick with me through these games and when we survive, let me take you out for a drink. Maybe I can get more than a few words at a time out of you.”

Once again, he winked at you, removing his finger from your chin and turning his attention to the argument going on in front of him. Meanwhile you were in a daze, your heart beating against your chest so much you were sure it was about to beat out of your ribcage. Yeah, this man was definitely going to be trouble.

taglist: @angelofbooksworld @ldydeath @taivantaylor @sherlocke3d @djarindroid @justsisse @sassyyoyo @lillyysgirlblog @mysatnin @basquiat-top @urmomsg1rlfreind

[lyrefromthesea]

Please could I request all the hashira being in denial that they have a crush on hashira!reader. I hope you’re having a wonderful day 💙💙💙

Male pillars x Reader - Denial is a thing

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

type 1 - i don't have enough time for romance, meaning it doesn't exist.

he is the type of person who is fully obligated to his duty. saving people and taking care of others has gotten natural to him.

the demon slayers of lower rank have come to trust him, look up to him, he couldn't disappoint them. he knew how it was to be scared, now he needed to take away the fear others felt.

naturally, he didn't understand why he found his attention shift, suddenly not thinking of his mission anymore.

yet nothing was different, he got a mission assigned, another slayer joined him, you both tried to defeat the demon.

that's right, you.

you were different, you were the thought occupying his mind. he thought it was fine at first, but when he got distracted during the fight, he realized just how severe the connection to you could be.

he would try to keep your relationship professional, strictly related to work, but he couldn't stop himself from learning more about you while you took care of his wounds.

...Gyomei, Rengoku

type 2 - i don't even know what happened, this can't be true.

this was stupid, utterly and absolutely stupid. in no world was it possible for him to fall in love with you.

..right?

you were a nice person, someone he could rely on. fear was evident on your face when the situation got severe, but you pushed through, because you wanted to save the people around you - even him.

he didn't understand, you weren't a hashira, yet you fought with the same determination. he tried to understand, listened to your explanation.

"i can't rely on you just because you're strong, the people who chose this life decided to fight until it's over."

he felt his heart throb right at that moment, heartbeat speeding up drastically. never in his life had he heard another person talk like this.

yes, he couldn't understand how this happened.. or maybe he just didn't want to.

...Obanai, Tengen

type 3 - i will never love again, otherwise i'll lose you too.

what makes him special is not the fact that he's denying his feelings for you, it's how he copes with it.

he wasn't stupid, of course he realized something was different when he felt his cheeks flush or how he accidentally stuttered when he tried to talk to you.

the realization hit him like a brick, immediately excusing himself, trying to never talk to you again.

he knew how this would go. he fell in love with you, he stayed by your side and like everyone else, you'll be taking away from him. it's always that way. it'll always be that way.

it's not like he couldn't stay away, he was used to being alone. other people didn't necessarily talk to him, he would just go back to his old life.

only that it was much harder this time. how come he would always run into you? not only that, but somehow he got paired up on missions with you too.

he cursed himself, nothing about this worked like he had wanted it to.

and when you silently brushed your hand against his, eventually bringing yourself to interlock your hands, he knew he had ultimately failed to stay way.

not that he cared a few months later, when he could wake up to your sleeping body next to his.

...Sanemi, Giyuu

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining having spent the night with a lover who isn't in the 141, only to wake up the next morning and there's in intervention waiting for you in the rec room.

Like, at first you're just confused. But when Price opens his mouth to ask you about how you slept...you have a bit of a meltdown. Why does it matter? Why is everyone staring at you? What's going on?

Soap grabs the collar of your t-shirt and pulls it down so everyone can get a look at the dark hickies dotting your neck. You slap his hand away, tears in your eyes.

"So all of you can do whatever you want? Sneak bitches on base and fuck around at all the bars we pass through! But I'm not allowed to do anything with someone I actually like?!"

It hurts. It feels like you're being stripped bare in front of them.

Price sighs, his gaze softens. It's obvious he doesn't want to have this conversation but something you've done has given him no choice. Soap just stands a few feet away, chest puffed out, eyeing you with a strange annoyance. You know if you try to leave he'll stop you.

"You are...not in the same position as us." Price tries and winces. He's obviously not putting his thoughts into soft enough words, but he continues. "You are...it is our responsibility to keep you safe."

"Safe? You're trying to keep me safe?" Your voice is raised higher than you've ever raised it at Price. "Safe by what? Fighting off all the guys at the bars? Safe by spreading lies about me to all of the PMCs and the other Task Forces?"

Price just closed his eyes and set his jaw. He had to know about the subterfuge you'd been experiencing for well over a couple years now. Everyone in the room was guilty as charged.

"You're and asset. And you're also a liability." Ghost speaks up, eyes narrowed, stance way too relaxed against the metal folding chair he sits in. "Do you remember what happened to the 7th Division?"

Saliva pools in your mouth, a sudden queasiness filling your stomach. Yeah, of course you remembered. Their beloved medic had been kidnapped by a group of angry drug lords using a mercenary group as their muscle. The 7th Division had gone in guns blazing to get their member back and well...they'd been wiped out. And their star medic they'd sacrificed everything for? She'd been brainwashed and inducted into the very agency that stole her away.

KORTAC

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You mutter. "Please tell me you're not."

"We can't have you fraternizing with anyone." Price states smoothly. "As our medic, you have a responsibility to us, your team. We can't have you getting caught up in something bigger."

"I understand what you're saying, but can't you see how ridiculous this is?" You try to reason. "I'm human, I have- god this is embarrassing. I h-have wants and...needs, just like you guys."

The silence is loud. You can't meet anyone's gaze. Price steps closer to you, swallowing hard. His next few words are spoken softly, conspiratorially.

"All of your needs will be taken care of. We will never let you suffer by yourself."

Price cocks his head to the men before you both. All of them straighten beneath his gaze. Price places a hand on the small of your back.

"Whatever it takes." He commands them. "I better not hear or see anything. Do I make myself clear?"

A trio of "yessirs" bounce off the white walls. Price just smiles and nods. He pats your back.

"There we go. You'll be fine." He sighs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to your guest."

Your eyes widen, your throat drops into your stomach.

"Wait!"

"We've got ye, Bonnie. You n' all yer needs."

Six hands are on you from several different angles. Their massive frames block out the fluorescent lights.

"Ah, where are you goin'?" Gaz chuckles, his arm wraps around your belly.

You try to run after Price but the rec room door is slammed shut and locked. You try to push the closest man away, but he just grins down at you.

[endofthelinegang]

the things we don't say

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  john walker x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  based on the prompts "don't go on that date." "why?" "you know why." "say it." 

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  cursing

use this magical link to pick your favorite marvel character and send in a request :)

The zipper trembles slightly between your fingers as you pull it up. Not because your hands are shaking—at least not much—but because you’re second-guessing the decision you made twenty minutes ago. The jacket is soft, tan suede, something you haven’t worn since before the Thunderbolts—back when “casual” didn’t feel like an act of rebellion. Underneath is a black camisole that clings just enough to make you feel alive again. Real. 

You told yourself it wasn’t for him.

But in the mirror, you can’t ignore the way you check your profile—your hair tucked just right, your collarbones exposed, the gloss on your lips just a touch shinier than usual. Your fingers linger at your throat for a second too long, brushing against the delicate chain necklace you threw on without thinking. A gift to yourself. A piece of the old you.

The door creaks behind you. The energy shifts instantly. You don’t need to look. You already know who it is. That same low, smoldering pressure that always coils at the base of your spine when he’s near.

John Walker.

You can see him in the mirror before he speaks. He’s leaning in the doorway like he owns it—broad shoulders tense, one hand gripping the frame just tight enough for the knuckles to go white. He’s in black tactical gear, sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms like he was either coming from training or looking for an excuse to fight. His hair is a mess, you knew he had been messing with it. His eyes are already on you. Not just watching—reading.

“You going somewhere?” he asks, voice casual—but the kind of casual that cuts, his shoulder was pressed into the doorframe, his body completely blocked up the space. 

You smooth your hands down the front of your jacket, mostly to keep yourself busy or at least to look busy. If you didn’t there was just the smallest chance you wouldn’t go anywhere. “Yeah. Civvies. Off base. Crazy, I know.”

He moves closer landing his feet on the ground from where one leg had been crossed over the other, a slow step that echoes across the floor. “With who?”

You shrug, not turning yet. You want to make him wait and you do not wanna give him the idea that his presence would affect anything. “Someone who asked.”

In the mirror, you catch the flicker in his jaw. That’s where it always starts with him—just a little tension that spreads like cracks through ice. He blinked and looked to the window before looking back at you. He knew you were making a dig, and man was he happy you did because it was giving him a reason to dig back. 

“Right,” he mutters, his tone shifting. “Let me guess—one of the new handlers? The guy who can't even clear a sidearm properly?” 

You turn now, slowly, facing him with your arms folded. A casual stance, but defensive. You catch the way his eyes drop—not to be disrespectful, but because he’s scanning. Reading your body, your outfit, the way the light hits your collarbone. His gaze lingers at your neckline a second too long before he tears it away. All that did was anger him more, not even he deserved to have you dress up to go do something with him let alone some other idiot. 

“You been spying on me now, Walker?” you ask, your voice cool, laced with something sharper. You knew he was, he had been for a while. At first it was to figure out what you liked and what he could be doing for you that would be considered little gestures. The biggest issue was that John had a hard time making up his mind on what to do about you. So he would go back and forth between bringing you lunch and organizing your laundry in its basket to not talking to you at all. Which is one of the biggest things that led you to this situation. 

He shrugs. That signature Walker arrogance, but there’s no real heat in it. Only frustration. “Just observant.”

You tilt your head, the corners of your mouth twitching. What hurt you was that you knew that he knew how you felt about him in some way. If he didn’t he would’ve never done any of the nice things he had been doing.  “No, you’re being a dick.”

He stiffens. The smirk disappears like you flipped a switch.  “I’m just wondering when you started going for guys who talk big and fall apart the second they’re in the field.”

You step closer, boots scuffing against the tile. “You don’t know him.”

“And you do?” he bites back. “What—he bought you a drink and suddenly he’s worth your time?”

You flare at that. Your fingers tighten around your arms, gripping your own skin like it’ll keep you from lunging. “What’s your problem, John?”

He’s silent, but his eyes are screaming. That unreadable expression cracks at the edges—his jaw clenched, shoulders rising and falling like he’s trying to keep himself from exploding. He takes a step forward, then another. The air between you grows thick, electric. You can smell the faint scent of cedar from his cologne, cucumber from shampoo, and mint from where he must have brushed he teeth , something grounded. 

“My problem is you’re going out with some paper-pusher while we’re still knee-deep in this Thunderbolts circus and pretending like it’s normal.” He was sounding meaner and meaner the more he talked, his tone was rough and his volume was rising. 

You hold your ground, you knew that he could be mean it was no shocker. “You’re right. It’s not normal. None of this is. But that doesn’t mean I have to sit around waiting for someone who doesn’t say what he means.”

That hits harder than you mean it to. You see it in his eyes. The wounded flash behind the blue. His hands flex at his sides—twitching, like he’s resisting the urge to reach out and grab you or punch the wall behind you. His chest is heaving and he is tapping his left foot slowly on and off like he can’t stand to be in his own skin.  He steps closer quickly, if you didn’t know any better you would think you were about to be attacked. He was now close enough that the fabric of your sleeves brushes with every breath. Close enough that if either of you moved an inch forward, you’d be touching.

And at that moment, he hated himself a little.

Not for wanting you—but for waiting this long. For letting mission after mission bury whatever this thing between you was. He told himself it was about professionalism, about keeping a clear head. But really, it was fear. Because the second he let himself want you, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And guys like him? They don’t get the girl. They get grief, and consequences, and orders they don’t question. But watching you walk out that door tonight—for someone else—feels worse than any battlefield he's crawled off of.

The amount of control he was using was insane, his skin was turning red from being so angry and he was using his left hand to fidget just a bit. He doesn’t let himself touch you. So he speaks instead.

And then—

“Don’t go on that date.”

The words are barely above a whisper, but they punch the air out of your lungs. You are completely still, you are the deer in front of the car. You saw the sadness in his eyes, the desperation that sat there. This was not his forte, it never really was. The only girls he had dated before his ex-wife were just with him because of his physique or just to brag that they were with someone clean cut. At first he minded and really wished he could find something, anyone to be real. But eventually he fell into the game of who gives a fuck lets just have some fun. But when he looked at you he felt like that teenager again, the one who really did want something, anything real. 

You just blink. “What?”

His eyes don’t leave yours. His voice doesn't shake, but there's a quiet desperation laced through every word. He was above crying, at least he told himself that but he was not above begging at this moment. “Don’t go.”

You should walk past him. You should be the one who doesn’t break. He had done this to himself, you did nothing but show him kindness back when he graced you with his. In fact you had been the one who was constantly trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you. But the crack is already spreading. That part of you that had been trying to put the pieces together was still very curious. 

“Why?”

His lips part. His brows pull together just slightly. He looks at you like a man who’s spent weeks on the edge of a cliff, finally realizing the fall might be worth it. He moves his hands from his sides to put them on your waist but before he can he puts them right back. 

“You know why.”

That’s not enough. Not anymore. You need to hear him say it. He was not going to get away with just leaving things so broad that it could be taken as anything, this was all or nothing. 

“Say it,” you whisper.

The tension breaks like a snapped wire. His shoulders sag an inch, just enough to betray the weight he’s been carrying. The eye contact was unbearable. He hoped you could not see what he was feeling, but if you could he was hoping that nervousness was not one of those things. 

“Because he’s not me.” John was looking down at you, his eyes practically begging you to say something. But you had to see that he was being honest, that what he said was not some mean joke. 

Your throat tightens. Your hands curl, unsure whether to reach for him or shove him away. The silence that follows isn’t empty—it’s heavy. Charged. Like the moment before a lightning strike. The corner of your kip was now underneath the weight of your teeth. All of a sudden your clothes felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds and were hot as hell. And still, neither of you moves because the ball is in your court. Normally he would not care nor would he respect that but this was different. This was not the same shit he could usually pull. 

“John—”

It comes out quieter than you meant. Like the sound got stuck in your throat on the way out. Barely a breath, just enough to reach him. He flinches. You would’ve missed it if you weren’t watching him so closely—the way his shoulders twitch, the way the line of his jaw tightens under the weight of that one syllable. Your voice, soft and uncertain, wrapped around his name like it means something. Like it still means something.

His eyes close for half a heartbeat. You catch the flash of restraint in his face like a wave crashing through him and barely receding. He exhales through his nose, slow and rough, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re burning. Not angry. Not wild. Wounded.

He’s standing there like a man carved out of stone—but you see the cracks. In his silence. In his knuckles, where his fingers twitch against the fabric of his pants like he’s desperate for something to hold onto. In the way he’s biting down on the inside of his cheek, hard, like he’s punishing himself for letting the words out at all.

You know what this is costing him.

You know what it takes for John Walker to admit that he feels anything.

And maybe that’s why your chest aches as you stand there, heat crawling up your neck like shame and hope are fighting for space beneath your skin. You shift your weight, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your boots scuff on the tile, the way your jacket feels too tight across your chest now, the way your lip is still caught between your teeth.

You want to ask him why now. Why not two weeks ago, when you sat next to him on that rooftop and the air between you had been just as electric, just as close, and he said nothing. Why not that night in the common area, when your knees brushed and he looked at you like he might say something real, then didn’t?

But you don’t ask.

Because you’re afraid of the answer.

And because right now, the way he’s looking at you—like you’re a decision he’s been avoiding for too long—it feels like he’s trying to make up for all of it in this one impossible moment.

He shifts his stance again, but he still doesn’t reach for you. His hands twitch at his sides—useless, hesitant, undone. He’s never looked more dangerous. And he’s never looked more unsure.

The silence after is louder than the words.He waits. Not breathing. Not blinking. Like he’s on a wire, waiting to be pushed. And you don’t know what you’re going to do next. You don’t know if you’re going to take a step forward or tear the door open and leave. Because there’s something in your chest clawing its way out. A scream. A sob. A kiss.

And then—

There’s a knock.

Sharp. Urgent.

Your head snaps toward the door.

His eyes follow.

Neither of you moves.

A voice calls your name from the other side.

John’s jaw sets. You see the walls go back up behind his eyes—fast, brutal, practiced. His fists clench, and for the first time in the whole damn conversation, he looks away.

You take a breath, ready to say something—

But the door handle starts to turn.

And you’re both still standing there.

Too close.

Too quiet. Too late.

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, | rex sloan 'splode' x gender neutral reader

love mail — PLEAASE please rex sloane be famous IM BEGGINg this took me like an hour but it's so long i'm actually surprised i committed to it. !!( ; ﾛ)ﾟ ﾟguys.. .. please... my efforts for my alive husband.. MAJOR S3 SPOILERS ! angst too oops, not proofread sorri !

wc : 2.2k

the three times rex sloan broke your heart.

rex sloan, or splode, one or the other — depending on how much he liked you, was a man that many knew for his pride, ego, and utter selfishness. the living, breathing representative of a self absorbed man. you hated the fact you fell for his stupid jokes and undeniable charm, how could you not? in his words, he was irresistable, and you had to admit.. he wasn't lying.

rex had you smitten with that little smirk of his and promises of well spent 'bonding' and 'getting to know each other'. you were doomed the moment he caught on to what made you tick, and what made you flush.

the very first time he had broken your trust, was his promise to court you — to have a beautiful life with you, that your eyes were pretty, that you were his, all his. only to hear those same words as he pounds into some random woman in your apartment, to your dismay. clothes that weren't yours and ones that definitely belonged to rex are scattered all over the place, and you just feel sick.

you make sure to yell for them to get out. and your eyes burn into rex's unapologetic ones, you see that smile on his face — unashamed, uncaring. you accept your defeat, that you fell for stupid, flowery words, from a pretty face with an ugly heart. you fall to the floor when you hear the door click, wobbly knees unable to hold you up for any longer as you sob; heart screaming at you for allowing yourself to be betrayed like this — when you knew you should have been smarter, wiser. not fall to something as stupid as love.

dealing with him around the base was your worst nightmare. he was fine; same insufferable jerkbag, while you cried and cried for days on end. where your body felt used, and your heart strings being tugged so tightly, you were afraid your fraile organ would burst. you knew one thing for sure, rex splode — was a man beyond redemption, beyond saving, and beyond forgiveness.

you dealt with seeing his face all the time, pissing you off, the team off, and being the same arrogant asshole he always was. you scold yourself for ever thinking he was anything different, for all the times he confided in you, and you him, for all the times your connection was more than cheap sex — was revealed to be nothing. hell, you wouldn't even be surprised if the cheap sex was all rex cared about. fuck that guy. (not literally, enough of that.)

the second time was weird. because you never even took him back — but after his.. haunting battle with king lizard that damn near killed him, the team did everything they could to keep him alive. at the cost of him needing to be bedridden for a while, unconcious, barely breathing.

you don't know why you even bothered to visit. you used to fight the urge to bash his face in, but seeing him so.. still, perhaps even peaceful.. you come to wonder how anyone was able to tame that fire he so naturally burned with. you made regular visits with mark, his best friend. and the way he talked about rex, made you remember the version of him you understood him as. for all his spunk and bite, he was still a man. a man who just wanted to be loved; for reasons unbeknownst to you at the time, as his past left him feeling unwanted.

you pitied him, almost. nothing can excuse cheating, nothing — but still.. you can never really get rid of the affection you held for someone. in the back of your head, like a virus that won't go away, it stays.. even if you can't see it, you definitely feel it.

things got worse when he woke up, because you don't know why — or how — but he just.. got better. scoffs and sneers turned to smiles and greetings, brushed off attempts at small talk became check ups on his health, and for the first time in the longest time.. your heart softened for him. you felt the familiar ache of your heart whenever he was around, but not one of hatred, but instead of.. yearning. oh no. your feelings for him coming back a second time around was not welcomed.

you didn't know how to feel on the night rex asked to see you at the roof of your apartment complex, and you didn't know what you were thinking when you agreed to meet. your footsteps feel heavy as you walk the stairs to the very top, and when you open the door — there he is. you expected the whole hero get-up, it was like the only thing he wore.. but no, just a shirt and plain pants while he leaned against a short wall, his back turned as he looked over to the city below. weird, you noted, but rex splode was always weird. and annoying, and insufferable, and —

"you ever think about what it's like?"

you snap out of your thoughts — surprised to hear such softness in his voice. it was almost believable, you scoffed mentally, even if you two were on better terms, you remained cautious. but nevertheless, you walk towards him, standing by his side with crossed arms. "what are you getting at?" you mumbled, an unintentional bite in your tone as rex chuckled, all too familiar with it.

"you know, what it means to be more than a hero — something more than a masked figure that saves lives, lives that are the reason i can only wonder what it must be like to.." his voice trails off, but you're understanding the direction this conversation is going.

you opened your mouth to continue his sentence, the previous snark disappearing. "be happy, truly, and unapologetically happy." you finished, turning your head to search his face for confirmation of her assumption of his words. his bittersweet smile speaks volumes.

he then asks; "you know my last name? like, for real." laughing at the question, you answer without thinking. "splode. it's stupid, rex splode — explode —"

"sloan."

your laugh slowly dies down, blinking at the realization. "my full name is rex sloan." rex, for the first time in.. ever, looks vulnerable. and all of a sudden, you recall just exactly why you were always so captivated by those eyes of his.

the talk extends for a couple hours, some tears are shed, unsaid words were finally shared, and a single promise was made.

"i promise," rex's hand makes it's way to your cheek, soothing your sniffles as the other pulls you close by the hip. a gesture you once recognized as rex wanting something physical, but there was more to this.. something emotional, a connection beyond desire and lust. "—that i'll be better. i'll fix what i broke back then, when i was spoiled, a big brat.. and that i'll be a good man for you. for all the hurt i caused, i'll try to heal tenfold. i'll be more than.. rex splode, i'll be yours." he whispered, leaning in close and brushing his nose against yours, a form of sweet affection.

and at those words, you leaned in to kiss him. a seal, one could say, to his oath of change. and since rex was staring at your lips all night, being on his very best behavior, he appreciated the reward. "you know.." he mumbled against your lips, smiling. "for once in my shitty life, i think i'm actually content." a laugh escapes him, and you practically swallow it with the way he just.. can't, won't pull away from you. "it's kinda worth living if it's with you."

but nothing could be greater than his relief that you forgave him. that the man you found to be so repulsive and conniving, was worth forgiving. and you will never know how much that meant to him. how much you meant to him.

the third, and very last time rex had broken your heart, was the invincible war.

the team was sent to deal with an invincible variant, no biggie! rex was joking about how excited he was to kick his best friends ass, and you laugh.. the war was hard, after all. with so much destruction, some humor doesn't hurt.

you wish you told him to not underestimate the enemy, to have a high guard.. because maybe, maybe you could've stopped this.

monster girl and rudy are safe, they had long fleed the bridge and now it was just you and rex. beaten, bloodied, and bruised.. but together. rex had taken so many more hits, for you and the others more than anything else. the gash in his side is still dripping blood and you feel sick at the sight. you can't win this, you won't win this.

your thoughts are disturbed by the hardest hit you'll likely ever take if you make it out of here alive, slamming you into a wall, knocking the wind out of you. "agh—.." trying to get up serves impossible, every inch of your body is screaming for you to stand, but the building shakes with each explosion rex throws at gogglesible — and all you can do is helplessly watch as your boyfriend, the love of your life, still tries to fight a battle he knows he's lost.

your one good eye widens at the sight of gogglesible getting the upper hand, grabbing rex by the throat — chokes and curses of struggle escaping his lips. "when i'm done with you, it'll be your dumb little partner next. right after they watch you get torn to shreds, limb by limb, with nothing left of you to mourn." the variant spoke coldly, his grip on rex's neck tightening with every second.

you watched helplessly, tears brimming in your eyes as you catch rex's gaze. even as he struggles, he's still got his eyes on you, so loving, full of nothing but adoration. so that's when you know somethings wrong — because for all the love you have for him, you know he wasn't the type to become sappy in the middle of battle. not unless —

that's when you're forcing yourself to move. grabbing onto the wall as you don't notice the way he reaches into his aforementioned gash, too focused to getting to him before it's too late.

rex always joked about going out with a bang — oh fuck, please be some messed up joke.

"honey,"

the sound of his voice immediately makes you snap your head to him, the kindest smile is on his lips — and he's got that apologetic look in his eyes. he knows what'll happen, he just hopes you remember him fondly. not for who he was, but who he became. cause among everything else, he was grateful to become yours. that you will be the one person to remember him as rex sloan, and not the jackass the world made him be.

"make sure to look away f'me, yeah?"

three times rex broke your heart,

two times you chose to forgive —

and one whole lifetime to live without him.

you sob as you turn your head away, the sight too much to bear as the last thing you see is rex's skin beginning to glow an bright yellow hue.

"my entire goddamn skeleton, dickhead."

and then, it was over.

you wake up in a hospital bed, noticing the burn marks that cover your skin, almost mocking the experience you had only hours prior. a reminder of who you lost, permanently engraved on your body forever.

at your side, is a note; it's not anything grandiose, hell — it's crumpled and the penmanship looks half assed. but you know it all too well, rex.

hey, i'm awful at notes. don't expect sappy shit, alright? i just have a horrible feeling about the mission and, you know, no regrets. not saying somethings gonna go wrong but i just want you to know.

when i met you, i was a horrible guy. i chased nothing but my own self pleasure and ego, and i still regret it. the way you looked at me that night, i get scared of disappointing you like that again. god, i wish i wasn't writing this on some tiny notepad i stole from marks desk, but i digress.

i love you, holy fuck i love you. you're my world, my honey, my heart. you made an irredeemable scumbag a tolerable young man, and that's something to be proud of. make sure to never forget that, okay? you were the reason i stopped throwing myself into danger like i was immortal, for once i..

i would be afraid.

for the first time in my life, i was terrified of dying, and that was new — so incredibly new to me. regardless, i'm glad i get to come home to you every single night, honey. no need to be afraid of dying when i know i'll fight hard to live, and see your pretty eyes first thing in the morning.

i love you, for all your sassy remarks and shitty jokes, i love you.

i'll see you when we get back from the mission, and you'll laugh at me for making something so stupid and sappy. but you know i mean it, everything, it's always for you. all of it is for you.

— utterly yours, r. s. ♡

[suiana]

Yandere british policeman but its just this https://pin.it/713T0xSDg

(yandere! british policeman x gn! reader) (idk why you want a british man in particular but you know what it's fine) (it could've been worse, like a french man /j)

"right love, gonna need you to open the door and talk to me."

you merely stare at this... random ass man through your peephole. who the hell does this guy think he is? this is the fourth day in a row that he's showed up at your doorstep! for four days, he's delibrately taken time out of his day to show up in front of your door!

hell, he's been following you since way before! trying to pull you over on the road, yelling something about 'pulling over' or telling you to 'freeze'... you suspect it's been about a few months since this random man started showing up in your life like a damn pest.

who the hell even does that?

"go away!"

yeah nah, you're not going to let him in. no way in HELL. plus, he always shows up wearing that same weird outfit! when you first confronted him, he said he was some sort of... officer? and that what he was wearing was a uniform?

hah! imagine having to wear a uniform. he really is just a young chap playing a prank on you. how annoying, that's why you haven't opened the door for him no matter how long he spends knocking away. let him knock, maybe he'll finally get the hint and leave you alone.

"i'm going to have to break down your door if you don't open it, love. you're a person of interest in a really serious crime, you know. it'll be better if you just cooperate with us."

and there he goes again. again with his rambling and nonsense talk of breaking down your door. does he really think he has the authority to do that? nah, you'll just call the police if he does! they'll deal with him like they should!

in fact, you think you'll call the police now! have this guy arrested for harrassing you non-stop!

"if you don't leave, i'll call the police!"

silence.

"so you're scared huh? i knew it! you're just a loser-"

"darling, i am the police."

and then all of a sudden, your door fails to function properly and just falls to the floor, the hinges unhinging on itself. your jaw drops as you face the tall policeman, your eyes wide. but before you could say anything else, he starts talking about his nonsense police stuff again.

"sweetheart i'm putting you under arrest as the prime suspect of a hit and run. please turn around and put your hands against the wall."

"hey wait just a second! i never hit anybody!"

despite your protests, you couldn't really fight against the guy. not when he completely dwarfed you. not when he had huge hands and big pectoral muscles... and that ass in those tight pants... and just seeing him in his uniform... you wonder what would happen if you smacked his ass...?

but back to the problem. hit and run? bro you don't even drive! how could you be a prime suspect of a hit and run? there was only one answer.

"you're a fraud! no way a guy like you is an actual officer! i demand you let go of me until a real-"

then he pulls out an authentic looking police badge and license. no way, he was real? but... but you didn't commit a hit and run! how could this be happening?! no, no, no! get these unsexy handcuffs off!

"you're coming back with me. gonna have to discipline a criminal like you the hard way. not letting me in for four days? tsk tsk, i am so very disappointed in you, love."

wait a second!

just wait a second!

why the heck was he dragging you into a real police car?! no way! this is some big shit! you can't believe this is happening!

"come on dude! you can't seriously be-"

"yeah, you didn't actually commit any crime. i'm just using it as an excuse to bring you back to my home where i can love and adore you."

HUH????

[5sospenguinqueen]

Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done

7,956 comments

user1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!

user2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews

francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥

user3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on

user4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car

→ user1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again

→ user5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her

→ user6 he did push max in a puddle once

lilymhe @/alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff

→ alex_albon because you don't support mclaren

→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal

→ lilymhe @/YourUserName i can explain

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user7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest

user8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate

→ user9 actually it was arthur who implied that

→ user10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari p4 and p8. a strong weekend for the tifosi 💪 tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

6,459 comments

user9 i can't decide what i want to ride more

user10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team

charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag

→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje

→ charles_leclerc no excuse

→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @/YourUserName

→ charles_leclerc defamation

→ YourUserName @/lilymhe you tell 'em, bby

→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again

User 11 be still my beating heart

mclaren just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others

mclaren p3 and p5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag) tagged: YourUserName

7,321 comments

mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that

→ maxverstappen1 sickening

→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren

→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?

→ charles_ leclerc @/landonorris no

→ YourUserName @/landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie

user11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend

user12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car

liked by charles_leclerc

victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others

maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡

8,066 comments

redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france

kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on

→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰

YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys

→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does

→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke

→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me

landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen liked by YourUserName liked by charles_leclerc

danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go

→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst

→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3

→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation

→ User13 the grid seemed to have learned a new word this week

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName ik houd van je tagged: charles_leclerc

6,124 comments

charles_lecerlc je sais

→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you

→ charles_leclerc no

→ maxverstappen1 no

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris no

→ arthur_leclerc no

→ pierregasly no

→ victoriaverstappen no

→ lilymhe no

YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick

→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me

→ user14 you tell 'em, honey

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car

8,593 comments

maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮

→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this

→ maxverstappen1 block me forever

YourUserName wow, not even a tag.

→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour

→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream

→ landonorris @/charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out

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Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.

I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3

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Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY KARLACH *  assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

i can't tell if you're flirting or threatening me. i'll take either one.

don't want the youths to think i'm not, you know, up with the times.

sometimes i look at you, and i just don't have words for this feeling. you are everything i ever hoped for. everything i thought i could never have. never deserve.

i just love listening to you speak.

i know i can make you melt.

i want all of you.

i don't think i have it in me to share.

will you stay with me? when it's time.

what the fuck is happening to us?

you know, [name], i'm not sure i can trust you anymore. you're... different. a bit scary, to be honest.

i'm sweating bullets. what if i blow our cover?

it's good to see you smiling, [name].

look at you. the years have been good to you.

we're in the city on some urgent business, but can i come find you when it's all settled?

whose idea was this? was it mine? am i insane?

i'll rip your tongue out, you liar.

you can't possibly believe this shit.

what i wouldn't give for another hour together. another minute.

i can't believe you saw that. you're too young for that.

once you start, it's hard to stop.

now there's a name i'd hoped never to hear again.

this is it. i can practically taste his blood from here.

you're asking a lot. but i can wait - for a while, at least.

i don't want to put you in harm's way either. i'll wait for now.

now you're speaking my language.

sorry i haven't visited. i've been... away. but i'm back now! and i brought friends.

i miss you so much. but i'm happy. and getting up to some really important shit.

i just want to understand. i just want to know why.

the fucker has to die.

this handwriting looks familiar.

do you know what you're doing?

sorry, i think you have the wrong person.

would you believe me if I said i've got to save the city?

i love good news.

glad to see you're so well set-up here.

if we can help them, we will.

could i see your wares?

you'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right?

i wouldn't mind doing a little shopping in the city.

to have someone who cares about you and throw them away... i don't know how you do it.

sounds like more your thing than mine.

i was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically.

you're good at staying in character. i'll give you that.

i was just being nice.

what a pesthole. can't wait to clear this place out.

i smell a fight brewing.

care for a dip?

it looks good on you.

good to know love is on the table though.

how could we let this happen?

let's just keep moving. i don't want to talk.

this place is absolutely beautiful. what a wonder.

hey, can i try something on you?

my heart isn't a toy, got it? treat it like one and you're going to get burned. badly.

my heart is telling me i love you.

if i didn't know better, i'd say you're falling in love.

will you excuse me?

you'd better step away before i do something i regret.

i'm glad you chose me.

you give me chills, baby.

i'm not going anywhere. i've got plans for the future, you know. and they involve you.

to be honest, i'm kind of shocked you chose me.

if i can have you back, i've got a place for you here. cozy. warm. safe. and you can stay as long as you want.

it sounds like you really meant it.

revenge sounds so sweet until you've taken it. then all you have is... no one left to blame.

you know, for a while there, i wasn't sure you'd come back. but look at you. you've done what few could ever do - created your own path.

is it almost time for dinner?

don't tease me. my lonesome heart can't take it.

you really are the best of the best. of the best.

you know i'd do just about anything for you.

if he lays a finger on you, i'll break it off. that's a promise.

what's on your mind?

you and me. let's imagine. we have a whole life ahead of us. what do we do?

i'd love for you to show me where you came from. hear your stories. meet your people.

no moment is guaranteed. except this one. and this one. and maybe this one too.

i'm going to live. i get to be alive. i get to stay.

i've never felt better. like i'm finally complete.

and here i thought you had half a brain. how wrong i was!

i love you. and i know you'll choose your destiny, and choose it well.

you're lucky i love you.

you hear me? you're all i could ever ask for.

come on. there's something i want to show you upstairs.

i will miss you. but i wish you luck.

[m4pachesgoticos]

❛ HOW THEY ACT WHEN JEALOUS ❜

Pairing: OT8 SKZ x GN!READER

BANG CHAN ❨ Unpredictable ❩

Being the leader means Chan needs to keep himself in check. He would rather keep calm and be in a level-headed mindset when approaching anything. He usually tries to be empathetic or keep anything he feels to himself, to avoid any conflicts... but, it doesn't always work that way, especially when it comes to you. He does slip from time-to-time.

Chan has been in the music industry for a good portion of his life, so personal relationships, the ones that develop into romantics, are rare for him because of how scared he is of losing someone. In his head, you're one of the very few he's had first experiences with, and losing you would break him.

Bottling up his emotions, comes with a sense of fight or flight. So, he's unpredictable.

With emotions so intense, he will zero in on whoever is stealing your attention, as if they got a target on their back. Or, might even black out, after a series of thoughts that have turned into overthinking and there's no telling what he'll do next ── the aftermath is him feeling guilty for letting his emotions get the better of him.

Of course, he knows that you love him more than anything and would never jeopardize your relationship ( and vice versa ), which would make him feel even more guilty. With some words of affirmation and physical affection, he will slowly let go of all of the negative thoughts and get back to what really matters.

LEE KNOW ❨ Territorial ❩

Minho's mannerisms and personality are much like a cat ( what a shocker ), he's very territorial, especially when it comes to safe places he has in people close to him: the boys, his cats, and you.

He doesn't like the feeling that pools in the bottom of his stomach if he witnesses you smiling, talking, etc in the same way to others in the same way you are with him ── he also doesn't know how to show that something's bothering him, so he'll resort to being territorial.

There's no shortage of moments where he's giving you his jewelry to wear or shoving articles of clothing in your arms and playing it off as him thinking that you looked cold/hot or that your shirt had a small stain ( it didn't ). Of course, he'll excuse it off as him treating his partner as he should when you call him out. But, you both know the truth.

CHANGBIN ❨ Pouty ❩

It's no surprise that Changbin's softer than he looks. He's the king of “Don't judge a book by its cover,”. More often than not, he's a gentle person, in touch with his feminine side, and extremely pouty.

If you're busy with something or giving someone else attention, his lips will pucker slightly as his eyes look between you and whoever it may be. Doesn't matter if it's one of the boys, friend, family member, or stranger off the street: he truly wants you to be focused on him.

Being the empathetic person he is, Changbin can read people's body language, which is where jealousy comes into play. Life is mysterious, and while you both love each other, he can't help but feel somewhat insecure, especially at the thought of you wanting to be with someone who isn't in the spotlight ( even if he'd ultimately understand ).

He would need some reassurance to stray him away from the green monster trying to climb up his back, to be reminded he's your one and only.

HYUNJIN ❨ Annoyed ❩

Being an idol means dealing with negativity occasionally. Hyunjin is used to it, how to not show his true emotions and be professional. That being said: he gets extremely annoyed when someone tries to flirt with you.

He'll find it disrespectful if someone approaches you with the intention of trying to sweep you off your feet, especially if he's open with the relationship between the two of you.

Never matter how much he'd like to let his jealousy take over and call the person out, he doesn't like being that version of myself ── he would, if he's pissed off enough, kiss you right after. Long enough to make you feel breathless and brush it off as him ‘missing you’.

HAN ❨ Anxious ❩

Anxiety rules over his life. He tends to second guess himself, overthinking: performances or general life decisions. He'll spiral until he's bouncing his leg, or picking at his fingernails ── it's taken him many years to not let it have a hold on him like it does, and it's still a work-in-progress.

If and when Han comes across you, his partner, being approached by someone in more than a friendship way, he slowly shuts down. Thoughts of “they're just being friendly” to “what if I'm not good enough” start to roll in. It's a cycle that goes around and around in his head until he's close to a panic attack, otherwise becoming extremely anxious.

The aftermath has him in a daze, when you see what's happening and tend to him. The only way Han is able to come down from that is being cradled against your chest, petting his hair, while whispering sweet nothings.

FELIX ❨ Avoidance ❩

Felix is the group's embodiment of sunshine. He's not afraid to shed a few tears. From the jump, he's someone who cares about what others think, especially of him ── how you view him, means the world to him…which is why he takes an avoidance approach.

It's out of character for him to not immediately beam at the sight of you, or cling into your arm, every chance he got.

Right away, you'll be able to pick up that something's wrong. You'll glance at the corner of your eye to see him standing right beside you, hands to himself, face blank as he quietly looks between you, the person you're talking to, and the floor. There would be a certain look on his face when shifting his gaze to the opposing person, and then it'll click that he's jealous.

To let him know there's nothing to worry about, you'll be the one to initiate physical touch, by lacing your fingers with his, rubbing the back of his hand in a soothing manner. He'll perk up a little, moving a bit closer to feel your love and warmth.

SEUNGMIN ❨ Calculating ❩

He's an observant person. Another member who's skilled with hiding how he truly feels, not wanting others to have the upper hand, like he does.

It takes so much for him to let his walls down and to be vulnerable enough to fall in love with you, so imagine him when he sees someone trying to flirt with his partner ── his eye will twitch before he's calculating the person trying to impress you, jealousy seeping into his veins.

He'd watch the interaction: how you stand, talk, breathe, almost everything to catch something out of place. If you're uncomfortable ( anyone in a relationship would ), he'd clock it right away with a “Can't you see they're not into you. Read the room and get lost,”

After, you'll tease that he's such a softie for feeling some sort of way, and he'll scoff, muttering how annoying you are.

I.N ❨ Loud ❩

The youngest of the group follows in Seungmin’s footsteps, but skips to the part where he calls it out, not leaving room for jealousy to step through the door. He is also a bit dramatic, resorting to embarrassing himself and whoever's involved, but doesn't care if he's loud to prove his point.

“You see this person?! All mine!”

He isn't afraid to challenge someone, go toe-to-toe: Jeongin has always been seen as the baby, even after so many years. Sometimes it can get frustrating to have to prove himself that he isn't the young boy he was when he first started. It's more so an insecurity he's developed from the beginning.

If you're older than him, this insecurity will shine through his jealousy. He wants to prove he's man enough for you ── if you're younger, he wants to set the example that he can take care of you, not wanting to be replaced by someone else.

[toast-on-dandelioms]

What if reader accidentally called superman "dad" while they were on a mission? Like Batman needed some help tracking down some new murder cult and thought Spider could help? But they wouldn't come unless superman wasnt there since Spider does NOT trust the batfam?

Ok so, I'mma make a scene with your idea and then say what it would happen. Just to then explain how the Batfam would react.

You were called with Clark to a mission, knowing the Batfam was there but you didn't care since you knew Clark would protect you from them.

Plus you made sure to grab two tasers this time and incorporated a new type of web fluid that could emit electricity when it hits someone.

You did create it so you didn't have to use a taser but also so you could tase anyone of the Batfam that would dare to get too close to you or even touch you during the mission.

Clark finally landed while you adjusted your mask since you took it off while you were flying to feel the air in your (long/short) hair.

You looked at the batfam, already annoyed when they didn't even do anything but just their presence was a source of anger and annoyance for you.

While the Batfam was also annoyed that Clark was there but he had to come or you wouldn't even consider going with them to a mission.

You didn't say anything to them, just giving them the blank stare your mask provided and just stayed next to Clark, listening to them talk about what everyone was supposed to do in the mission.

Bruce did try to make you go with him or any of his kids, making you nervous since you couldn't really refuse without any excuse. You did have one but you can't really say "I refuse to go with any of your kids (directed to Batman) because I hate all of you".

But Clark surprised you by refusing any option of you going with any on the Bats and stated that you would go with him, making you smile a little and lean a little on the kryptonian.

Which made all of the Bats jealous and angry at the kryptonian.

At the end you were supposed to go with Superman in the hideout of the cult, which you were happy about it and quickly followed the kryptonian while ignoring the glares of the Batfam that were directed towards Clark.

Well, during the mission you got separated from Superman in the fight against the cultist when they suddenly ambushed both of you, making you panic since you never fought so many people at once.

Yes you did fight small gangs but usually they were just kids and you just had to punch one and all of them backed down immediately. So fighting a large group of people that knew how to fight was a bit difficult and extremely different from what you're used to.

Plus your panic doubled when you saw Damian and Dick approaching, probably to help you but in the fight and the panic in your mind made them seem even more dangerous than the cultists trying to stab you.

So you did the only reasonable thing that your scared mind wanted. You called for Clark while fighting three cultists at the same time, tasing a few of them while fighting.

The problem? You accidentally called him dad.

Bruce Wayne: oh god how angry was he when he heard that from Dick and Damian's coms.

(He still doesn't know who you are behind the mask but already sees you as one of your kids even though you're already are)

He quickly finished fighting the leader and ran to where you were supposed to be, quickly knocking out anyone who was in his way.

He did kill a few of those in his way, but he made sure to hide the bodies and will deal with it later by burning down the hideout.

He finally arrived at the spot where you and the others were supposed to be and he saw something that made him want to grab his kryptonite batarang to hit Clark.

Why? He saw you in Clark's arms, hugging him with all your might while he flew so neither Dick and Damian could reach you.

Plus the worst thing was the sick smile Clark had in his smile, like he planned it. Like he knew you weren't ready to go in such a big mission and would probably call him in a panic.

Bruce just glared at the kryptonian and signaled him to get out with you so they could get rid of the rest of the cultists.

Basically Bruce would be a jealous bitch even though he doesn't care about you when you don't have the mask on, and would use his anger against all the cultists there since he blamed them instead of blaming himself.

Clark Kent: oh he would be so smug whenever he sees Bruce and you're not with him.

Especially since he planned it. He might not be as smart as the Batfam but he knows people and especially you.

He knew you weren't ready for such a big mission since you mostly trained with him and fought small gangs in Gotham.

He knew you would panic while fighting and knew you would call for him when you couldn't do it anymore.

The dad part was a surprise but a happy one for Clark, he became so smug when you jumped in his arms when he quickly flew to you.

He did see the glares he received from almost all the batkids and especially Batman, to which he responded with a smug smile while rubbing your back.

He left with you since you didn't want to stay and he also knew Bruce caught the leader so he didn't have any reasons to stay.

Not sure if you also wanted the Batkids but I didn't add them, just comment if you also want to have the batkids reaction and I will add it!

[coffeewasamistake]

Billie Jean (Eddie's not the father, dude)

(read part two)

For the Mini Pride Bingo hosted by @genderthings.

[AO3]

Prompt: 90s et  Eddie Munson | Rating: T | WC: 1239 | Relationships : Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin&Eddie Munson Tags: Rock star Eddie Munson, interview, coming out

Summary:

After five albums and two tours, Corroded Coffin has made it. They're famous, they're beloved, and everyone want to interview the new metal phenomenon. But now a groupie is telling everyone she's pregnant with Eddie's child. You can't blame the guy for losing it on live TV.

The interview had barely started, and Eddie was already losing it. Corroded Coffin had made it; they were releasing album after album and everyone in the metal scene fucking loved their music. They should be talking about songwriting, their inspirations, the difficulties they had with some songs, their last album or if they were planning to go on tour soon. But no. Eddie had been on the cover of so many tabloids these last months, and, of course, that dumb excuse of a reporter had to bypass their manager’s demands and talk about the Rumor.*

“Now, we all heard the story, Eddie.” The interviewer had a smarmy smile plastered on his face, and the way he looked at Eddie was almost predatory. “So tell me, when did you first cross paths with Jessica Marsh? It must have been at a meet-and-greet, no?”

 The question brought a wave of anger amongst the members of the band.

“Listen,” Eddie hissed, “for the last time, I don’t know that girl, okay? If we did meet at some point, I have no memory of it, and her whole story is just a bunch of lies.”

“That’s understandable. You must see a lot of different people when you tour, and you’re bound to forget a few faces, even those you got really acquainted with, am I right?”

Gareth intervened. “Dude, you’re pushing it. Can we get back to the album?”

“Of course we’re gonna talk about the album, don’t worry, we are all very excited about the new music Corroded Coffin is going to offer us. With a name like Thou shalt not kill, I can already say it’s going to offend a good number of people!”

“We don’t really care if we offend people or not,” Jeff answered. “Thou shalt not kill is an accusation, a way of fighting back against all the people who had tried to take us down, to silence us. To make us disappear. We open up a lot about our teenage years in a small-minded town in the middle of nowhere, and everything we had to go through growing up. This is not a nice album, because our lives weren’t nice back then, and if people are offended, I’m telling you, they are part of the problem.”

“Well, your new album sounds even more interesting! I think we all agree here that your fans are going to love learning more about your past, and how you ended up where you are.” The interviewer stopped for a second, a predatory glint in his eyes. “But I have to wonder, Eddie, you are the one doing most of the writing, right? Surely the news of your impending fatherhood must have had an influence on your creative mind?”

“Fuck, what do you want me to do?” Eddie stood up, arms flying in the air. “Should I scream it, sing it, sign it? Do you want me to draw a goddamn diagram? What will make you understand? I did not sleep with that Jessica girl, and she’s definitely not pregnant with my child.” He plopped down on his seat, seemingly exhausted by the accusation and his own answer. “I’m not the father, period.”

It was not enough to stop the man in front of him.

“Surely, with all the groupies throwing themselves at you, you could have slept with her and forgotten about it.”

Eddie buried his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths. Then, he hit the table three times with his open palm. “Rob Halford.”

Jeff immediately threw himself backward on his chair. “Fucking finally!” He almost screamed before knocking on the table in response.

Gareth pumped his fist, Freak nodded, and both did the same knock.

The interviewer looked at them with a questioning look.

“What is happening?” he asked. “Are you having a little discussion in code? Do you have secret Corroded Coffin informations the fans should know about? A collaboration with Rob Halford, maybe?”

“Funny how you’re coming back to relevant topics now,” Eddie replied, disdain clear on his face. “No, we don’t have a collaboration planned with him, even if it would be fucking metal to work with the man. But if you want to gossip instead of talking about your music, yeah, I have something to say. Nothing everyone is entitled to know, because that’s my personal life, but clearly no one is going to drop this stupid rumor, and I’m tired of it. Do you want to know why Miss Marsh’s accusations are ridiculous?”

“Oh yeah, please, tell us everything!”

“People keep saying I’m lying about not sleeping with that girl, either because I don’t want to take responsibility for my actions or because I fucked so many groupies I don’t even remember it.” Eddie leaned over the table, his eyes staring holes in the man interviewing them. “But you know what the truth is? I never slept with any of these girls who are throwing themselves at me at the end of every concert.” 

“That’s not what I heard!”

“Yeah, well, reputations don’t always portray reality. I don’t sleep with groupies, I don’t sleep with journalists who want to gain information, I don’t sleep with hotel employees, waiters, bartenders, flight attendants or random people I meet on tour or at the grocery store. Do I have a healthy and fulfilling sex life? Yes. Do I have a list of hookups longer than the Lord of the Ring trilogy? No. I’ve been consistently fucking the same person, thank you very much.”

“You mean the famously single Eddie Munson is finally taken? Perish the thought! Your poor fans are gonna be devastated! How long has it been going on? Longer than six months? Which is, for the reminder, dear spectators, when Jessica Marsh says she has slept with our darling Eddie and fell pregnant.”

“It’s been years man. And no, I never cheated. In fact, I’m still dating the person I lost my virginity with, and I’m never planning on seeing anyone else. And last I checked, which was…” Eddie briefly looked at his watch, “Forty-eight minutes ago, my man does not have the necessary equipment to fall pregnant.” 

The journalist choked on his spit. “Excuse me? Your man?”

“Yes, my man. Cause I’m a goddam fag.” Eddie’s smile was all teeth. “You don’t like it? Deal with it, I don’t give a shit. Steve and I, we’ve been together since ’86. He gave me the inspiration for a lot of song lyrics, but most of the time I had to change the pronouns so my label would accept them.” His violent smile disappeared, leaving only tiredness behind. “Most of them still only exist on paper because being gay is apparently a crime in the music industry and my producer would not let me make a whole album about Stevie.”

Eddie buried his face in his hand and took a deep breath.

“Well,” the journalist said, “that’s not quite what we were all expecting from this interview.” He cleared his throat. “So, about that new album of yours…”

Freak’s laugh interrupted him.

“Man, you really think we’re gonna answer your questions after all that bullshit. Nah, this interview is over.” He jumped to his feet, followed by two of his bandmates. “We’re leaving.”

Gareth tugged on Eddie’s arm until he stood up with them.

The last image the journalist got of Corroded Coffin was Freak’s raised middle finger as they walked out.

[luffington]

hello i love ur works!! i hope ur doing well! :D for law can i request a law with a f!reader who doesn’t like him at all at first but has an uncharacteristic absolute soft spot for cute things (ie bepo) and he uses that to get closer to her? thank u!! ☺️

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.1k

➤ warnings: alcohol use

this is such a cute concept thank you for suggesting it!! i'm exactly like this and i wanna hug bepo so badly ᕦʕ ��ᴥ•ʔᕤ

i'm still not confident in the way i write law so i hope you like this!

Law's heart skips a beat the moment he meets you. That’s very unfortunate for him. 

His social skills are adequate at best, since his awkwardness unintentionally comes off as rudeness, but they get infinitely worse around people he’s attracted to.

Plus, you're a Straw Hat, so you're already seeing him out of his element. Luffy's (unintentional) insistence on ruining all of his carefully planned schemes leaves him perpetually frustrated, uncomfortable, and grumpy.

You frown when his voice comes out harsher than he meant it to. Roll your eyes when he gets upset at your crewmates again for doing what they always do. Mumble something snarky under your breath when the man frantically tries to get his plan back on track, somehow still not realizing that everything works out for Luffy. 

Oh, you must hate him. Law knows it. He tries to give you space to avoid making the situation worse, but that only upsets you more.

But Bepo? You’re obsessed. 

Constantly clinging onto him, rubbing your cheeks against his fur, giggling about how soft and round he is until the poor bear's snowy white face is tinted bright red.

His first mate nervously cries out "Captain!!", clearly flustered but secretly enjoying your praise. You pout, wondering why the cutest Mink you'd ever met is sticking around with an asshole like Law.

It’s not just Bepo – you love everything cute. Chopper always ends up in your lap, happily wrapped in your embrace. You feed stray cats, stop to pet every dog you see, and gush over the Tontattas in Dressrosa (especially Princess Mansherry!). Somehow, you cry more than Franky does at heartwarming stories. 

Law doesn’t understand how someone as adorable and kind-hearted as you could become a pirate. He admires your emotional vulnerability and childlike whimsy as much as he’s terrified of it. 

The poor guy can't win. He can barely talk to you like a normal person, much less have a full conversation with you. It leaves him lying awake in bed at night trying to think of something to say that doesn't make him sound like a dick. 

(Maybe he should read that book Chopper gave him – 'healthy ways to process trauma’ or something stupid like that.)

His crewmates know about his predicament, so Shachi suggests expressing his feelings in a way that doesn’t involve words. 

Law fights off embarrassment and walks into a toy store, looking incredibly out of place. He ends up picking out a black-and-white puppy plushie. (it’s Snoopy hehe)

Anxiety nearly overwhelms him while he waits for the perfect moment to give it to you. When it finally feels appropriate to pull you away from your crewmates, he leads you into an empty room on the Sunny. 

Law can barely look you in the eyes as he hands you the stuffed animal and mumbles, “I got this for you.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “Oh, Law…” The long stretch of silence causes him to panic internally, suddenly regretting everything and thinking of ways to explain himself.

Before he can come up with a flimsy excuse, you gladly accept his gift and hug it tightly. “It’s adorable, thank you! It even matches your hat!”

A blush spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. He wasn’t thinking about that, he swears! It’s the same color as Bepo! Yes, he loves black and white, and maybe he subconsciously wanted it to remind you of him, but he didn’t do it on purpose!

At breakfast the next morning, Shachi asks if you like your gift. Deciding not to question why he knows about it, you nod enthusiastically and say it’s so cute that you spent the entire night cuddling it. Law sputters and spills hot coffee on himself.

But now you feel bad. Everything about Law’s behavior made you think he disliked you, but he clearly cares enough to notice your interests. You don't know anything about him.

The next time your combined crews split up, you make it a point to join him and spend alone time together. He’s obviously overjoyed, and he’s already thinking about more gifts to buy you.

Once you get past his awkward exterior, you realize he's actually pretty cute. He has his own nerdy interests, and he genuinely cares about Bepo and the rest of his crew.

He’ll show you his if you show him yours… Obviously that means his limited edition Germa 66 comics box set and your collection of cute trinkets, with the puppy plushie he bought you sitting proudly on your pillow.

When he sees a cute animal or something he knows you’d like, if you’re within Room range, he Shambles you over to him so you won’t miss it.

“Law, what the hell? Why am I three blocks away from where I just was?” With a straight face, he points and says, “Cat.”

Bepo’s also a great wingman. He helps you see his captain’s soft side by telling stories about their adventures together – even embarrassing ones Law wishes he left unsaid. You eagerly listen to everything the Mink has to say and become even more comfortable around Law.

Law realizes you can be soft and strong at the same time. No one doubts Sanji’s strength even though he caves whenever he sees a woman – why shouldn’t that apply to you and your interests?

At one of your crew's famous banquets, you get super drunk and won’t stop clinging to him. Law is completely sober and tries to push you off of him, attempting to prevent you from doing anything you'd regret the next morning. 

But then you tell him you think he's adorable and giggle cutely.

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. "...You think so?" (He'd rather be seen as manly, but he's more than happy with any perception as long as you like him.)

You nod and move to kiss him, and as much as he’s dying to reciprocate, he holds you back. Instead, he half-carries you over to where a group of both of your crews are mingling. You're asleep in Bepo's lap in less than a minute.

Hungover and sleepy the next morning, you timidly apologize for your behavior. Law shakes his head and assures you that it's fine. 

"I still wanna kiss you, though," you murmur quietly. 

So his lips press against yours in a slow and gentle kiss, eventually escalating until your fingers are tangled in his hair and you’re straddling his lap, one tattooed hand gripping your hip and the other holding you tight against him.

Bepo and Shachi’s eyes widen when they see their captain’s flushed state a while later, hair messy and hickies on his neck. In typical Law fashion, he just thanks them with no further explanation.