#HES POSTING WITH MY NAME MY ADDRESS MY PHONE NUMBER EVERYTHING

[monsterkitties]

#STOP THAT IMPOSTOR BASTARD #HES POSTING WITH MY NAME MY ADDRESS MY PHONE NUMBER EVERYTHING #STOP HIM! #olivia octavius #doc ock #doctor octopus #the spot #jonathan ohnn #JJJJOOOOONNNY #LISTE N TO ME JONNY #I WILL CRUSH YOUR WORLD #i can hear it so clearly in her voice #IT WAS OUR COLLIDER JONNY YOU FUCKING IDIOT YOU IDIOT I SIGN YOUR FUCKING CHECKS #but shes nice enough to at least warn him with “tell one more person” #shes so stupid

[starkwlkr]

banned | charles leclerc

Charles and Y/N were in bed watching some netflix documentary. It was a Saturday morning, the couple didn't have any plans so they decided to stay in bed for an extra hour. Ruby was in her room playing with her dolls, but as time went on, she walked into her parent's room, still in her pajamas, and told them she had gotten bored of her barbies.

"Papa, can I play a game on your phone?" Ruby asked, climbing onto the bed and laying ontop of Charles.

"What happened to your iPad?" Charles questioned.

"Its with grand-mère, I forgot it." Ruby frowned.

"Okay, but not for too long." Charles sighed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "If someone calls, bring it to me, okay?"

Ruby nodded and climbed off. Her little feet took her to the living room. She sat on the couch and tried to find the game Charles had installed for her to play. Instead of clicking on the game, a certain colorful app caught her eye. She clicked on the Instagram app and the first thing she saw on Charles' feed was a picture of Y/N that she had posted recently. Her chubby fingers clicked on the heart then clicked on the comments. She knew how to spell since Y/N and Charles were teaching her so she slowly typed out a comment.

charles_leclerc MOMMY

seconds later, hundreds of notifications came flooding in.

f1lucyyy CHARLES WHAT

forzacharles SAME CHARLES

gasly10pierre he's so real for that

back in Charles and Y/N bedroom, Charles was too focused on giving his wife her morning kisses. They had completely forgotten about the documentary that was playing on the tv. Y/N was also too busy to even notice the notifications going off from her phone.

Ruby was having too much fun with her dad's phone. She kept liking photos and even took some up close photos of her face with funny filters. That's when she saw the LIVE option. Ruby, being the curious girl she is, clicked on LIVE and wondered what it was doing.

charles_leclerc started a live video

The screen showed her face, but nothing was happening. She was extremely confused. Then the comments started popping up.

schumacherlegacy BABY LECLERC

vettel.jpg BABY LECLERC WHATS YOUR DAD'S CREDIT CARD NUMBER

f1weekly yooo house tour

f1paddockgirlies omg someone screen record this iconic moment

"What's a credit card?" Ruby asked as if someone was going to tell her. She thought it was recording so an idea popped up in her head. She raced to her room with Charles' phone in hand and grabbed her favorite barbies. As she ran back, Charles called her name, unaware that his phone was capturing everything.

"Ruby! Slow down, I don't want you to fall." Charles called out.

al0nz04 OMG HER NAME IS RUBY

norriswag RUBY OMG WE FINALLY KNOW HER NAME

leclercxl/n i feel like i shouldn't be watching this 😭 she probably doesn't even know what's going on

y/nscloset guys don't screen record!! she's a child, we shouldn't be spreading information about her without y/n or charles knowing

"Sorry, papa." Ruby apologized.

"Its okay, baby. Are you hungry?" Y/N asked her daughter.

"No," Ruby quickly said and ran back to the living room.

"Ruby Jules!"

f1gossip omg they named her after jules 😭

wagstyle ok charles come get ur child before she leaks your address

Ruby positioned the phone against her mom's favorite candle and showed the camera a barbie that her uncle Lorenzo had gotten her.

"I like this one. She has pretty hair and my uncle Enzo got it for me." She brought the barbie extremely close to the camera.

leclercfamily she's in her vlog era

Ruby then set the barbie down and grabbed her favorite american girl doll that Charles got for her. "Papa got me this one. She has purple hair and has a crown, see?" Ruby showed the camera yet again. "I have more. And I have things for her hair." This time she ran to her playroom where most of her dolls were located. Instead of taking the phone with her, she left it propped up against the candle.

This game the users a clear view of the Leclerc family home, well some of it.

maxsupermax they really have a giant ass piano in their living room.

buttonvettel IS THAT THE MONZA TROPHY JUST SITTING BY THE DOOR

Ruby came back with all her american girl doll accessories. They were in the classic american girl red bag, but Ruby decided to dump it all on the floor.

"Ruby! What are you doing?" Y/N called out as Charles kissed her neck.

"Playing." Ruby said casually.

"Charles, get up. This girl might be writing on the walls." Y/N said, but Charles wouldn't get off of her.

"She's playing on my phone, she's okay."

"Still, let me get up. My amazon package gets delivered today. Get up, Perceval!" Y/N pinched his side, causing him to groan in pain and finally get off his wife.

Charles dramatically rolled onto his side. "It hurts. It hurts more when you don't have a shirt on."

"You're alive, dear husband." Y/N rolled her eyes and got up from the bed. She put on her slippers, not bothering to put on a proper shirt so she walked to the front door in her matching black silk shorts and lace top. She failed to notice her daughter on Instagram live.

y/nisamilf Y/N TURN AROUND

ricciardofiles RUBY GET UR MOM

verstappenxpiquet does she even know how to read?

"I know how to read." Ruby said to the camera.

Once Y/N opened the door, she heard her daughter say something. "What did you say, baby?" She said, still not looking in Ruby's direction as she retrieved her package from the front door.

"I said i know how to read." Ruby replied.

"Yeah, you do. You're a smart girl." Y/N nodded and went to her office that was right next to Ruby's play room.

Ruby continued showing the camera her toys.

leclercstype american girl haul slay

formulahoe STOP THIS IS GOING ON FOR TOO LONG

paddockbitches ruby is MY world champion

Then Charles finally came into the frame. He was shirtless so all the comments went by too fast for Ruby to read. Like Y/N, he didn't notice Ruby trying to read comments on the phone.

As Charles was about to ask Ruby what she wanted for breakfast, Y/N's phone started to ring. Charles quickly made his way back to the shared bedroom. He looked at the phone screen and saw that his brother Arthur was the one calling. He answered the call.

"Hey, good morning-"

"Get your phone! Ruby is on Instagram live!" Arthur said.

"What?"

"She's live, Charles!"

Charles quickly ran to the living room to find Ruby showing the camera a framed photo of Charles and Y/N's wedding. "Ruby, give me the phone!" Charles raised his voice, making Y/N come out of her office wondering what was going on.

"I was showing the pretty picture!"

Y/N ran to Ruby and saw that she was showing the viewers her wedding picture. "Baby, give papa his phone back."

"Okay. The game was boring." Ruby handed Charles his phone back and went to her playroom.

Charles quickly ended the live and put his phone on the coffee table. "She's never playing on my phone ever again."

"Who told you she was on Instagram?" Y/N asked.

"Arthur. He called you, I answered. He probably got a notification that ruby went live." Charles sighed. "Well, I think everyone knows her name by now."

"Oh my god, wait give me my phone. I have your post notifications on." Y/N gasped.

Charles handed her her phone. He watched as she scrolled through all the Instagram notifications. She then held the phone out for him to see. "She used your account to comment on my picture. Look what she said."

Charles laughed at the comment. "Well she's not wrong. The fans did call you a milf."

"Imagine the ones that missed Ruby's live, they're going to see this comment and think that you have some weird kink. Good luck explaining that, Perceval." Y/N kissed Charles' cheek and went to Ruby's playroom.

"From now on, Ruby is on a phone ban!"

ruby is so chaotic i love her, she's my fav leclerc fr

#charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 one shot #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc #ferrari f1 #formula 1 #cl16 x reader #baby leclerc series

[floodkiss]

Say "NO" to Genocide - Call, email, mail your reps (Canada)

Me and my friend spent some time today writing letters to the House of Commons, plus we have been calling MPs daily. I haven't seen too many resources for this floating around on tumblr, so here's a lengthy guide on how to do this plus some sample scripts! Long post ahead since I think it will be most helpful to dump everything in one spot to reference. On desktop, use CTR F/CMD F to search for the topic -> Phone / Email / Letter Mail / Contacts / Demands / Scripts / Fax

Update 1 - Nov 23: Updated emails with "mailto" hyperlinks, edited demands, added fax section, added scotiabank pres fax number.

On the PHONE / General Tips

Introduce yourself and identify yourself as a constituent by providing your postal code or address.

Ask to speak to the MP directly, but do not be surprised if you must speak to the MP’s staff instead. Staff can help move your issue forward.

Give the reason for your call and explain your concern.

Focus on one or two main concerns per phone call. Do not unload on the MP or their staff with all of your political concerns at one time.

Ask clear and pointed questions that require some explanation.

Ask for a commitment to action.

KEEP IN MIND Tips for Calling MPs:

Tell the MP that this issue will matter to you in the next election.

Avoid revealing party affiliation or sympathies. If you show that your vote is already cast for a certain party, the MP may not have the incentive to respond to your requests.

Be as brief as possible while outlining concerns.  Show that you respect their time.

Remain calm and respectful in dialogue. Be willing to work with them.

Follow up: Find out what actions were taken as a result of your call, and respond appropriately.

(Source: CPJ.ca)

CJPME Call Tool - Fill in the form, there will be suggested talking point. The tool will call your phone and then patch you through to your MP. If voicemail, state your concerns in 30 seconds. No address input will default you to call Foreign Affairs Minister Melanie Joly.

EMAIL

Be sure you sign your email with your name and mailing address so they know you are a part of their riding.

You will most likely receive a PR-type response or no response at all, but please still send these. It disrupts operations, and it still contributes to pressuring your MP to act on behalf of your riding.

LETTER MAIL

Mail may be sent postage-free to any member of Parliament at the House of Commons address. You just need to use an MP's full title if they are Cabinet members. Cabinet mebers have "The Honourable" attached to their names.

Postcards are efficient in that they are small pieces of card stock and can be a short message plus demands, no need to get use envelopes.

The Right Honourable Justin Trudeau House of Commons Ottawa, Ontario, Canada K1A 0A6

CONTACTS

Find your MP - ourcommons.ca - Contact the MP of your riding, any of the contacts below, as well as any cabinet members in your city or province.

Prime Minister [phone] / [email protected] *FAX: [phone] /*If faxes are closed at the House of Commons line, try their local offices! (See below under "FAX" for fax guide!)

Deputy Prime Minister - Chrystia Freeland [phone] / [email protected] FAX: [phone]

Minister of Foreign Affairs - Mélanie Joly [phone] / [email protected] FAX: [phone]

Minister of International Development - Ahmed Hussein [phone] / [email protected] FAX: [phone]

Minister of National Defence - Bill Blair [phone] / [email protected] FAX: [phone]

Canada-Israel Interparliamentary Group (CAIL) Stéphane Bergeron (*he's not a chair or vice chair of this group, but i want to warn that stephane WILL argue with you, so call after hours if you are scared of confrontation 😭☠️) [phone] / [email protected] Anthony House-father (Chair) [phone] / [email protected] Randall Garrison (VC) [phone] / [email protected] Marty Morantz (VC) [phone] / [email protected] The Honourable Ya’ara Saks (VC) [phone] / [email protected]

Embassy of Israel [phone] / FAX: [phone]

DEMANDS

Summarized from resistance groups such as H/mas, H/zbollah, PFLP (Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine), DFLP (Marxist Democratic Front got the Liberation of Palestine), CJPME (Canadians for justice and peace in the middle east), and other anti-war, anti-imperialist, IRL Palestinians.

Canada needs to...

Call an immediate PERMANENT ceasefire to end bloodshed

Send humanitarian aid to Gaza.

Institute embargo on all military exports to Israel

Close the embassies, and sanction Israel diplomatically and economically.

SCRIPTS

Use these as scripts for calling, emailing, and mailing. I suggest adding some of your own sentences and changing the subject lines (for email) so they don't end up in spam.

Example from Canada: Stop Arming Israel - World BEYOND War 

As we mourn the thousands of people in Israel and Palestine who have been killed in the past few weeks we refuse to stand by and allow the only true winners in war — the weapons manufacturers — to continue to arm and profit off of it.

Canada exported over $21 million in military goods to Israel in 2022, including over $3 million in bombs, torpedoes, missiles, and other explosives. - 2022 Exports of Military Goods 

Weapons companies across Canada are making a fortune off of the carnage in Gaza and the occupation of Palestine.

This is a call to action. It's time to stop letting these weapons companies profit off of the massacre of thousands of Palestinians. Find a location near you, get friends and allies together, and interrupt their business as usual to demand they stop selling arms and military technology to Israel.

Send an urgent message to demand Canada stop arming Israel and push for an immediate ceasefire to your Member of Parliament, the Prime Minister, and the Ministers of Foreign Affairs, International Trade, and Defense.

Dear [recipient's full name goes here], We are witnessing genocidal violence playing out in Gaza right now. Thousands of Palestinians have been killed, nearly half of them children. With a blockade on water, electricity, fuel and food, a quarter of all buildings razed to the ground, and over a million people displaced, UN experts have denounced Israel's actions as crimes against humanity. Meanwhile, weapons companies across Canada are arming -- and making a fortune off of -- the carnage in Gaza and the massacre of thousands of Palestinians by selling weapons and military technology to Israel. I am calling on you to do two things: to take immediate action to institute an arms embargo on Israel and to ensure Canada pushes for de-escalation and a ceasefire in Gaza. Sincerely,

Script Sample 2 from Palestinian Youth Movement

^This will open up a pre-written email in your chosen email app or site. Fill in the recipient line with the emails of MPs you wish to contact.

Script Sample 3 from CJPME's Email Campaign

^Complete the form to send an email to Prime Minister Trudeau, your local MP, and the leaders of the NDP, Convervatives and Greens. Canada must OPPOSE A SECOND NAKBA and dispossession of the Palestinians in Gaza by pushing for a ceasefire.

Script Sample 3 for mail:

(a mix of mine and a friend's)

I am writing to ask you to take immediate action to stop the genocide Israel is committing against Palestinians in Gaza as well as the onslaught of those in West Bank.

There is blockade on food, water, electricity, fuel, and the use of internationally banned white phosphorus to exterminate Palestinians. Aid is not able to enter Gaza because of this blockade. UN experts have named Israel’s actions as genocide citing numerous war crimes they continually commit.

While over 10k civilians have been martyr’d (4.2k of which are children), Canada has not even been able to NAME such crimes as genocide or call for an official ceasefire. This is not enough.

Canada needs to:

Call an immediate ceasefire to end bloodshed

Send humanitarian aid to Gaza.

Institute embargo on all military exports to Israel

Close the embassies, and sanction Israel diplomatically and economically.

FAX (NEW!)

Using faxzero.com is simple, just follow up the steps on the website. No fax machine required! Tell officials your demands and customize your letter by noting their complicity based on their role as a politician or gov official. Or keep it brief and simple, in large legible letters. 

Demands could include:

That you are a “Canadian” constituent That you are demanding an IMMEDIATE AND PERMANENT CEASEFIRE IN GAZA; That you demand a total withdrawal of financial (taxpayer) and commercial support and arms for continued occupation in Israel’s 70+ year occupation in Palestine; That it is shameful that [X] is choosing not to speak up for the deaths of more than 11,000 Palestinians, half of whom are children and thousands of others displaced; That Palestinians like all people, deserve life, dignity and justice; That Israel is breaking multiple international laws daily and Canada MUST meet its international commitment to promote and defend human rights under the Geneva Convention; That not putting these actions in place will harm constituents and undo acts of reconciliation with Indigenous peoples and other marginalized communities in Canada by not protecting the Indigenous peoples of Palestine; That unless there is concrete and everlasting action taken place, that there will be no peace until Palestine is free, and subsequently that you will not be voting for them (if applicable) in the next election.

Sign off with your name, address and postal code (if applicable, furthering that you are a resident on the stolen Indigenous lands otherwise known as “Canada”) Extended fax list: Scott thomson (president of scotiabank) - 416-866-5929 joe biden / whitehouse - 202-456-2461

(source: @/harlo.gif on IG)

#canadian politics #palestine #canada #canada stop arming israel

[redskull199987]

MIKE SCHMIDT!!?!?!?!

FNAF MOVIE ATE SO HARD okay but what about Mike Schmidt (aka Josh my childhood crush frfr) x eeader who was his childhood friend and despite her being obviously in love with him he never realized because of Geretts death his job problems and Abby so he always took everything for a "friendly gesture" (even though Abby told him multiple times and the overfriendliness duh) and one day after that one girl (the babysitter girl, something with M, forgot her name) didn't come he finally called her to babysit Abby which made her mad happy, and when she arrives before he leaves they maybe have a small romantic interaction which gets (sadly) interrupted by Abby by accident so he awkwardly leaves after that to work? This would be kind of a cliff hanger but I have this perfectly pictured in mind and I need someone to write this down, so please 🤞🏻 Thanks a lot, love you!!!

Waiting for Her

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader Request

Word Count:1.8k

Warnings:nothing basically, maybe a bit of anxiety on the readers side, but apart from that, it’s fluff, Movie spoilers obviously

Summary:You hadn’t seen your childhood friend Mike in years. And you certainly didn’t expect to see him anytime soon again. But what you didn’t plan on was him calling you to ask if you could babysit his little sister. And how could you say no to the man who was your first ever crush…

Masterlist

You didn’t plan on going out again today. Strictly speaking, you were actually about to go to sleep, since you had a long day at work and all you wanted to do was to fall into the comfort of your bed.

But right, as you entered your bedroom to get ready for the night, you heard your phone ringing from the hallway. Your brows furrowed in confusion, as you didn’t know who in the world would be calling at such ungodly hours.

You glanced at the clock on your wall once more, it was already 11pm, before you made your way towards your phone. Your suspicions only rose, as you didn’t recognize the number. But against all odds, you decided to answer.

“Hello?”, you asked gingerly, your voice slightly shaking.

Your Paranoia quickly dissolved into nothingness, as the Person on the other Side of the Line quickly answered:”Y/N? This is Mike, Mike Schmidt.”

“Mike?”, You wondered,”As much as I enjoy hearing from you again, why are you calling me in the middle of the Night?”

“If it were possible? My usual Babysitter didn’t show up and I can’t leave Abby alone.”, he tried to explain.

“Uh, this is kinda out of nowhere, but I was wondering if you could babysit my little sister?”, he asked, the slight Embarrassment in his voice painfully obvious.

To say that you were taken aback by his question would’ve been an understatement:”Like right now?”

Your mind was reassembling a hurricane for a minute, as your thoughts were racing towards every possible answer that You could give him. Were you tired and wanted to sleep? Of course, you were. But you also wanted to help out Mike, he was your childhood best friend after all. Even if you didn’t see each other in quite a while. After his little Brother died, he distanced himself from you more and more. You didn’t judge him, he was mourning after all, but you couldn’t deny the pang in your heart every time you thought back to him.

“So?”, Mike inquired after you didn’t answer,”Do you think it would be possible?”

You didn’t give yourself enough time to think it over once more. It seemed like you answered on autopilot:”Ehm, sure. Just tell me your address and I’ll come over.”

Mike quickly thanked you and gave you his address, you scribbled it down on a small Post-it-Note, before hanging up. You could only stare at your phone in silence. What the hell did you just agree on? Were you truly ready to see Mike again? What would he think if he saw you? Surely, you had changed quite a bit since you last saw him. And even more important, how did he look now? What was going on in his life? 

Since you were to babysit his little Sister, you thought that he was probably taking care of her. Where were his Parents? Did they die? Was Mike really raising his little sister on his own? Or did he have someone? A Partner potentially?

Your eyes widened. What if he did have a Partner? Not that it was any of your business, but you didn’t forget how much of a Crush you had on him back then. But he was your best friend, so you didn’t say anything.

And then you grew apart.

You quickly shook your head, trying not to overthink it too much. You looked back at your phone and realized in horror, that You had been standing there in the Hallway for ten minutes, just staring to the ground.

“Oh Shit!”, You mumbled to yourself and quickly jogged back to your room to throw on a pair of Jeans and grab your jacket. With your keys in one hand and your Phone in the other, You made your way out of your Apartment and towards your car. You took one last deep breath in and looked back to your Home, before finally starting the car and driving to the Address, Mike had given you.

With your hands slightly shaking, You knocked on the Door of an inconspicuous Apartment. You could see Lights coming from the inside and a Car was parked in Front, so You knew someone was Home. You just hoped that it was the right address and that you didn’t accidentally scare some People by randomly knocking on their Door.

But as the Door swiftly opened, you presumed that your assumptions were unnecessary. In front of you, stood a tall young Man with curly Brown hair. He was wearing a Security west over his Hoodie, it even had a small Badge pinned to it. He may have looked different, but Eyes were the same. You were sure that you would recognize his Eyes in every other Universe. And it were exactly those eyes that were staring at you in disbelief right now.

“Mike?”, You finally said, a smile now lacing your lips. All Anxiety aside, you were just happy to see him again. The Boy you had seen everyday when You were a kid had now grown into a man. And a pretty handsome one on top of that.

“Y-Yeah, it’s me.”, Mike mumbled, running a hand through his hair,”You…You look really pretty.”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks and you quickly looked to the ground, the smile on your face only growing bigger.

“I missed you.”, You finally said,”Mind if I ask for a Hug?”

Mike only shook his head, already stepping closer to you, slinging his arms around your waist. As his warmth engulfed you, you realized once more how much you had missed him, so You made sure to give him an extra-large squeeze before the two of you parted.

Mike only looked at you, with what you thought was adoration, in his eyes, before he asked you inside.

“So, what have you been up to?, You asked, as you carefully glanced around his apartment. It wasn’t particularly big, but it looked cozy. You spotted a TV in front of a Sofa in the living room and directly following it was the small kitchen with a round table in the middle. You presumed that the hallway led to the bathroom and Abby’s and Mike’s Bedrooms.

“Oh you know, this and that. Mainly looking after my sister.”, Mike finally answered your question, as he grabbed his car keys from the living room and came back to you,”What about you?”

“Nothing too interesting.”, You smiled politely,”I work in a boring office and live in a boring Apartment and go to the same boring Mall now and then.”

“No Partner or something like that?”, Mike asked with furrowed Brows and you saw the regret on his face, as he realized that his question may have been a bit too straight forward.

But You only chuckled, trying to lighten the Mood:”No, I don’t have a Partner. Why?”

“Oh you k-know..”, he mumbled, looking to the Ground,”I thought, someone as pretty as you would have a Partner.”

You were quite sure that you must have looked dumbfounded as hell, but neither Mike nor you got any chance to say anything, as you saw a small Girl running down the Hallway, towards the two of You.

“Mike! I wanna come with You”, She quietly whined and grabbed his arm. Mike only gave you an apologetic look, before leaning down to her height:”Abby, we talked about this. You know, it’s too dangerous for you to come.”

Abby only pouted in response and now, her gaze finally fell onto you. Her big brown eyes inspected you from top to bottom:”Is that the Girl you always talk about?”

Now it was Mike’s turn to blush, as he swiftly rose to his feet again:”This is Y/N. She will look after you tonight. We were friends when we were about your age.”

“Oh, I feel honored.”, You chuckled,”Tell me, what do you wanna do tonight?”

You gave the small girl a warm smile, before also leaning down to her height, just as Mike had done it mere seconds ago.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Abby”, You said and held your hand out for her to take it. She looked at it for a second, before gently grabbing and shaking it:”I like you.”

“Mike only lets me stay up until 12”, Abby pouted and glared at her older Brother.

You looked back and forth between them for a second. She really was a lot like her brother, you noted.

“I tell you something, come here.”, You motioned for her to step closer and as she did, You mumbled something into her ear, so that Mike couldn't hear it,”I’ll let you stay up as long as you like and I won’t tell Mike. It’ll be our little secret, okay?”

The Girl practically beamed at you and nodded eagerly, before taking off towards her room again. With a chuckle, you got back to your feet to accompany Mike to the door.

“Thanks again.”, Mike mumbled, opening the Door,”I’ll pay you as soon as I get my salary, I promise.”

“There’s no need for that, Mike”, You chuckled patting his shoulder. The Boy looked at You like You were his Lord and Saviour:”How can I repay you?”

“See you tomorrow then.”, you beamed and waved your hand at him, as he made his way towards his car. You looked after him for a minute, before you heard Abby calling out for you.

“You could…yk, Go out with me some time.”,You proposed shyly, looking to the Ground.

But much to your Favour, Mike gave you a smile and a nod:”I’d love to.”

You concluded that it was the right decision to answer Mike’s Call.

Bonus:

After a long and dreadful Night at the Pizza Plex, Mike finally arrived back home. He was ready to just fall into his bed and sleep through the entire day.

And as he stepped closer, he felt his heartbeat slightly pick up. There you were, huddled up on the Couch, but what he didn’t expect was that Abby was laying next to you. Or rather, on top of you. The two of You cuddled up together under the blanket, like a bunch of cats.

But his plans changed, as he stepped into the apartment. He was about to call out for you, when he spotted someone laying on the Couch in the Living Room.

A small smile made its way onto his face and he quickly stepped forward to adjust the blanket on the two of you, before quietly making his way towards his room. Mike decided that it was a good idea to call You up and ask for help.

#fnaf #fnaf edit #fnaf os #fnaf oneshot #fnaf ff #fnaf fanfic #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's edit #five nights at freddy's os #Five nights at freddy's oneshot #five nights at freddy's ff #five nights at freddy's fanfic #mike schmidt #fnaf mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x fem!reader #mike schmidt os #mike schmidt oneshot #mike schmidt ff #mike schmidt fanfic #abby #abby schmidt #pizza plex #fnaf movie #edit #edits #os #oneshot #ff #write

[shy-taylorsversion]

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

  Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping. 

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.  

           “Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”  

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often. 

           “Depends, who is this?”  

    The response was almost immediate. 

          “Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

 She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush. 

          “I’m at a bar, what do you want?” 

         “Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.” 

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.   

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood. 

   They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone. 

     Her phone buzzed in her hand again. 

       “I miss you.” 

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address. 

Present, April 2011

  “What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.” 

  Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow. 

  Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months. 

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days. 

 “He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”  

   “Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“ 

 “Bye, Sam.” 

  The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road. 

   It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid. 

 Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was. 

   She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out. 

    That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.  

 The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.  

     “C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.” 

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it. 

   She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult. 

  A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

    She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.  

    God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point. 

   “You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

       He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy. 

    She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.  

  She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive. 

  He’d left like an assassin. 

   Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged. 

     In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect. 

 “I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.” 

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby. 

  She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half. 

   She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal. 

     Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms. 

   Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.  

   “I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.” 

   Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling. 

     “I’m so glad you’re back.” 

   “Yeah, me too.” 

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes. 

  The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again. 

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.   

    “Let’s get started?” 

March 2010 

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

   She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front.  Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second. 

 Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

   “C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.” 

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door. 

     “Sorry, Sammy.”  Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.” 

Present, April 2011

   Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.  

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help. 

   Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then. 

   She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet. 

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him. 

  Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

    A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun. 

      The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night. 

       She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor. 

        Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her. 

   She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground. 

     She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor. 

   Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. 

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?” 

“Yeah, You?” 

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him. 

    “I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.  

   Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side. 

  Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop. 

    “What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled. 

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps. 

“I am fine.”  She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.  

    The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished. 

He was here, touching her, after so long. 

  Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting. 

 This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

  She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs. 

   The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark. 

  They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them. 

 Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.  

 They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.  

   They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.  

     None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her. 

  Now they knew she was there.

 Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one. 

   Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact. 

    She swung. 

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up. 

Its head hit the floor. 

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire. 

   The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.  

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment. 

“Time for drinks?” 

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready. 

   She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do.  She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less. 

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”  

  Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms. 

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong. 

   “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.”  She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him. 

    She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut. 

“Y/n, look at me.”  

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.  

 Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft.  She knew where this was going. 

  Dean took a deep breath before starting.  

“Look, what I did-” 

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat. 

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.” 

 Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed. 

  “Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.” 

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest.  He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished. 

   “Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much. 

     His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. 

    “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?” 

      “Y/n.” 

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.  

  “You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face. 

   “Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.” 

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away. 

   “It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.” 

She let out a bitter laugh. 

 She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go. 

  She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion. 

    “Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.  

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

   “For what it's worth, I am sorry.” 

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink. 

  She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead. 

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean. 

   She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

  A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.  

   The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night. 

 “I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it?  Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him. 

 “It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.”  She smiled at him.

 “You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind. 

 The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.    

  Y/n didn’t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one. 

 And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

  She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it. 

   She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester songfic #dean winchester

[xxatinyminionxx]

ZB1 Reaction - You Say Their Name

Genre: Reaction, fluff, a pinch or two of crack

Background: You have been around him for some time but never really used his name to speak to him until now.

Warning: Yujin + Jiwoong’s are a little longer sorry I took a break while writing this 😭

A/N: Happy ZB1 debut day!!! At this point I haven’t seen the comeback yet. This reaction is a call back to Say My Name era on Boys Planet in a unique way! 🫶

Zhang Hao

He saw you as the more distant person among his acquaintances and didn’t bother you as much because of it. He respects your space and if you’re not comfortable enough to talk to him, he’d rather not push you.

One day you found a really funny meme and decide to show him. “Zhang Hao, look at this!”

“Hm?” He’ll ask with raised eyebrows, his heart moved by your attention to him after all this time.

You hold your phone out to him, meeting him by his side to watch his reaction. You get the cutest giggle out of him.

“Oh, then I have something to show you too.” He adds before searching for a funny post he recently liked that he thought catered to your humor.

You two bond over your sense of humor and exchange phone numbers before his schedule whisks him away.

Sung Hanbin

You took one of his classes when you were on the lookout for a new hobby. You had such a good time even though tutting isn’t easy.

Swamped with work again, it takes you awhile to sign up for another one of his classes. In the midst of your busy schedule, you think you see him in a store you frequently go to.

“Sung Hanbin?” You ask carefully hoping you’re right and didn’t make a fool out of yourself.

He turns his attention away from a display and smiles politely. “Yes?”

That’s when it clicks. He probably has no idea who you are. A lot of students attended the tutting class.

“Ah, I’m Y/N. I took your tutting class at your studio. I guess I wanted to come say hi and thank you for leading such an engaging class. Dancing is my new hobby.” You ramble on but manage to say everything you meant to say.

He smiles and nods through your immense gratitude for him, his eyebrows furrowing at particular parts that he thinks praise him too highly. Our humble king. “Ah, you’re lovely. I remember watching you try to perfect every hand movement in the mirror. I’m glad I could provide you with a new hobby! Will I be seeing you in class again?”

“Of course!”

Seok Matthew

Matthew was the saint that was always there when you were having a hard time. He held the elevator for you who was sprinting to make it inside, offered you a ride home when it was pouring outside, listened to your advice and opinions on things when others weren’t, and called you his friend when you least expected that title.

The difference this time was that you were going to take him by surprise for a change. That’s what his kind gestures have led up to. While you were used to saying “thank you”, you never really addressed him by his name. It was nameless appreciation.

But when he takes some of the items you were clearly having a hard time juggling to hold in your arms…

“Thank you, Matthew.” Is what you say.

As if his dream came true, his face brightens up and he gifts you with one of his shy smiles.

“Haha no problem Y/N.” He responds lightly trying to keep calm though he’s screaming on the inside.

Ricky

An extremely handsome guy enters your cafe during work hours and he takes you ABACK with his aura. You’re suddenly so glad someone traded shifts with you. Your somehow unphased co-worker takes this man’s order before handing it off to you to make.

You feel his gaze on you for a moment—until it drops to his phone to check something on it. With his head down, you can hardly take your eyes off him as you prepare his order. Unfortunately you may never see him again, which is why you call his name with the utmost enthusiasm.

“Ricky?!”

He peers up at you and greets you with a cute smile before grabbing his order. “Thank you~”

Your eyes remain locked on each other a couple seconds too long for just a meaningless encounter.

“Y/N.” You point to your name tag assuming he wanted to know your name.

He hums and nods. “Y/N, thank you. Have a good day.”

Little did you know he would become a regular just for you <3

Park Gunwook

You had been window shopping today and came across a busking event as you walked around the city. Music along with someone’s talented rapping voice echoes down the street.

You approach the crowd to get a closer look. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a guy you frequently sat next to in school one year. You talked sometimes, but you weren’t really on a first name basis.

You decide to cheer along with the crowd, remembering his name as it used to appear on his school uniform. “Park Gunwook!”

The sudden unique cheer throws him off and he looks over in your general direction. You can tell he’s flustered in the face when he spots you but he keeps going until the end of his verse.

Once his performances are over, he rushes to come see you before you decide to leave. “Y/N!!”

You smile at each other and applaud him again for his charismatic performance. “By the way, did I scream a little too loud?”

He shakes his head all giggly, flashing you his big smile. “I remembered your voice, plus I don’t go by Park Gunwook when I rap.”

“Then what do you go by?”

“TopGunz.”

You can tell he’s not joking.

Kim Taerae

You went to a gathering that people you knew were going to be at. You really were not enthusiastic about going, but you were curious and felt guilty since you had a track record of skipping events like this.

To your surprise, you have a good time up until the host initiates a game of truth or dare.

Sitting in a circle that looks more like an oval, you’re eventually the next person to ask.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

You scan the room but it’s no use. No one gives away what they’re thinking through their facial expressions. This was a 50/50 question.

“Um…dare.” You choose.

“I dare you to hold hands with someone for the rest of the night. Who will it be?” The host instigates with the help of an online list of dares.

“Kim Taerae.” You say in almost the same second that the question into the air to be ‘oooh’ed at.

The called-out young man perks up not expecting you to call his name one bit. “Me?” He can’t stop smiling as he gets up to be beside you.

When your fingers lace together, you notice his hand is warm, some callouses adding to the nature of his hand.

“You’re allowed to switch hands, but you can never let go of each other.”

You two would never let each other go. A lifelong dare meant to stand the test of time.

Kim Gyuvin

You were sitting on the bench at a bus stop when a familiar acquaintance sat on the other end of it. You end up locking eyes and you laugh in unison.

“Hello.”

“Hello~”

Minutes go by and without delay, the bus arrives. You two get up to board it and end up sitting in rows across from each other.

The ride is quiet besides the couples of people to the front of you and behind you having their own conversations.

The bus stops at some photoshoot place and the tall male gets up to leave the bus, accidentally leaving his jacket behind on the seat beside where he was.

“Gyuvin!”

He turns around in shock at the sound of your voice.

“You forgot your jacket.” You get up, scooping up his leather jacket and handing it over to him.

He gives you a sheepish grin and bows politely. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll um see you again sometime?”

Kim Jiwoong

As a staff on the set of a drama, not only do you get to service the actors, but you also get to peek in at the production occasionally.

The scene being filmed today requires several touch-ups to the actors’ makeup, so you have a closer look at the acting on set.

You make sure to run up to Jiwoong, your assigned actor, to reapply makeup as requested by the director between takes.

He is nice and friendly to everyone apart of the project while his character unironically contrasts so much in front of the camera. His character is cold, confident, and assertive.

Still not completely out of the emotions of the character, he has a somewhat tense look on his face.

“Relax your face for me, Jiwoong. You’re doing great.” You sneak in a compliment being thoroughly amazed by his dedication to the drama.

He gifts you with a small smile before relaxing. “Thank you Y/N, I have to work hard because you work hard too.” He responds in a similar tone as his on-camera character, which makes you hot and flustered inside.

“Still in-character?”

“A little~” He whispers cooly and it takes everything in you not to bolt out of the set area.

“Wow, you’re crazy Mr. Jiwoong...” You tease as you finish up his makeup and take a step back.

He winks at you before taking his place and resuming filming again.

Han Yujin

There is an internet cafe that you frequent since it’s merely a 5-10 minute walk from your house. You’re embarrassed to admit it but almost everyday, you come over to the pc room to play an online game that’s had you hooked.

The game is popular enough that you can easily play with others local to you. While you may have thought that was cool at surface level, you never really gave it a second thought.

You grow fond of a few players and “friend” them on your gaming account. You all start coordinating times to play as a result.

One day, you sit down to meet your online friends in-game using a mic and headset as usual. When you are successful at a specific mission that had you and your friends stumped, you can hear loud cheering from next to you.

There is a small delay between what you hear in your headphones and what you’re hearing beside you. You could’ve sworn you heard your gamer tag being uttered from both, saying the same thing.

“Ohhh! Amazing! Wow, you totally carried us, (your gamer tag)!” Seems to echo in-game and in real life.

The outburst, or outbursts, take you off guard and you push your left headphone off your ear wondering if you were just hearing things.

“Guys guys, let’s go heal up! I took a lot of damage.” The guy beside you says grinning ear to ear, eyes glued to a screen running the same game as yours.

“Wait…Yujin?!?!” You say overwhelmed with shock and kind of excitement. You poke his shoulder repeatedly and of course you scare the life out of him—he’s screaming bloody murder over voice chat.

He soon recovers and it’s clear that you’re the only one who has put two and two together given his bewildered expression.

“I’m (your gamer tag)!” You clear up quickly before he thinks a crazy person suddenly spawned in real life.

His eyes go wide as he recognizes who you are from your computer screen. He then leans far back in his chair letting out a heavy sigh. “Wahhh! It’s really you?!”

You laugh along with the rest of your friends—who are absolutely dying of laughter listening in online—and nod at Yujin.

“Sorry for startling you, you startled me! Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a meal.” You say to Yujin while the others “ooooh” over voice chat.

—

©️ 2023 xxatinyminionxx. All Rights Reserved.

#minion works #zb1 taerae #zb1 gunwook #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 yujin #zb1 fluff #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #kpop

[falcqns]

for the first time (whats past is past)

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Lucy Chen & Tim Bradford

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Tim calls Lucy in the middle of the night, hoping to every god that exists that her number hadn’t changed, and to every angel that she would pick up despite how he had hurt her.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon divergence, angst with a happy ending obviously, Chenford. tagging @natashasera. Title is from Begin Again by my mothaaaaa 

don’t forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

“Please pick up,” Tim whispered to himself. He sniffed, trying blink back the tears that were gathering in his eyes. He knew he was stupid for doing this, for calling her; if he were her, he wouldn’t pick up the phone, especially after he had done what he did. She had needed him, and he had left her, and he wouldn’t blame her for doing the same to him. 

But, whatever gods that he had prayed to before hitting her contact must have heard his prayers, because just as he was about to give up, the ringing stopped, and he heard static for a brief second, before hearing a sound he thought he’d never hear again - Lucy saying his name in her beautiful, melodic voice. 

“Tim?” She said quietly, and Tim choked back a sob. 

“H-Hi,” he whispered. There was rustling on the other end for a brief moment before Lucy responded. 

“What happened?” She asked, her previously neutral tone shifting to concerned. 

Tim chuckled quietly. “Why do you assume that something happened?” 

“Because you wouldn’t be calling me in the middle of the night if it hadn’t.” 

Tim hung his head, sighing. “Y-You’re right.” He suddenly regretted calling her, he didn’t want her to think he’d only called her because he needed something, because that was far from the truth. He did need something, but she was the only one he wanted to call. Everyone else would look at him with pity - which he understood, because how sad is it that him, a nearly 40 year old man was broken up with and humiliated at a party? But still, he knew that if he had called Angela or Genny, they would have pitied him, but Lucy wouldn’t do that. She would feel bad for him, but he knew that she knew (better than anyone) that these things happened, and it was important to move on and not be stuck in the past. “I uhm..” He began, but stopped, unsure how to explain it without sounding like he was in high school. 

“Tim?” Lucy asked again, and this time, Tim cleared his throat before speaking. 

“I uh - I was at a party, with my girlfriend, and we got into a fight. It was stupid, but it caused her to freak out, and basically start bashing me in front of all of her friends.” He explained. 

“Im so sorry Tim,” Lucy said. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘bashing’ you?” She asked, and Tim chuckled sadly.

“Well,” he began. “She thought it was appropriate to bring up everything from my past, more specifically the things I had told her in confidence, like what happened with Isabel and my dad, and things I was ashamed about, like how I treated you.” He confessed. 

Lucy sighed on the other end, and the rustling could be heard again. “Tim, I’m so sorry that happened to you, you didn’t deserve that.”

Tim shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “Kinda feels like I did, but right now I just want to get away from her and her friends, but I’m stranded. You were the only person I could think of to call who wouldn’t pity me.” 

Lucy laughed quietly. “Of course im not going to pity you, I learned my lesson with that when I was your rookie.” Tim laughed in response. “Send me the address, and I’ll come and get you.” 

Tim sighed in relief. “Thank you.” He said, and sent her a text with the location of the party. 

“Okay,” Lucy said, looking at the address. “It’ll take me about 20 minutes to get to you, but I’m leaving pretty much right now,” she said. “I’ll see you when I get there, okay?” 

“Yeah.” Tim replied. “Thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, Tim. I’m glad you called me.”

—— 

27 minutes later, Tim saw Lucy’s Gray Acura RDX pull into the driveway, and he was finally able to move off of the rock he had been sitting on. He walked over to her car, and opened the passenger door, sliding into the seat, and shut the door behind him. Lucy smiled at him, before reaching out and pausing the music she had been playing. 

Tim glanced at the screen, and his brows furrowed when he saw the song “I See The Light.”

“Why are you playing Disney music?” 

Lucy pointed behind her, and when Tim tuned his head around, he was shocked to see a car seat facing the back of the back seat, and a mirror on the headrest, allowing him to see the sleeping infant, no more than 6 or 7 months old, in the carseat. 

“Tangled is her favourite.” She said, putting the car in reverse, and backing out of the driveway. “And she was not too happy to be taken out of her sleep sack before she was ready.” Lucy said, a smile on her face. 

“Im sorry,” Tim apologized immediately. Not only did he wake her up in the middle of the night, he had her wake her sleeping baby up, to come and get him from a party in the middle of nowhere, when he could have just called an Uber.

Lucy shook her head. “Don’t be,” she said, reading his mind. “She was going to wake up soon for a feed anyways, so it’s all good.” 

Tim nodded, his head turning back to face the road. “I uh,” he said, glancing down at his hands before speaking. “I didn’t know you were a mom.” 

Lucy nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I am.” She said. “I love it more than I thought I would.” She explained. “I mean, I always knew I wanted to be a mom, but the second she entered the world, I knew I’d love it more than anything in this world.” 

Tim smiled. “I’m happy for you, I know how much you’d wanted the whole marriage and kids thing.”

Lucy nodded, eyes on the road. “Actually, just the kids. I’m not married.” She said. She looked sideways at Tim briefly, and answered his unasked question. “I’m single.”

“Oh,” Tim responded, unsure what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Lucy nodded, glancing back at her baby. “Chris wasn’t too keen on being a father.” She explained, and Tim shook his head. 

“What an idi- I mean dummy head.” He said, glancing back at the baby briefly, making Lucy laugh. 

“Its okay, you can swear.” She said. “I don’t care, and It helps her development, so swear it up.” She said, making Tim laugh. 

“What an idiot.” Tim continued, before shaking his head. “Nope, can’t swear. Feels too weird.” 

Lucy laughed, and Tim smiled looking over at her. He had missed that sound more than anything, and he knew it was all his fault that he hadn’t heard it in nearly two years. 

“Anyways, Sanford is a dummy head for doing that to you.” Tim continued. 

“I know, but it’s not the first time someone has left me when things have gotten hard.” She said, and Tim nodded sadly, knowing that she was referring to him now. 

“I know, and I’m-“ Tim began, before Lucy cut him off. 

“if you say ‘I’m sorry’ one more time, I’m pulling over and you can walk.”

They both laughed, and Tim opened his mouth once more. “Okay, okay I’m-“ he began, before him and Lucy glanced at each other, and immediately looked away as they both burst into laughter. 

Their laughs were cut short by a cry from the backseat. Lucy reached out, tapping the ‘AirPlay’ button on her car display, and bringing up the Tangled soundtrack again. 

“I’m sorry, Mae Mae,” Lucy said, looking into her rearview mirror, where she could see the reflection of her daughter. “Look, Mama’s playing your music.” As soon as Mandy Moore’s singing voice began to float from the car speakers, the infant calmed down, and looked out the window.

The car was quiet for a few minutes, and Tim wouldn’t admit it, but he actually enjoyed the Tangled soundtrack. He then decided to break the silence, wanting to know more about what he’d missed in the Lucyverse the past almost two years.

“What’s her name?” He asked, referring to the baby in the backseat.

Lucy swallowed nervously before she responded. “Her name is Maple.”

Tim’s heart pounded in his chest, a wave of gruelling grief, the same wave that had washed over him for months when he left Lucy that had stolen his ability to take care of himself, crashed over him once more. 

Maple was the name that they’d chosen together. Tim hadn’t liked it at first, but the more he’d thought about it, the name Maple Bradford definitely had a ring to it. When they’d broken up, he knew he was still going to use the name if he ever had kids, but he didn’t think that she would, especially after he left her the way he did. 

“Y-You used the name.” Tim said quietly, and Lucy nodded. She looked over at him, and his heart broke even more when he saw that she had tears in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” She admitted. “It was the only name that made sense to me.” She said, and upon seeing Tim’s confused look, she elaborated. “When I was in labor, I was all alone. It was the middle of the night, and I was woken up by the worst pain I had ever felt. I knew I was in labor, and was so scared of giving birth alone that I drove myself to the hospital. Once I got there, I was so scared, and didn’t want to disturb anyone, so I gave birth alone. The entire time, the only person I wanted beside me, I knew I couldn’t call.” She said, sniffling as she spoke.

“Who?” Tim asked, a little afraid of the answer.

“You.” She said, glancing at Tim. “I wanted you by my side. I wanted you to be there, holding my hand, and encouraging me. I wanted it to be you to be her father, not someone who never wanted her in the first place. But I couldn’t call you.” 

Tim turned his body to face her. “Luce, I would have absolutely came and been there for you had you called me, you know that right?” 

Lucy looked at him, a serious look on her face. “Do I, though?” She asked. “How was I supposed to know if you’d come and support me, after you left me when I needed you the most after I made P2?” She asked, and Tim looked down in shame.

He had done that. She had been struggling with him not being by her side on patrol, and was having separation anxiety and jealousy with him and his new rookie, and he, instead of supporting her and understanding, got mad at her and ended things. Which he immediately regretted, but regretted even more the next day when Grey told him that she had transferred, and hated himself when he went to her apartment, only to find that she was gone. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He said. “I hate that I did that to you. I shouldn’t have just given up on you, on us like that. I should have supported and understood you, not walked away. I regret ending things.” 

“Well, its in the past now.” Lucy said. And Tim sighed sadly. 

“So theres no hope for us, is there?” He asked, and Lucy looked over at him.

“Of course theres hope,” She said, pulling her car into his driveway. “I’ve always had hope that we’d find each other again.” She put the car into park and turned towards him. “I’m glad that you called me.”

“I’m glad you answered.” He said. He then glanced at his front door, then at Maple, before his eyes landed on Lucy.

“Do you want to come in?” He asked, his voice shaking at the implications of what he was asking. 

Lucy smiled at him. “Of course we do.”

#natashasera #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #tim bradford x lucy chen

[angelprinz]

laveennn!! I missed u smm:(( it's me! 💌 anon again hehehe..sorry I didn't send asks for the past 2 months,my phone broke:((( anyway,I have a new ask ofc!<3

pervert!discordmod!xiao who saw u post a photo of urself in the "face reveal!" channel,my god,he fell inlove right away. he didn't even see your body but your face was so cute ! that's when his stalking came in! he has ur number,insta,snap,whatever social you have!! he stalks you daily,he knows your passwords,people you talk to,the people you text,your classmates,everything!

pervert!discordmod!xiao who thought having ur socials wasn't making him satisfied..so he simply hacked ur phone! now he can see ur photos,videos,notes whatever! he has every photo of you,but sadly you dont take nude photos so hes sad:((( but its fine,he has pictures of ur body to masturbate to!! he always has his imagination too<3 hell,he even writes down his own fanfics,from him to later read!

pervert!discordmod!xiao who pays artist to draw you,and it's not wholesome. he has drawings of you in a maid outfit,bunny outfit,lingerie(all colors hehejshss),face covered with cum,him fucking you,slutty outfits,and even more stuff!(that cant be named..for reasons)

pervert!discordmod!xiao who finally got your address! it's not far from his,so its perfect! now he can stalk u irl<33 he watches you sleep,eat,change your clothes,take showers,go to school,go out with your friends and pretty much watches your every move<33 he even set up cameras all over your house so he can watch you all the time! he takes photos and videos of you changing and taking showers,for him to later masturbate and cum on his phone,or his computer screen<3333

pervert!discordmod!xiao who decided to kidnap you,hes not gentle either. after he got you all tied up looking pretty,he'll rip your clothes and fuck you right on spot,no he doesn't care if you wake up! he'll be happy u woke up,cuz now u can see how much he loves you<33 he's going to fast,and you're sitting here crying cuz hes abusing ur poor cunt!:(((( hes also not kind during the act,hes spitting mean and degrading words about how a filthy person you are,cumming around him and squeezing him so tight. you're enjoying this,aren't you huh? you wanted this all this time,for him to kidnap you and rape ur tight cunt!<33 now,he has you in his hands..oh my,hes gonna have so much fun with you<3.

xiao hi I'm here pick me choose me love me pls abuse my tight cunt xiao !<33 I love xiao fr

- 💌 anon

when he stalks u and uses you like a little toy for all his wet dreams <3 xiao and his obsession with covering you in his cum, making sure your face is painted in white with his loads !!! he also loves making you cum around him, he touches your most sensitive spots and forces you to orgasm every time he abuses your hole!!! xiao's watched you for so long, he knows the weak areas of your body.

mr hacker xiao i luv him sm ! ty anon sm for this thirst hhhh

#💌 anon <3 #tw. dark content #xiao <3 #xiao smut #gi smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #tw. noncon #yandere xiao

[dragcnbreak]

crazy for this boy

Ness is taken aback by a pretty man entering the diner and maybe moves a bit too fast with him.

Also cross-posted on AO3!

◞♡࿐

Ness was gay, which is a fact that is pretty much as old as time itself. Even with the year being 2000 and living in the state of Utah, he didn’t much try to hide it. That may have been the main reason why he was staring at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life. Ness worked at a dinner called Sparky’s and he does meet a lot of pretty men who catch his eye but none quite like this one.

The man had the most intense hazel eyes, matted hair that was still somehow cute, and a gorgeous chiseled jaw with an endearing five o’clock shadow. Ness pouted internally when he saw him sit at a table that he wasn’t waiting. So before his coworker, Tara, could approach, he began to bribe her for the table. She gave him a knowing glance, letting him have it.

“Hi. Welcome to Sparky’s, sugar! What can I get you started with?” Ness rolled up to the table with confidence. It’s only when the man blushes that he realizes he let a pet name slip. “U-um, just a… water is fine.” Ness peered down at the stuttering man, smiling at the name tag on him reading “Mike”.

“Gotcha, Mike! Anything else? Lunch is the most important meal of the day after all.” Mike frowned at that. “Is it really lunchtime already? Damn it.” The sentences cause Ness to frown too. “Is everything okay?” He can’t help but ask, wanting to know more about the guy in front of him. “It’s none of your business.” Mike shook his head.

“I’ll be right back.” Ness says, an idea forming. He reported to his manager, Clyde, and explained that he would be going on his break now. Clyde nodded and Ness grabbed two waters on his way back out, one for Mike and one for him. The mentioned is taken aback when Ness comes and sits with him.

“I’m on my break so don’t worry,” Ness sipped his water, “but spill. You seem like you’ve got something worrying you and I want to help.” Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t even know you… Ness.” He said, glancing at the other’s name tag. “So?” Ness kept the conversation going, ignoring how his heart fluttered when Mike said his name.

Mike just sighed softly, drinking his water as well. “I guess… Um, I just can’t find a babysitter for my little sister for tonight. My usual one is sick and I really need to go to work.” Mike explained while he stirred his drink with his straw. “I can watch her!” Ness almost yelled, nearly spilling his own water.

The shorter blinked owlishly. “Seriously? Again, I don’t even know you.” He let go of his drink, staring at Ness, who just waved his hand. “The name’s Ness. And now you know me!” He smiled brightly, making Mike want to reciprocate it. “I’m free tonight and you need a sitter. I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. Just a guy who wants to help a pretty boy like yourself.” Ness reached over the table, clasping Mike’s hand and looking into his eyes. The words and actions caused them both to blush and Ness quickly moved his hand away.

Mike sighed again, reaching back to scratch his neck. “I… I guess? I get paid tomorrow so I can pay you then. Just don’t hurt my sister or I’ll make you regret it.” Mike threatened Ness but all Ness saw was an adorably angry puppy. But he filed away that thought for later and nodded. “Don’t worry about paying me! This’ll just be my good deed for the day.” He reasoned.

The other didn’t argue, figuring it would be a losing battle to try to. Instead, Mike grabbed a napkin and a pen he kept in his work uniform. “Here’s my address and my um, my phone number.” He stuttered over his words, writing said things on the napkin.

Ness gave him a kind smile. “What time should I be over tonight?” Mike thought it over for a second. “7 works for me.” Ness nodded. “And 7 works for me too. My break should be about over but I’ll see you then, pretty boy.” Ness grabbed the napkin with one hand and the other took Mike’s hand again. Confidence filled him as he reached down and kissed the hand he held. Mike watched, flustered, as Ness then stood up and walked away.

◞♡࿐

Ness turned up to the Schmidt’s house 10 minutes shy of seven o’clock. He was a bit nervous about meeting Abby for the first time and babysitting her so he tried to channel some of the confidence earlier.

But then he knocked on the door and Mike answered it shirtless and his attempts were thrown out the window. The shorter must have just gotten out the shower the way his hair was wet and a towel was wrapped around his waist. “Sorry about… this.” He motions to his chest. “Shower. Um, I told Abby about you. She might be shy…” Mike talked more than he ever had before and here Ness was, spacing out and practically drooling at the sight of Mike.

“Ness!” The mentioned blinked a few times, returning to the world of the living. “Y-yes!” He nearly shouted. “Are you okay?” Mike asked with furrowed brows. “Of course! Why do you ask?” Mike frowned. “You’re bleeding.” He pointed to his nose, indicating where the blood was coming from. Ness swiped a finger under his nose. He copied Mike’s frown when he saw blood on the finger.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll help you before I go to work. Don’t get blood on the floor!” The shirtless man left the room, his little sister taking his place. She stared at him knowingly and suddenly, Ness wanted to die right there and then.

#mine #my fanfics #text #fnaf movie #Mike schmidt #ness #ness the waiter #securitywaiter #dreamtheory #mike schmidt x ness #mike schmidt x ness the waiter #fnaf #five nights at freddy’s movie #five nights at freddy's

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - October 8th

Hey all! I’m back from my vacation and omg it was so relaxing and lovely and I read SO SO MUCH! I finished a book series I started in August (GAY. WEREWOLVES!) and then read about a million words of fic. If you read anything--give them a comment/kudo! 

~*~ 

No Greater Punishment by KandiSheek

Tony asks Steve out on a date, and Steve – thinking it's just one of Tony's flings – refuses. Then Tony gets a boyfriend. The relationship lasts a week, a month, two months, and Steve slowly realizes... that could've been him.

When Emma Falls in Love by iam93percentstardust 

She waits and takes her time

'Cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain

When Emma falls in love, I know

That boy will never be the same

~

“Nice?” Kamala exclaims. “It’s way past nice! It’s the cutest thing ever because his bracelet had his phone number on it! He was hoping to ask you out!”

Tony blinks. Steve Rogers, All-American good boy and quarterback extraordinaire, wants to throw his hat in the ring? He wouldn’t be the first person to toss his name out there, but most of them have just tried to DM him or tag him in their posts. No one’s shown the kind of thought and effort that Steve apparently put into his declaration. It’s a level of understanding and appreciation of who Tony is and everything he’s cultivated in his career that no one else has put in.

It is, to use Kamala’s word, cute.

Restless Gravity by AvengersNewB 

Omega Tony Stark gets bonded to a human-hating space warlord, to get his people a new home after the destruction of their planet.

Warlord - Arranged marriage AU, with a bit of a twist.

we'll live in spaces between walls by soliloquent

"Steve looks furious and defeated, and he's breathing like he just ran a marathon. He glances at the door over Tony's shoulder, slightly shivering, looking for an escape like he's on a battlefield. Perhaps he is.

This is not about the laundry anymore."

—⎊—

or: In the heat of a tense discussion in a cramped utility room at the Avengers Tower, Steve's deep-seated insecurities come to the surface. Tony witnesses a new and vulnerable side of him and realizes he has more in common with Steve than he thought. 🧺

Do Not Reply by FestiveFerret

When Tony starts replying to a "daily deals" donotreply email address from some random security supply company, he finds shouting into the void soothingly cathartic.

Less so when the void answers back.

ad astra by Areiton

The first time he kissed Tony Stark, the stars danced overhead.

Cardigan by Gayspacesprinkles, iam93percentstardust

When Tony is fourteen, his father announces that he’s going to marry Tiberius Stone, and he stops believing in Prince Charming.

August by Gayspacesprinkles, iam93percentstardust

August goes by slowly and altogether too quickly at the same time. He spends his days at practice in the morning while keeping his afternoons open in case Tony calls. The days smell like salt, despite being far away from the ocean, and the air is sticky in the Texas humidity. Sometimes, it gets too hot to do anything with Tony in the heat of the day, and it feels like a waste of the limited time they have together even though they spend all their nights together as well.

Sharing The Drink They Call Loneliness by KandiSheek

Tony has always thought that the pianist in his local bar, Steve, is way too good for this place. Tony wants to know more about him. And as it turns out, Steve wants the exact same thing.

Tony knows that he's playing with fire. But he's sworn off his old ways long ago. There's no way he will let himself fall for Steve. Right?

honey from your hive by meidui

"Whoa, hey, you okay?" Tony asks, hands flying out to steady him, so warm, the skin contact making him shiver. Steve tries to focus on Tony's face. "Cap?"

"You smell so good," Steve tells him honestly, sinking into Tony's arms because he can't hold himself up anymore. This should be okay because Tony is letting him do it: he presses his face into Tony's neck and sniffs, his tongue darting out just in time to feel Tony's pulse jump against it, and he licks—

"Steve, stop that," Tony says, sounding strangled as his grip tightens and Steve stops, letting Tony grab his face and tilt him up. "You're kind of scaring the crap out of me. What is it? What's going on with you?"

"We blew up the lab," Steve manages, and something dawns on Tony's face. "Everyone had a reaction 'cept me. Think 'm having it now."

Unbroken by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)

Destiny looks a lot like Captain America when it walks through his door, and even at ten, Tony knows that Steve is something wonderful. He's a protector, a friend, someone to turn to when his father is angry and his mother is lost in a haze of pills, someone who loves Tony unconditionally and would do anything for him.

When he's 15 that faith is put to the test by a car crash, and then, something worse.

What begins as a friendship blossoms into something deeper, something nuanced--a bond, unshakeable.

Unbreakable

the body i hold and whisper my darling by deathsweetqueen

Tony Stark is nineteen when he takes a seat at a bar, orders a shot of tequila, and twists his head to look at the man sitting beside him.

He’s older, in his thirties, early to mid-thirties, if he’s guessing correctly, maybe even just slightly less than twice his age, with dark blonde hair and a beard covering half of his face, and his eyes fixed on his beer.

“You look like shit,” he ends up saying, bluntly.

The man looks up, and he has these blue eyes, blue eyes like a summer storm, and Tony finds himself stunned, a little turned on, by how beautiful this man is.

He has the perfect ratio, Tony realises, the eyes and the hair and the jawline and the cheekbones.

His eyes drag lower, and the man is built, like seriously built, with wide, muscled biceps, and a tapered-in waist, and those long, strong legs.

“I feel like shit,” the man says, after a while.

Teenage Dream by shinkonokokoro

This was written for this prompt:

A battle with Loki leaves Tony de-aged physically and mentally to the time he was in college.

young!Tony takes it all in stride. He is duly impressed by his armor, confused and excited by all the superhumans (Thor and Hulk) around and then is smacked by the realization that the boring blond hovering around is actually his MAJOR childhood hero / crush / source of adolescent fantasies Captain America! Cue teen!Tony trying his best (and maybe succeeding?) to get into an increasingly flustered and blushy Captain America.

Bonus if teen!Tony is still way way more experienced than virgin!Steve and is *delighted* to get to top (and deflower) Captain America.

(Um, extra bonus for including a little bit of Rhodey and Pepper interacting with Tony. Also super bonus for Steve unearthing Tony's daddy issues by the dozen.)

touch me gently, like a summer evening breeze by quidhitch 

What is this, Tony’s brain screams. There are alarm bells going off in his head, but also, like, romantic violins. It’s very confusing. He focuses on the freckle beneath Steve’s eye instead.

Two in Fourteen Million by slimandalittlebitfoxy

“You wanna hear something stupid?” He took Steve’s silence as a confirmation, but didn’t think he could stop if he tried. “I carried around that phone the whole damn time. Since the day you sent it to me, I carried it. Just in case the world needed you.”

“I didn’t give it to you to let me know if the world needed me.” Steve looked up. Tony was frightened to see how much older he looked—maybe not in body, but in spirit. His jaw was set. He was angry too, though Tony would have bet money it was directed more at himself than anyone. “I gave it to you so you could call me if you needed me.”

“That’s the thing, Cap,” Tony said. “I always needed you.”

(The one where everyone lives.)

The Dotted Line by purpleicedteas 

Film trailblazer Steve Rogers was in need of a relationship to cover up his embarrassingly non-existent love life.

Tony Stark needed a relationship to slow down the playboy rumors.

Enter a PR relationship contract.

the long and short of it (stevetony games 2022 fills) by starvels (dinosaur) 

The challenge of whipping a nice pattern into Steve’s back, is that his healing rate really only gives about a 15 minute window in which to finish all of the strokes before the earliest lines begin to disappear.

The thought accosts Tony in the middle of team poker, the night before him and Steve are set to have a heavy session.

- latest fill: 616+established relationship+whipping kink negotiation

The Long Road Home by ladyshadowdrake 

Maria Stark told her son that the Mark on his wrist meant there was a special someone out there just for him. Sarah Rogers told her son that his soulmate was waiting for him, and he needed to be strong for them.

Neither of them ever mentioned what to do if that soulmate just doesn’t want them.

this is how you fall in love by complicationstoo 

Steve wants to have sex at least once before he graduates from college. He’s twenty one, never really dated anyone, and doesn’t see the point in waiting any longer.

He plans for just a simple one night stand with no strings attached, but his plan doesn't account for falling in love with Tony Stark.

It's Only Half Past (The Point of Oblivion) by LadyHabren (equalopportunityobsessor)

"I think it's generally agreed that all of Steve's senses are powered up by the serum? He can hear people whispering on the other side of the room, probably sees a hell of a lot further, etc.

But there are definite downsides. How does Steve control this side effect of the serum?"

Captain America is more than a man - he is a hero, he is an ideal, he is pure muscle held together by patriotism and moral fibre... And not even Captain America can fight it when his own brain turns against him.

I'm gonna be honest, by the time I got to the end of this story and went back to look at the prompt, I realized my fill was so different that I intitially thought I was looking at the wrong prompt... But I hope it's enjoyable nonetheless.

seven years in heaven by meidui

Tony gave Steve everything in the divorce. Their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and everything in it, Tony's beloved Audi, their private garden upstate. Tony even offered him the lakehouse, but Steve had looked up at him with red eyes and begged softly for him to stop.

Tony gave Steve everything, every last piece of himself. He didn't take much with him when he flew out to his mansion in Malibu, but he took every last piece of Steve, too.

love me naked by meidui

What kind of man wears makeup? Steve thinks to himself.

Love Calls You By Your Name by laireshi for MassiveSpaceWren 

Steve's boyfriend, Tony Stark, doesn't come home after Iron Man gets hurt when protecting Steve.

Look at my eyes, Don't even know who I am. by Perlmutt 

Deciding to take a break from the bustling city life, Tony found himself on a deserted island somewhere near the South American coast. Only JARVIS and DUM-E accompanied him here. This was the perfect place for him to clear his head and focus on his studies. The sun was warm, the sea beautiful and the animals peaceful. But in the jungle around him waited an adventure for him that he couldn't have dreamt of.

Because he was not alone. Blue eyes watched him.

A man as wild and untamed as the jungle around them...

Wait & Sea by Lenalena

In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Devil with an Easy Grin by ladyshadowdrake 

Steve meets a charismatic stranger at a club for a one night stand, and expects to never see him again.

#stevetony weekly #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #stony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

Halloween (chapter 3)

Book: Open Heart

Chapter: 3/7

Character(s): Jensen Valentine

Rating: Teen

Words: 947

Chapter Summary: A glimpse at Jensen's med school graduation

A/N: sorry

Lyrics:

I'm leavin' this town and I'm changin' my address I know that you'll come if you want It's not Halloween, but the ghost you dressed up as Sure knows how to haunt, yes, it knows how to haunt

The loud sound of the tape ripping from the roll echoed across his apartment. He flattened it to the box, flipping it around and setting the tape to the side. In went yet another pile of clothes, perfectly folded and flattened to fit. He taped up the other side just as fast, grabbing the marker from the floor which was buried under a pile of bubble wrap and film from his bass, and quickly labeled the top and sides of the box.

Kicking it over with the others, he grabbed his glass off the table, half empty with some shitty, cheap whiskey and ginger ale. He continued to shove all the packing supplies into one corner. His former roommate was already gone, and he had to be out in two days, but keeping it clean was still easier than having to clean before his flight.

Everything he owned was packed away into a box besides one side-table’s worth of shit. He had space left in his suitcase for all of it, and the rest of the boxes would be dropped at the post office tomorrow. He only had a handful of them, namely filled with clothes and the few hobby-related items he kept, but any furniture or large items were sold.

It meant the apartment was mostly empty. There was that one side table that he was going to leave, and his bed was just a mattress in the middle of the floor now. Not that it was bad. Especially in comparison to some of his other living situations.

The only other thing in his room was his suitcase, which he rolled out to the open space that used to be the living room and kitchen. Stepping into the latter, he poured the rest of the soda and whiskey into his glass, mixing them around with one of the plastic butter knives left at the bottom of the former silverware drawer. 

There had been a number of parties and events he was invited to for the night but turned them down. He had a one-way flight to Boston in two days, and had to ship all his belongings in one.

His phone had been blowing up with graduation pictures, family dinners, after parties, and announcements all night. Picking up his diploma from the table, nestled on top of his cap and gown, he carefully tucked it inside his suitcase. He used a few shirts to cushion it before zipping it up once again.

Only a couple hours ago he had received it. He waited through all the other announcements until he was finally free to leave, and he practically had to fight through the crowds to get there. There were so many parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, cousins of cousins, and more clustered in groups around the large arena. 

He might’ve had some friends that would’ve been willing to go out with him to celebrate, but it was easier to go home and finish packing. 

It was easier to say his isolation was necessary rather than involuntary.

Just like it had been four years ago, undergrad graduation, when he sent an invite over text that got ignored

Just like it had been eight years ago, high school graduation, when he was told, to his face, that she’d be there, and then he never saw her again.

And maybe she was part of the reason why he thought it was so easy to be alone. She’d given plenty of practice—plenty of fucking disappointments. Maybe he should’ve invited her, but he didn’t want to set himself up again.

Every fucking picture on his feed made him want to vomit. Or scream. Or maybe just forget it was happening at all. All his peers celebrating with their families, out for dinners and probably home for the weekend, too.

What a thought: home for the weekend. Did they get homesick? Did they miss the people waiting for them? Or did they not have a place to be homesick for? Did they even have people waiting at all?

Home for the fucking weekend. Maybe it wouldn’t sound so foreign if she had bothered to tell him where she moved to after taking off the minute he was out of her hands.

He had narrowed it down to somewhere on the west coast, given sporadic posts about family vacations—fucking family vacations.

She traded him out for a new set of kids and a husband that lived in some beach house mansion even though she never took him to the beach because she hated it. 

But, you know, maybe it was just him, given how fast she ran away.

He put the phone down—maybe threw it—after blocking her account. Not for her sake, of course, but for his. For once, it was for him.

Standing up from the floor, he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his nose and eyes. Not that he had really cried in over ten years, but anything close felt like some sort of success. Some sort of way to beat the “boys don’t cry” notion out of himself.

He would bet money that she never thought of him. Probably too worried about her new kids and her new perfect life and forgetting everything she left him with. Years of therapy, several failed medications, a sealed record, a public trial, the worst mental break of his life, a failed career as a musician, a high school graduation, bachelors, doctorate, accepted residency position, and a fucking partridge in a pear tree.

Maybe it was better like that, though. Finally letting the fuck go, finally acknowledging that some parasocial relationship stalking her Instagram posts wasn’t normal. Maybe it’d be easier.

tagging: @jerzwriter @cariantha @kyra75 @gutsfics @inlocusmads @choicesficwriterscreations

#jensen valentine #open heart #open heart mc #open heart fanfiction #choices open heart

[dailyanarchistposts]

On Sunday, February 25, we received an email from a person who signed himself[1] Aaron Bushnell.

It read,

Today, I am planning to engage in an extreme act of protest against the genocide of the Palestinian people. The below links should take you to a livestream and recorded footage of the event, which will be highly disturbing. I ask that you make sure that the footage is preserved and reported on.

We consulted the Twitch account. The username displayed was “LillyAnarKitty,” and the user icon was a circle A, the universal signifier for anarchism—the movement against all forms of domination and oppression.

In the video, Aaron begins by introducing himself. “My name is Aaron Bushnell. I am an active-duty member of the US Air Force and I will no longer be complicit in genocide. I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest—but compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

The video shows Aaron continuing to film as he walks to the gate of the Israeli embassy in Washington, DC, puts down the phone, douses himself in a flammable liquid, and sets himself alight, shouting “Free Palestine” several times. After he collapses, police officers who had been watching the situation unfold run into the frame—one with a fire extinguisher, another with a gun. The officer continues pointing the gun at Aaron for over thirty seconds as Aaron lies on the ground, burning.

Afterwards, police announced that they had called in their Explosive Ordinance Disposal Unit.

We have since confirmed the identity of Aaron Bushnell. He served in the United States Air Force for almost four years. One of his loved ones described Aaron to us as “a force of joy in our community.” An online post described him as “an amazingly gentle, kind, compassionate person who spends every minute and penny he has helping others. He is silly, makes anyone laugh, and wouldn’t hurt a fly. He is a principled anarchist who lives out his values in everything he does.”

Aaron’s friends tell us that he has passed away as a consequence of his injuries.

All afternoon, while other journalists were breaking the news, we discussed how we should speak about this. Some subjects are too complex to address in a hasty social media post.

The scale of the tragedy that is taking place in Gaza is heartrending. It exceeds anything we can understand from the vantage point of the United States. Over 30,000 Palestinians have been killed, including over 12,000 children. More than half of all inhabitable buildings in all of Gaza have been destroyed, along with the majority of hospitals. The vast majority of the population are living as refugees with little access to water, food, or shelter.

The Israeli military is now planning a ground invasion of Rafah that will add untold numbers of casualties to this toll. It is not hyperbole to say that we are witnessing the deliberate commission of genocide. All available evidence indicates that the Israeli military will continue killing Palestinians by the thousand until they are forced to stop. And the longer this bloodshed goes on, the more people will die in the future, as other governments and groups imitate the precedent set by the Israeli government.

The United States government bears equal responsibility in this tragedy, having armed and financed Israel and provided it with impunity in the sphere of international relations. Within Israel, the authorities have effectively suppressed protest movements in solidarity with Gaza. If protests are going to exert leverage towards stopping the genocide, it is up to people in the United States to figure out how to accomplish that.

But what will it take? Thousands across the country have engaged in brave acts of protest without yet succeeding in putting a halt to Israel’s assault.

Aaron Bushnell was one of those who empathized with the Palestinians suffering and dying in Gaza, one of those haunted by the question of what our responsibilities are when we are confronted with such a tragedy. In this regard, he was exemplary. We honor his desire not to stand by passively in the face of atrocity.

The death of a person in the United States should not be considered any more tragic—or more newsworthy—than the death of a single Palestinian. Still, there is more to say about his decision.

Aaron was the second person to self-immolate at an Israeli diplomatic institution in the United States. Another demonstrator did the same thing at the Israeli consulate in Atlanta on December 1, 2023. It is not easy for us to know how to speak about their deaths.

Some journalists see themselves as engaged in the neutral activity of spreading information as an end in itself—as if the process of selecting what to spread and how to frame it could ever be neutral. For our part, when we speak, we presume that we are speaking to people of action, people like ourselves who are aware of their agency and are in the process of deciding what to do, people who may be wrestling with heartache and despair.

Human beings influence each other both through rational argument and through the infectiousness of action. As Peter Kropotkin put it, “Courage, devotion, the spirit of sacrifice are as contagious as cowardice, submission, and panic.”

Just as we have a responsibility not to show cowardice, we also have a responsibility not to promote sacrifice casually. We must not speak carelessly about taking risks, even risks that we have taken ourselves. It is one thing to expose oneself to risk; it is another thing to invite others to run risks, not knowing what the consequences might be for them.

And here, we are not speaking about a risk, but about the worst of all certainties.

Let’s not glamorize the decision to end one’s life, nor celebrate anything with such permanent repercussions. Rather than exalting Aaron as a martyr and encouraging others to emulate him, we honor his memory, but we exhort you to take a different path.

“This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

These words of Aaron’s haunt us.

He is right. We are rapidly entering an era in which human life is treated as worthless. This is obvious in Gaza, but we can see it elsewhere around the world, as well. With wars proliferating around the Mideast and North Africa, we are poised on the threshold of a new age of genocides. Even inside the United States, mass casualty incidents have become routine, while an entire segment of the underclass is consigned to addiction, homelessness, and death.

As a tactic, self-immolation expresses a logic similar to the premise of the hunger strike. The protester treats himself or herself as a hostage, attempting to use his or her willingness to die to pressure the authorities. This strategy presumes that the authorities are concerned with the protester’s well-being in the first place. Today, however, as we wrote in regards to the hunger strike of Alfredo Cospito,

No one should have any illusions about how governments view the sanctity of life in the age of COVID-19, when the United States government can countenance the deaths of a million people without blushing while the Russian government explicitly employs convicts as cannon fodder. The newly-elected fascist politicians who govern Italy have no scruples about consigning whole populations to death, let alone permitting a single anarchist to die.

In this case, Aaron was not an imprisoned anarchist, but an active-duty member of the US military. His LinkedIn profile specifies that he graduated from basic training “top of flight and top of class.” Will this make any difference to the US government?

If nothing else, Aaron’s action shows that genocide cannot take place overseas without collateral damage on this side of the ocean. Unfortunately, the authorities have never been especially moved by the deaths of US military personnel. Countless US veterans have struggled with addiction and homelessness since returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. Veterans commit suicide at a much higher rate than all other adults. The US military continues to use weapons that expose US troops to permanent brain injuries.

Members of the military are taught to understand their willingness to die as the chief resource they have to put at the service of the things they believe in. In many cases, this way of thinking is passed down intergenerationally. At the same time, the ruling class takes the deaths of soldiers in stride. This is what they have decided will be normal.

It is not willingness to die that will sway our rulers. They really fear our lives, not our deaths—they fear our willingness to act collectively according to a different logic, actively interrupting their order.

Many things that are worth doing entail risks, but choosing to intentionally end your life means foreclosing years or decades of possibility, denying the rest of us a future with you. If such a decision is ever appropriate, it is only when every other possible course of action has been exhausted.

Uncertainty is one of the most difficult things for human beings to bear. There is a tendency to seek to resolve it as quickly as possible, even by imposing the worst-case scenario in advance—even if that means choosing death. There is a sort of relief in knowing how things will turn out. Too often, despair and self-sacrifice mingle and blur together, offering an all-too-simple escape from tragedies that appear unsolvable.

If your heart is broken by the horrors in Gaza and you are prepared to bear significant consequences to try to stop them, we urge you to do everything in your power to find comrades and make plans collectively. Lay the foundations for a full life of resistance to colonialism and all forms of oppression. Prepare to take risks as your conscience demands, but don’t hurry towards self-destruction. We desperately need you alive, at our side, for all that is to come.

As we wrote in 2011 in reference to the self-immolation of Mohamed Bouazizi,

Nothing is more terrifying than departing from what we know. It may take more courage to do this without killing oneself than it does to light oneself on fire. Such courage is easier to find in company; there is so much we can do together that we cannot do as individuals. If he had been able to participate in a powerful social movement, perhaps Bouazizi would never have committed suicide; but paradoxically, for such a thing to be possible, each of us has to take a step analogous to the one he took into the void.

Let’s admit that the kind of protest activity that has taken place thus far in the United States has not served to compel the US government to compel a halt to the genocide in Gaza. It is an open question what could accomplish that. Aaron’s action challenges us to answer this question—and to answer it differently than he did.

We mourn his passing.

[1] In the email, Aaron specified his pronouns as he/him.

#gaza #palestine #aaron bushnell #self immolation #self harm #solidarity #protest #crimethinc #community building #practical anarchy #practical anarchism #anarchist society #practical #revolution #anarchism #daily posts #communism #anti capitalist #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism #organization #grassroots #grass roots #anarchists #libraries #leftism #social issues #economy #economics #climate change

[roo-ster-brad-shaw]

Desires in the Dark

A dark mafia romance between Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and female character

Warnings: Themes of torture, death, swearing, rough sex, sex without consent, kidnapping. Fluff and Smut. Suggested for those above 18 years of age.

Note: You can change the description and note of the fem character to match your needs. Most importantly enjoy reading all you filthy people 😉

PS: Sorry this a little less slutty than the last 2 chapters, but I wanted to post ASAP and didn't get time as I was travelling. Also, thank you for all the love and support! 😁

Chapter 4

I woke up the next morning from the best sleep I had in years. I always had the most horrible nightmares every night, but this night had been dreamless or at least I thought so. I closed my eyes as I took a deep breath, her face appeared before mine. Had she been my freedom from my night terrors? I exhaled the breath I had been holding. My phone rang and I picked it up while staring at the street below.

“Hmm?”, I hummed absent mindedly.

“Get ready bitchass, I’ll be at your place in 15 minutes to pick you up. Ask your bodyguard to get ready too.”

“Only if you track a name for me”

“A name?”

“Aditi”

“That’s all ya got?”

“Mhmm”

“Fuck. Any description?”

“Dark-skinned. Straight, dark hair. Deep, brown, doe eyes.” I caught myself before I could get lost in describing her and in-advertently revealing my true intentions.

“I’ll get you what I got.”

“Fine”, I replied as I cut the phone. I shot a text to Seresin- Get ready. Phoenix is coming to get us in 15

Noted- Seresin texted back.

I bathed and changed into my usual work attire- a simple coloured shirt and a suit on top. Today’s colours would be red on the inside with black on the outside, it seemed. I quickly descended the stairs after setting my hair in place and grabbing my Ray Bans. Jake stood there wearing his usual attire.

“Good morning, sir. Hope your night was pleasant?”

“Yeah, thanks Seresin. How about you?”

I could see the surprise etched all over his face as he simply nodded in response.

“Hey, grab a set of casuals. You’ll need it today.”

“Alright, sir, if you say so.” He was confused but did as I commanded. He wasn’t so incompetent after all. I too headed upstairs to pack myself a different suit set as I decided what I should wear for today evening. I wanted to go for a classic tux to match her gorgeous red slit dress, one that I had seen a couple days back in the window of a shop. I packed that and headed downstairs with Seresin.

“Do me a favour. Get my black Huracan and go to that dress shop. The one owned by Liv. Buy a red slit dress in XXL size. Tell her I’ll pay the next time I come there. Then come back to the office and show me the dress immediately.”

“Alright, sir. But will you and Phoenix manage without me?”

“We’ll be just fine Seresin.” He headed off with a curt nod. I saw Natasha parked outside and headed off to meet up with her. I got into her car and we drove off.

She broke the silence by saying, “I found the girl.”

“Phone number? Address?”

“Everything”, she smirked, “The question is- why do you want to know?” I gritted my teeth and she hummed in response.

“She owes me something and I just wanna make sure I get my dues”

“Alright. I’ll send the details to you.” She had conceded. This was so unlike her; she never gave up so easily. But I chose to count my blessings and move on.

The day’s business moved on and I was just waiting for Hangman to show up with the dress. I wanted to give it to her as soon as possible. It was now 9:30 am, just one hour had passed since I started working and I already wanted to skip to 7 pm. I scrolled through my phone and found the number for the best restaurant in the city. I wanted to take her there, to show her the power I had. I wanted to impress her with all I had, with all my achievements. I wanted to give her no reason to see another man as better than me. But, would all this be enough? I sighed as I heard my door creak open.

“I have brought a dress, as requested, sir.”

“Thank you, Jake. I appreciate it.” He nodded and opened the package, revealing the gorgeous dress inside. It was red, as requested. I was short enough, reaching about knee-length for her height, which made up for the lack of a slit.

I lost myself in my thoughts, which mostly consisted of picturing her in the gorgeous dress. I imagined her, walking into the restaurant, her dark eyes searching for mine in the crowd. As she finds me, she’s surprised and I stand up and grin at her. She walks over and I notice her light makeup and delicate jewellery that she dons very effortlessly. She looks fucking gorgeous. I pulled her into a hug, inhaling her heavy perfume. My thoughts then took a dark turn. I was kissing her now, my wet kisses trailing down her neck. I left hickeys and bite marks as I inched towards her breasts. I could feel her pebble nipples. I gently massaged them from over the dress with one hand as the other inched lower to finger her pussy. It was wet and tight. I entered her as she gasped in response. She moaned my name and buried her head into my neck. Her hands snaked around my neck, trying to maintain her composure and posture. I could feel myself getting hard just imagining it.

“Sir, shall I pack it back up?” His words shook me out of my day dreaming. I hummed in response and nodded.

“Change into your casuals as well. I need us to run another errand.”

“Alright, sir.”

“And bring the dress with you.”

We were parked near her house now. I could see a dark window, which I guessed was hers. She hadn’t checked her phone by now. Suddenly I saw movement in the window. I pondered for a few moments, formulating a text message. I suddenly got a call from Phoenix. I picked it up, utterly surprised.

“Parked under her house?” I was completely taken aback! How did she know?!

“Are you tracking me Natasha?!” I was going to rip her fucking head off if she was.

“Yep”, she said defiantly.

“What the hell! What is wrong with you! Leave me the fuck alone!”

“If you need help texting her or talking to her, I’m here to help.”

“I don’t need your fucking help!”

“Remind me how many girls have you actually dated? Like taken somewhere, spent more than a night fucking?”

“One”

“Only one, that being me.” I saw Hangman’s eyes widen as the cat jumped out of the bag.

“What’s your point?”

“I know more about romance than you do.”

“How come? How many guys have you dated?” I asked in a sing-song manner to annoy her.

“Definitely more than one. See, I can see you care about her. Let me help you, Rooster.”

“What gave you that impression?”

“You didn’t try to kill her when she spilt that drink. You didn’t try to force her. You bought her a dress. And I can presume you want to give her your all by the way you are actually planning this date?”

“How do you know about the club Phoenix?” I hissed into the phone.

“You do know who your chief of security is, right?” I grunted in response.

“Fine.”

“Good. Now, what exactly do you wish to accomplish with this ‘visit’ of yours?”

“Nothing. Just informing her that we have a dinner date at 7 pm and that I have a dress for her.”

“Fine. You should text her something very dominating yet sweet. She’ll like that.”

“Like what?”

“God, must I do everything?” She rolled her eyes. “Wish her a good morning. Ask her if she slept well. Then tell her about the date and dinner.”

“How’s ‘Good morning, beautiful. Hope you slept well and dreamt of me. Just a reminder, we have a dinner date @7 pm today. I’ll send you a dress and pick you up. Don’t be late. Love, Bradley.’”

“You’ll be a natural in no time.”

“Sent. You can go now. Bye.”

“Bye bitch!” She said enthusiastically. I rolled my eyes and smiled in response.

“Jake, why don’t you go deliver the parcel? I’ll wait here, I don’t wanna spook her.”

“Alright”, he sighed. I gave him a tight-lipped smile.

I sighed as I watched him go into the building. I heard the bell ring and saw two people move in the window. I had guessed right, albeit it was an educated one. I was now enthusiastic for the date. I let out a shaky breath as I smiled to myself. I could do this. I could manage both my commitments. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the head rest. I heard Jake close the door. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Thank man. I know this wasn’t in the job description but I’m really thankful to have you by my side.”

His eyes softened, “I’m glad you see it that way. And I’m happy to help out.” He grinned as he completed his sentence.

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #mafia rooster #mafia imagines #mafia fiction #rooster smut #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw mafia #mafia smut #mafia fluff #dark romance #dark au #rooster au #bradley bradshaw au

[thewayofthemandalorian]

all’s faire - chapter two

Pairing: Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader

Series rating: M

Chapter rating: M

Word count: 4,005

Notes: Chapter two! These two are still very much in the enemies stage of their relationship but there are developments made in this chapter. Thank you to everyone who’s shown their enthusiasm for this fic, especially @lowlights​ and to @ezrasbirdie​ for reading it over. I’m no longer putting “outside” links (AO3/taglist form) in my fics but they can be found in my bio and on my masterlist. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Comments/reblogs appreciated.

Chapter warnings: Swearing, enemies to lovers, medication mention, injury mention, tension, sex mention

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist (main) || masterlist (pero tovar)

A few, Pero Tovar thought-free, days later, your phone pings with an email notification. Most of your emails these days are shipping confirmations for books you’d preordered months ago. So you are surprised when an email from Pero Tovar pops up on your lock screen. 

Ugh. You’d been having a good day up until now. What did he want with you? A partner to kick some puppies? Someone to yell at sweet old ladies with?

The subject line is Medieval Faire. And, clicking it open, you see it’s addressed to a number of people. 

This note is to inform you that you have been accepted into the cast of the fifth annual summer medieval faire. Rehearsals for everyone are weekly and begin on June 4 at 8am at Lockwood Falls High School in the gymnasium. Do NOT be late. Please find your name and role from the list below. If anyone has any questions, do not hesitate to email me or Will Ballard. 

P. Tovar.

That’s got to be the most joyless “you got the job” email you think you’ve ever seen. Sure, it’s to the point, but can he not use some enthusiasm for once? You see your name below Cassie’s — role, tavern wench. Below your name is Sarah’s, also a tavern wench. And that’s it for the tavern by the looks of things. Unless there’s others that have yet to be confirmed. Or maybe there’s volunteers? Two people seems to be not enough to serve drinks to all the customers that will make their way through. Even on slow nights at the pub you used to work at, you never had fewer than four staff on. 

There’s a number of volunteers at the bottom of the list, so hopefully some of them are allotted to you and Sarah because otherwise it’s going to feel a lot more like work than Sarah and Cassie both said it would feel like. 

You read over the email again, certain the warning against lateness is directed at you. Asshole. At least your niece got in. That’s the important part, that she has fun. 

Getting up from the couch where you had been looking at job postings in a purely hypothetical manner (more for when Tess is more mobile and back on her feet), you check on dinner that’s cooking in the slow cooker — mac and cheese — before looking at your phone for the time; you still have fifteen minutes before having to go pick up Tess at her physical therapy appointment. You’ve prepared a nest for your sister on her bed for optimal comfort — Percocet and water bottle at the ready on her night table in case she needs it. 

Cassie’s due back from school at around the same time that you and Tess will be getting back from her physical therapy appointment. Since it’s almost the end of the school year, it’s crunch time for Cassie. Studying for finals, final assignments, all the fun stuff about school that you absolutely do not miss. Cassie’s a good student, though, on top of everything. You don’t know where she gets it from. Neither you nor Tess were ever ahead of schedule in school, so Cassie must come by it naturally. 

You’re not looking forward to a solid two and a half months of early weekend morning wakeups. Weekends are your sleep-in mornings. Where you roll out of bed at nine a.m. or later. To be honest, you’re surprised that a teenager is doing this willingly. But Cassie tells you it’s worth it. You’ll see about that. 

The alarm on your phone goes off, indicating that it’s time to go pick up Tess. It’s her third physical therapy appointment; it’s been kicking her ass, but in a good way. The therapist is optimistic for a full recovery; your sister was lucky, he said. The break had been clean. 

You drive across the town that you grew up in, the town you never thought you’d relocate to again. Not much has changed in the years since you left, for what you thought was for good. The only difference is that your parents had retired to Florida five years ago. 

Tess is sitting down in the waiting room when you arrive, a slightly pained expression on her face, mixed with utter exhaustion. 

“How’d it go?” you ask as you help her to your car. She grimaces as she buckles herself in.

“Painful. I’ll be glad when I don’t have to come here anymore.” Tess yawns.

“Did the doc give a timeline for when the boot can come off?” Your sister’s been chomping at the bit for the removal of the boot cast since it was first put on. 

Tess shakes her head. “No. Not really.” She sighs. “I don’t think they want to get my hopes up with a false promise.” 

It’s a mostly quiet car ride home; Tess is too worn out to contribute much to the conversation. “I got the part of bar wench,” you tell her. “Cassie’s wonderful and totally not grumpy teacher emailed me today.” 

Tess manages a smile; you’d told her all about Pero Tovar, both after the interview and after the information meeting. Both tirades had been punctuated with huffy sighs and rolled eyes and over exaggerated hand gestures, all on your part. Tess had just sat there, bemused by your passionate feelings towards Cassie’s history teacher. “Don’t contain your enthusiasm for my benefit,” Tess quips. “Try to keep some for Cassie, though.” 

You roll your eyes as you turn onto your street. “He’s just so…” You pause, thinking for the right word.

“Cantankerous? Annoying? Rude? Grumpy? Peevish? Assaholic? Another word that you didn’t use the last time you talked about him?” Tess offers with a smirk.

Pulling into the driveway, you offer her a withering glance as you put the car in park. “Very funny.” 

Cassie is just unlocking the door as you arrive, the timing could not be better. She turns to you with a grin. “Did you get the email from Mr. Tovar?!” she squeals. “We got in! And I’m a lady-in-waiting to Mrs. Garin!” 

You have to pause to remember who that is, a lot of new names and faces swirling in your mind. She comes to you; Mrs. Garin is the petite woman with long dark hair that Pero had talked to at the end of the information session. She’s playing the queen if you remember correctly. You think her name is Lin-Mae. “I did. Pretty exciting isn’t it, kid?” 

Cassie nods, her beam still plastered to her face. As always, her enthusiasm is contagious. You have to remember why you’re doing this. For her. “Can we watch Snow White and the Huntsman tonight?” An odd topic change if ever there was one. “Or maybe some episodes of Downton Abbey? Mr. Ballard and Mr. Tovar said we have to practice our accents.” 

Tess jumps in. “What about your homework? Any assignments left to do?” 

Cassie shakes her head. “Nope. I handed in the last one today. I have to prep for a history presentation but that isn’t until Monday.” She looks a little nervous, recalling what you told her about what Tovar said and you have another flare of annoyance at him that you try to hide.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure you have it down pat. Your mom and I will be your practice audience,” you reassure her. “But for tonight, mac and cheese and Downton Abbey. On one condition: we watch the Robin Hood movie with Russell Crowe as part of our research. It’s close to the time period we’re recreating.”

Cassie tries to hide a smirk. “You mean, the one with Oscar Isaac?” 

Busted.

- - - - 

 On Saturday at stupid o’clock, you pull yourself out of bed after pressing snooze as many times as possible without being late. For some ungodly reason, Cassie is bright eyed and bushy tailed when she meets you downstairs in the kitchen. Tess is still asleep. 

“I think we’re choosing our faire names today,” she says. You yawn again before grunting an unintelligible answer, your motions done by rote. 

Once you’ve had your first coffee, you’re more awake — or at least more willing to pretend you’re awake. You make another one for the road, topping up your tall travel mug. For the first time in a very long while, perhaps ever, you and Cassie are the first to arrive besides Pero and Will Ballard. 

Pero shoots you a look of incredulity. You return it with a questioning glare of your own, as if to say “what?” 

People begin to file in, a slow trickle at first and then a flood of them. It’s a smaller group than last time, since not everyone made the cut. Given how Pero seems to think you can do no right, you’re surprised you made the cut. 

He calls for attention at precisely 7:59:59 a.m. “Let us not waste time in retreading old ground. You all know who Will and Lin and I are and who we are playing. Let us instead go around the room. Introduce yourself using your real name, your chosen Faire name, and your Faire role.” He nods at Sarah to start.

“All right, hi everyone. I’m Sarah Bradford. Most of you know me already. I’ve been with the Faire since the beginning. As always, if you want to find me, I’ll be in the tavern serving drinks as Matilda.” 

Will Ballard nods a welcome back to her. Pero just gives a curt nod in approval. It’s clearly old hat for the two of them at this point; Sarah — Matilda, rather — isn’t introducing herself for Pero’s sake, except perhaps to confirm that she’s using the same name for Faire as she always has. 

You look down at the list of names clutched in your fingers as you listen absently to the others introducing themselves, first with their real names and then their Faire names. Cassie speaks beside you. “I’m Cassie Miller. Um, this is my first year in Faire —”

“Could you speak up a little bit?” asks Pero, not unkindly. 

Cassie nods. “And I’m a lady-in-waiting to her Majesty. And I was wondering if my name could be Clara?” 

“I don’t see why not,” Pero agrees. 

There’s a long pause and then you realize it’s your turn. “Oh. Hi.” You introduce yourself with a smile that has too many teeth, giving a wave that looks ridiculous. Sarah, already a good friend, gives a wave back. “Ummm. This is my first year doing this. I’m going to be a tavern wench with Sarah.” 

“Matilda,” corrects Pero as if you’re stupid. 

“Right, yes. Matilda. Sorry.” 

If Pero stares at you any harder, he’s going to burn a hole in your forehead. “And what’s your name, my dear?” he asks, the use of my dear almost mocking; you ignore it. You say your name and Pero sighs in frustration. “No. Not your real name, your Faire name.” 

“Oh, right.” You almost feel small in his presence. Looking down at the list of names to buy yourself a few seconds of time, you say the first one that crosses your field of vision. It’s a variation of your real name. Sarah hides a grin. Pero repeats it, almost disbelievingly, his voice flat. You can practically feel the tension in the room, all the fun sucked out as soon as he makes clear his disapproval. 

“Yes,” you say, with more confidence than you feel. “It’s period appropriate and I’ll be sure to remember it and respond to it.”   

There’s another eye-roll from Pero. “Glad to see you’ve given a lot of thought and effort,” he drawls flatly. You open your mouth to retort, but he’s moved on to the person standing next to you, evident that you aren’t worth his time or energy. 

Once everyone’s introduced themselves, you make your way over to Sarah, Cassie finding her friends. “Hey,” she says, your Faire name said teasingly. But her expression changes from teasing to one of concern when she sees your grimace. “What is it? Is it Pero again? Don’t listen to him; your Faire name is perfectly fine. He’s just a killjoy,” she says this part loud enough for him to hear. He pauses for a moment as everyone sits down on the mats on the floor for him to give his first accuracy lesson, but makes no other indication that he’s heard. As you sit down on a mat next to Sarah, he shoots you a glance that you miss but Sarah does not. She meets his gaze with a questioning one of her own as if to say “what’s up with you?” 

- - - -

The next few weeks are a crash course in medieval history. It’s all old information, given that history — specifically medieval — was your minor in college. So what if you scrolled on your phone, making arrangements and putting Tess’s appointment times into your calendar while Pero or Will Ballard discussed something that you had written papers and exams on? It doesn’t matter. No one’s going to quiz you while you’re serving them drinks. 

Your accent is more on the side of Eliza Doolittle than Lady Mary Crawley. But it works. And it’s as good as it’s going to get. You and Cassie and Sarah have full conversations using your Faire names in your accents to keep up the routine of it. 

After week four of mostly irrelevant-to-you history lessons, it’s time for costume fitting. Sarah brings a bundle of what look like bedsheets. You lift an eyebrow. “I thought I gave you my measurements?” you ask. 

“You did. Just wait until I lace it all together. You’re going to look great. Wine red or blue?” she asks. 

You look at the colourful fabric. “Ummm… Wine red, I guess.”

“Excellent choice.” Her own dress is green. Across the way, you see Cassie with the other nobility cast members; Lin-Mae is helping her into her own dress, a periwinkle thing. You put on the pieces of fabric as Sarah instructs you to. You’re still swimming in them when you’ve put on all of them. “Now comes the fun part. I would say you’ll get used to it, but, well…” She tugs on the laces.

“Jesus, Sarah!” you grumble.

“Who’s Sarah?” she asks.

Right. You’re supposed to be using the Faire names. “Sorry. Matilda.” 

Just as the dress is starting to have some shape to it, Pero Tovar chooses that moment to come inspect things. 

“How are things over here?” he asks. 

“Just peachy,” you say under your breath. 

He inspects you for a long moment, looking for any defect or thing out of place. Instead of feeling like a bug under a microscope this time around, you defiantly look right back at him. Checking him for any defect or out-of-place thing. He’s let his hair grow a bit, his beard more defined than it had been when you first met him. 

Usually he’s so well put together, but today he looks like he just rolled out of bed. You lift an eyebrow at his slovenly appearance. But, much to your chagrin, he’s still handsome as ever, even when he’s looking more like a slob than you thought you would ever see. You know part of the appearance is for his role of Captain Bastian. You wonder if he and the person playing Gideon are doing more practice after this.

“Everything’s finalized?” he asks. 

Sarah confirms that it is. “Yep. Matilda’s been my Faire name for five years, I’m not changing it now. William gave it to me.” 

The ghost of a smile quirks on Pero’s face; it’s the closest thing you’ve seen to a real smile on him. You find you want to see what a true-blue smile looks like coming from Pero Tovar. You’re sure, though you don’t know why, it would be like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Jeez. Where did that come from? you ask yourself.  “I know he did,” Pero murmurs. He turns to you, his imitation of a smile gone by the time he’s facing you. “And you?” 

Trying to catch your breath but quickly realizing that it will be fighting a losing battle when wearing this getup so tightly, you say, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

He gives you another quick once-over. You can’t tell if he likes you in the dress or not. “Still keeping the name?” he asks, still inexplicably annoyed at your name selection. 

“Yep,” you intone dryly, not bothering to hide your annoyance at his own annoyance; when Sarah and the others had mentioned the name, it had been in a fun, teasing, ribbing kind of way. Pero just sounds as he always does with you. Annoyed. To your surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t be given who he is, Pero practically snarls at you. 

“Come with me. I need to talk to you,” he spits before turning on his heel and quite literally storming out of the auditorium. 

“What is your problem?” you ask once you’ve reached an alcove for privacy. “You’re more tightly laced than I am and I’m the one wearing a corset.”

Pero actually rolls his eyes. “Are you taking any of this seriously at all?” he demands. 

“What?” you ask. “Of course I—”

“It does not seem that way to me. You clearly don’t give a shit about any of this. From the name you chose to your attitude to the way you don’t pay any attention. You spend more time scrolling your phone than listening.” 

“Okay, listen,” you manage to cut in. “I don’t know what your deal is, but you’ve been making me feel very unwelcome from the very fucking beginning. It’s just a name, okay? I know it’s not the most creative, I know that. But it’s period, I know it, I’m going to respond to it. Do you know where I currently live?” You don’t give him the time to respond, not even knowing why you’re going to tell him all this. “I live in my sister’s guest room. Everything I do these days is either for my sister or my niece. I’m on-call all the time, ready at the drop of a hat. That’s why I’m on my phone all the fucking time, so I can make sure my schedule is clear to do this, making sure that I have all her doctor’s appointments and physical therapy time in my calendar because guess who’s the chauffeur for the time being? Me.” You’re not complaining, you’d do anything for your sister and her daughter, but Pero doesn’t understand just how thinly stretched you are sometimes. “I know all this shit already, backwards and forwards. Because guess what? Not only am I here every fucking weekend on time, but medieval studies was my minor in college. I’m doing this as a way to support my niece who is having the time of her life doing this, so she can get her mind off worrying about her mom, because she’s passionate about this and I want to foster that passion even if it means giving up my weekends to do this and having to deal with you and your grouchy ass; I’m doing this to give Tess some space while she heals so we’re not always on top of each other — it isn’t a big house. I don’t know what your problem is with me, or why you seem to want me to quit, but I’m not going to, so you can give up your little crusade against me. If Cassie stays, then so do I. My internal organs are currently in a death grip in this getup and will be for six weeks. If none of what I just told you  indicates that I’m taking this seriously I don’t know what else to tell you. And another thing; if I go, you’re down half your barmaids. So I’m actually doing Sarah and you a favour by not dropppng out, even when you make it so fucking tempting.” You fix Pero’s hard glare with one of your own, refusing to break eye contact. You mean business, refusing to be cowed by this man. If he doesn’t respect you, you’re going to damn well make him.

Pero’s eyes flare and he holds your gaze for a long minute in a staring contest, a game of  chicken, both of you unwilling to be the first one to flinch. Eventually, though, after a long minute of staring at each other, his jaw set and his brow furrowed, Pero is the first one to look away; your diatribe seems to have set in and his face softens, softer than you’ve ever seen it before and likely softer than you’ll see it again. 

“Family is important,” he murmurs, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before, softer than you’ll likely hear it again. He has a faraway look on his face for a second before he remembers where he is. “It’s fine; you’re fine,” he says. It isn’t quite the ringing approval that you were half-expecting, but from Pero it’s practically high praise. And then he says the second most shocking thing all day. “I’m sorry.” 

Wait, what? You blink, not quite believing your ears. Surely you’ve stepped into Wonderland if you’re hearing Pero Tovar apologize. “What?” you sputter. 

Pero sighs, his jaw setting again. This is clearly a difficult topic of discussion for Pero. “This time of year is hard for me. Especially this year because…” He sighs again, changing his mind. “It doesn’t matter. But it is not fair that I have been taking it out on you.”

“No, it isn’t fair,” you can’t help but say, almost reproachfully. “But I appreciate you saying it. Thank you.” 

He gives you one last lingering look, a look you can’t quite put your finger on, and then he lets you go in a shared baffled silence. Sarah shoots you a questioning glance as you return to the auditorium, but you don’t say anything pertaining to your, quite frankly, bizarre interaction with Pero just now.

“Is he always like that?” you ask Sarah as she unlaces your dress enough for you to slip out of it, leaving you in your casual street clothes underneath; you neatly fold the bedsheet that is a dress and tuck it into your bag. “So uptight and intense?” 

Sarah shrugs. “He’s always been intense, but you seem to bring it out in him.” 

“Tovar just needs to get laid,” says a tall, burly guy coming up next to you. Dan, you think his name is. He’s playing Gideon, the lawman who is Tovar’s enemy in the context of the Faire. You snort at his assessment. “It’s true, the man’s practically been living like a monk for the past four years. And no, Daisy doesn’t count; they lasted all of five minutes,” he says when Sarah opens her mouth to protest. “He just needs to get laid,” he repeats, “might let out some of that pent up tension he’s got.”

Sarah pouts. “You guys need to be nicer to Pero,” she says, more to Dan than you. “You know it’s hard on him. He hasn’t been the same since William’s been gone.” 

You don’t know who this William is, or why he left, but whoever he is, he’s clearly important to the bunch of them. Though you fail to see what his leaving town has to do with anything.

“I promise, Pero will grow on you. Just give him time and get to know him and you’ll see, he’s just a big softie,” Sarah assures you again. 

You suppose you’re just going to have to take her word for it, even if Dan doesn’t seem to share her conviction. As you glance in Pero’s direction, you see that he’s chatting with a couple of other cast mates. You don’t know what troubles you more: the fact that he doesn’t deem you worthy to share his friendship with, or that it bothers you as much as it does.

 --- taglist in reblog

#pedro pascal #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #modern pero tovar #my writing #pero tovar x f!reader #my fic

[lily-janus]

Closer Than Before

Summary: Virgil comes back to find his apartment trashed and calls the police... but he didn't expect to have a history with the cop that arrived...

Pairing: post-romantic anxceit

Warnings: swearing, panic attacks, robbery.

Word count: 1,771

I'm late but this is my fic for the first day of @tss-anxceit-week Close & Distant, hope you like it!

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

Virgil froze as he entered his apartment.

Clothes thrown on the floor.

Window shattered.

Drawers half open.

Everything's just a big mess.

This wasn't how he left it when he left for work… he… he'd been…

Robbed.

As the realization sank in, so did the panic. His breathing became hitched, his heart pounding in his chest like a caged animal trying to break loose, spots decorating his vision.

He shakily tried to take deep breaths as he reached for his phone and dialed 911.

He could barely get the words out through his panicked panting to explain what happened and tell them his address, and then they hang up.

And now he has to wait.

It felt like years passed when he finally heard the sirens and rushed out of the building to greet the cops.

But he definitely was not prepared to see an achingly familiar face coming out of the police car.

He barely had time to turn his back and pull his hood tight over his face before… he spotted him.

The universe must truly hate him.

Like, seriously? What are the odds, out of all the cops in the city… Why him?

"I take it you're the resident of the robbed apartment?" He said in his usual smooth voice.

Without turning to face him, Virgil nodded.

"Okay…" he said slowly, "I'm going to need your name and a list of everything that went missing."

Fuck, fuck, fuck… this is so bad…

Why him? Why him? Why HIM?

"Not much of a talker are you?" The teasing, followed by the familiar chuckle, and Virgil's sure his eyebrow is raised too. "That's too bad for you cause I can't help unless you cooperate. I promise I won't bite."

God he can hear his smirk behind the words… some things never change…

A warm hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I know this is scary, but it's going to be okay, I'll do everything I can to help you. I just need you to work with me, alright?" And then… gentleness, so unexpected, so sweet… so needed.

With a long sigh, Virgil took off the hood and turned around to his ex's shocked face.

"Hey Janus…"

…

3 years ago

Virgil heaved a sigh as he dialed his boyfriend's number.

…and another when it went to voicemail for the 4th time.

He was sitting on the flat armrest of their couch, hugging his knees to his chest, staring at his phone as tears blurred his vision, 2 hours after Janus said he'll be home.

He's fine, he's fine, he's… he has to be fine…

Virgil knows Janus' job as a cop can have emergencies pop up that can delay him but… he can at least shoot him a quick text, he knows how easily Virgil's thoughts spiral.

He perks up when the door to their flat finally swings open to reveal his tired, but undoubtedly satisfied, boyfriend.

"You won't believe what happened!" Janus started as he closed the door behind him, "we got this random call that turned out to be just the clue we were missing and then… what's wrong?" Janus stopped, at last noticing Virgil's tear-stained face.

Virgil said nothing as he held up his phone to show the 4 missed calls, "I… I didn't know where you were… you didn't say anything I thought…" a choked sob cut him off and he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"Hey… I'm fine, see?" Janus said in that gentle tone of his that usually had Virgil melting… but not this time.

"A quick text is too much to ask? A small 'hey babe I'll be home late, don't stay up'? Is that really so hard? How am I supposed to know what's going on if you won't tell me?" Virgil hated how shaky his voice was right now but he was still recovering from the hours of imagining every worse-case scenario.

"Look, I'm sorry, there was so much going on I completely forgot I-"

Virgil held out his hand to stop him, "don't… just… don't, I can't do this anymore…"

Janus swallowed, voice wobbly as he asked, "what are you saying?"

Virgil stood up, not meeting Janus' eyes, "you clearly care more about your job than me… so lets spare you needing to choose… it's over, Janus, we're done." He turned his back to him, fresh tears streaming down his face as he walked out.

"Wait! That's not true!" Janus pleaded, grabbing his hand desperately, "please… give me another chance, I swear I'll do better!" His voice cracked.

Before he could lose his nerve, he shook free of Janus' grip, "you're out of chances…"

…

Now

"Virgil…"

Virgil couldn't read Janus' tone as he said his name, his voice full of emotion he couldn't place.

He wrecked a hand through his hair, "well… this is awkward…" he chuckled uncomfortably.

"You… you look good, I mean… you look like you're doing good… not that I don't think you look good good but um.." Janus mumbled then let out a sigh, "it's nice to see you." He finally said, giving him a small smile.

Virgil just shrugged, trying to ignore his pounding heart, "still a cop?" He half stated, half asked.

"What? This?" Janus gestured to his uniform, "nah, it's just a costume."

Virgil was surprised to find himself chuckling, making Janus smile at the sound. He always had a knack for making Virgil laugh.

Janus cleared his throat, "so um… you were robbed?"

The question brought Virgil back to the present and images of his trashed apartment flooded his mind.

His panic from earlier made a comeback as well. He was robbed. Someone snooped around his personal space, stole his things!

"Virgil? Hey, deep breaths okay? I promise it's not as bad as it seems just… breathe with me alright?" Janus took him by the shoulder, taking deep breaths to demonstrate and Virgil did his best to follow his lead…

Just like old times…

"There you go, now why don't you show me your place so me and my team can search the scene of the crime?" Janus said gently and Virgil nodded, anxiety still spiraling but at least he was breathing now.

The next few hours were a blur of Virgil watching the cops work and answering their questions and, before he knew it, it was just him and Janus again.

"Okay so, we'll check the security cameras to see if they got a glimpse of the robber and I'll contact your insurance so you'll get your money back for the TV they stole and the damadge to the apartment" Janus said, checking things off his list before closing his notebook and offering him a smile. "Everything's going to be okay."

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, feeling himself finally calming down, "thanks." He said lamely.

"So um… how've you been? It's… been a while…" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Don't you have work to do?" He intended it as a genuin question but it came out snappier than he meant, probably reminding Janus the main reason they broke up.

Janus breathed out sharply, nodding, "okay, yeah, I deserved that."

There was an awkward pause after that that seemed to stretch for hours but was probably only a few minutes.

"I've… been good." Virgil said slowly, "got a pretty good gig at a nearby pet store, pays well enough and my boss is obnoxiously sweet." Virgil said with a slight smile as he remembered Patton's freckled face smiling at him, "I guess that makes sense, given the fact he literally owns a puppies and kittens business." Virgil added, before briefly looking at Janus.

"How about you?"

Janus chuckled nervously, toying with something familiar on his wrist that Virgil didn't notice up until now.

His voice was thick when he asked, "you're still wearing it?"

Janus' cheeks flushed a deep red as he looked down at what his hands were doing, playing with the bracelet Virgil made him for his birthday back when they were dating. "I… never took it off.." he admitted, the red on his cheeks deepening.

Virgil felt an ache in his chest, "I'm sor-"

"Don't," Janus shook his head, "you were right… I was a total jerk to you… I didn't have my priorities straight back then." He explained.

"And, to answer your question, I'm doing pretty well too. I'm pushing to get a promotion soon which would hopefully let me have more control over my hours so I can spend more time with Logan." Janus answered, his voice going soft on the name.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, "Logan? Who's that?"

Janus cleared his throat, "no one! Really!" He added when he saw Virgil's skeptic look.

Virgil chuckled, "if you say so Lover Boy." He laughed harder when Janus flushed once again at the nickname.

This was… this was going surprisingly well. Sure, it was a bit awkward at first but… he forgot how easily it felt to just.. Be, when he was with Janus, regardless of the nature of their connection.

And he was also relieved that he didn't seem to hold on to the same feelings he felt before towards Janus.

"I missed you." Virgil was surprised to find himself saying that, knowing it was true.

Janus flashed him his signature smirk, "couldn't stop thinking about me huh?"

Now it was Virgil's turn to blush, "you wish… Though I did have a thought or two about all those hoodies you stole from me."

Janus pretended to be offended, "you gave those to me!"

"I let you borrow them because you kept whining about how cold you were every time we were going out." Virgil corrected with a smirk of his own.

"Well sucks for you, I have no idea where they are." Janus insisted, tone still playful.

"Liar." Virgil snorted.

They smiled at each other when Janus' phone suddenly rang.

He shot Virgil a regretful look before going to the side and answering, coming back after a few minutes.

"Sorry but… I gotta go now." He said through a sigh.

Virgil shrugged, "that's fine… it was… nice to see you too, Jan."

The use of the familiar nickname seemed to light up Janus' face, "yeah… I'm glad I came here." He turned to leave.

"And hey, don't be a stranger, alright?" Virgil shot him a small smile when he turned around, his expression a mixture of relief and surprise.

"I won't… and, you have my number… I'll see you soon." And with that, he finally left.

They were never going to go back to the way they were… but maybe this was better, healthier…

Closer…

#sanders sides #tss-anxceit-week #anxceit week 2023 #close & distant #virgil sanders #janus sanders #post romantic anxceit #anxceit #Lily writes #tw panic attack #cw robbery #cw swearing

[slutforstabbings-archive]

Number 5 with a Bullet - June 13th -21st

read on AO3 | tumblr masterpost

Writer recounts the first two weeks of Eddie and Apologetic Weapons being in the studio - big shoutout to my bestie @hersweetrevenge for helping me name the band <3

general contents/warnings for this fic: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI), 20+ year age gap, past substance abuse issues, past sex work, multiple kinks specific warnings for these entries: sex dream, bondage, being watched, degradation, masturbation

1,927 words

@rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires @toxicanonymity @cordelium @persephone-of-roleplay dm me or reply to this post to be added to my tag list 💕

transcript below the cut

13 June

Yesterday was Apologetic Weapons’ first day in the studio! Thank fuck the schedule was so empty and they were ready to come in. It would’ve been torture to have to wait three months or schedule them at one of the studios separate from the offices. 

The shirt I wore was basically lingerie, haha. I love working somewhere with no real dress code. And maybe I put a ton of lotion on so my tattoos would be nice and bright and shiny, and maybe I spent longer on my hair and makeup than usual too. I felt kind of silly — I’m not a fucking Rock of Love contestant lol — but what was the alternative? NOT have my tits out to meet Eddie Munson?? I would never forgive myself.

When he came out of the elevator I caught myself holding my breath. I can’t even remember the last time I was starstruck, I don’t think it’s happened since I was an intern. When Rina was my first supervisor and I’d barely started at the label, she told me “Forget everything you think you know about famous people. Just think of them like any other stranger.” I kept repeating it to myself, he’s just like any other stranger. Just an extremely hot older stranger. I know how to handle those. 

Somehow he’s even better looking in person. Like he has THE most beautiful eyes and feathery lashes. And like, I knew that! But seeing it IRL is something else. I called him Mr. Munson and he got all offended and had this big exaggerated reaction to it. He was like “PLEASE! Call me Eddie.” Ugh, yes sir. Whatever you say.

While I was showing him around he lingered behind me a couple times. I was like, omg is he checking me out? He was very subtle but no one fools me, haha. So I made sure to find an excuse to bend over to double check and he SO was. My heart was racing and I was soaked, then and now again writing about it. I mean, I dressed extra hot on purpose, but in my wildest dreams I didn’t think it would work! When I told him my name, he repeated it and made sure to address me by it a couple times, like he was really committing it to memory. 

He and the boys ran kinda late and I was just sitting at my desk reading when they came out. I guess I forgot to tell him that I don’t get to leave until they do, Eddie was so surprised I was still there, and he apologized profusely for keeping me late. I was like it’s so not a big deal, but he insisted on walking me to my car!!

And he said “What is this? 90’s Le Baron?” And I told him it’s a 92 Acclaim, and then we both said “they shared a body” at the same time! Oh my fucking god. He laughed and said “I knew you would drive something cool.” Cannot express in words how it felt driving home in a car that Eddie Munson thinks is cool.

Then this morning the phone was ringing as I was getting off the elevator and I had to run to catch it in time. It was Eddie. He asked me for my coffee order and I was like you do not have to get me anything and he was like, no, I kept you late, let me make it up to you. So I told him what I wanted but I was like you so don’t have to get me anything and he said “Sweetheart, I’m getting you coffee, and you can’t convince me otherwise,” and fucking hung up so I couldn’t protest any more! When he came in he had coffee for the AW boys and his production assistants too, so it wasn’t just for me, but I still couldn’t believe I was included. Usually producers just forget I’m there if they don’t need me. And that’s fine, they’re focused on their job, and I’m focused on mine. But Eddie fucking Munson remembered me. Eddie fucking Munson brought me a latte.

18 June

Ugh, I really want to talk to someone about Eddie. Not that there’s that much to talk about. Disappointingly little, in fact. But I’ve had this policy for years — I don’t mention who’s in the studio or how it’s going until I see that project getting press. I’m not under NDA with Apologetic Weapons, and I know if it’s a secret-secret I’ll be asked to sign something. But even without the paperwork, it just seems uncouth to blab about everyone I put on the schedule. I’m kind of scared to, honestly, even after all this time. Maybe it’s irrational, but I would feel so fucking stupid if I was the one who fucked something up by letting the cat out of the bag. I haven’t even told my mom I met Eddie even though she loves Corroded Coffin. She’s not exactly running a leaks Twitter, but you know…

Based on Monday and Tuesday, I would’ve thought there’d be a lot more going on between us by now. I’m not even sure if he’s flirting with me or just weirdly nice. I’m still figuring out how to take him. I THINK he’s flirting but idk… He’s acting shy, like he doesn’t know he’s HIM. It’s disarming, I feel totally off my game.

Every day he comes in early and waits for the boys in the lobby instead of in the studio, leaning on my desk. He’s been asking me where I’m from, how long I’ve worked at the label, super basic questions honestly. But he’s asking the same way he repeated my name —  like he really wants to know and remember. Since I’m kinda floundering, I’m just following Rina’s advice, trying to get to know him like I know nothing about him.

And, even though I’m a lifelong CC fan, I really don’t. I spent my formative years glued to MTV and VH1 (and Fuse, when we could afford extra channels), so I saw all the messy coverage of him in the 00’s. I always wanted him to do a reality show, like Ozzy and Gene Simmons did, but I never watched or read anything about him outside of whatever was airing when I got home from school. So I’ve learned a lot about him. Apparently his hometown is a backwater shithole, so we have that in common. He was held back a couple of times in school and was finally a month away from graduation when CC got signed (by mailing their demo to labels! That actually used to work, haha). He wanted to finish since he was so close. He would’ve been the first in his family to ever do it. But the label was like you go to the studio or you lose your shot, so he fucking went. He’s super proud to have gone to college in his 50’s. It was so sweet when he was telling me how much it meant to him, like I couldn’t help but feel proud of him too. 

Anyway I’ve just been wearing my skimpy little outfits and trying to match his energy, keeping it coy enough for plausible deniability. I always dress this way, I was just being polite. Just in case I’m wrong about him being into me. We’ll see how this week goes.

21 June

I had a dream about Eddie last night. 

When he comes into work and puts his hands on my desk and he’s got all those big ass rings and heavy chain bracelets on and his nail polish is chipping and he’s drumming something idly on the countertop… I always want him to touch me so fucking bad. I fell asleep thinking about his hands and squeezing my thighs together.

He was on Cribs when he was married to Paige Peterson (wife number 2, his longest marriage), and they had this super luxurious Rococo-inspired bedroom, but it wasn’t pastel like Rococo usually is, it was dark purple. They had this huge four post bed with curtains, and a mirror on the ceiling. I used to fantasize about that bedroom when I lived in teeny tiny dorms and that shitty crumbling punk house. 

In my dream we were in that bedroom, and he had me tied to the bed posts by my wrists and ankles. The room was full of paparazzi and they were all dressed like it was the 50’s, with big flashbulbs on their cameras that kept going off and blinding me. 

Eddie was edging me with his fingers and he was being so mean, making fun of me for begging and struggling against the restraints, laughing and telling the paps to make sure they got good photos of how pathetic I looked, and saying I was gonna be on the cover of all the magazines for the whole world to see. Of course, just as he switched to praising me and was gonna let me cum, I fucking woke up. 

I wasted a ton of time masturbating totally fruitlessly, and I was almost late. I KNOW when I wake up from a sex dream, real life never compares and I can’t fucking cum, but I had to try anyway. I didn’t want to be super frustrated and have to be around him all day, but that’s exactly what happened. 

He left for lunch today to give the boys alone time to work out a riff or something, and when he came back he put his hands on the desk and his nails were freshly painted and his rings and bracelets clinked on the counter and I thought I was going to fucking combust. I was literally hot and bothered, I felt like I was gonna start sweating, so I held my hair up off the back of my neck without thinking and he saw my fucking Corroded Coffin tattoo. 

He was like “Well, hello. What is that?” and gestured for me to turn around so he could really see it. I said, “That is my oldest tattoo.” And he said “let me guess, it’s… five years old,” totally underestimating on purpose. I said “try fifteen,” and he said “wait, I’m sorry, you’ve been alive long enough to have a fifteen year old tattoo?” So I said “Well, it wasn’t legal for me to get a tattoo, but it WAS legal for me to drive myself there… with a licensed driver twenty one or older in the front seat.” 

I could see him estimating in his head and then he said “Well, it looks a lot better than my illegal tattoos did when they were fifteen. Now all of me is ancient and my tattoos all look like shit.” FINALLY! He was pulling a trick I used to see men do all the time. It’s so simple I don’t think they even do it on purpose, but I’m onto them, haha, and I was onto him, sneakily trying to assess how taboo I think the age gap is. So I said “Shut up, you’re not even that old! 50 is the new 40. And I think your tattoos look great! A little dated for sure, but, you know…”

It was like the air between us totally changed, and he laughed and smiled this Cheshire Cat smile and then he just… went down the hallway to the studio. 

UGH. My vibrator has a lot of work to do tonight. 

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