#but boy narrowing these down to only ten songs..

[nellipusen]

10 songs / 10 people

I was tagged by @bees-n-bones <3

Misbehavin' - Pentatonix

Du som er ung - Gåte

HEAVEN - Troye Sivan

War of Hearts -Ruelle

Tålt - Bjørn Eidsvåg

Lightweight - Demi Lovato

I Think it's Going to Rain Today - Katie Melua

For the First Time - The Script

I Can Only Write My Name - Will Jay

Stjernesludd - Kurt Nilsen

I'm tagging @simplybecauseofreasons @screamingbear @ilikestopwatches @lessproblematical @smallsaltyfrog @testing-tranquility @projectbrotzman @i-do-write-tragedies @capn-james-t-spirk @sonjuponju and anyone else who wants to do this too!

#that ended up wit \h fewer norwegian ones than i expected #its fun to see that these tagging games are still going on #but boy narrowing these down to only ten songs..

[abiiors]

promises to keep // matty healy x reader

valentine's week - day 4: promises to keep

a/n: four times he keeps his promises and the one time he doesn't. that's it, that's the fic. cw: a whole lot of teenage yearning, mentions of high school bullying. worm??? wc: 4.8k

matty’s ten when she first barrels into his life like a little storm cloud. 

they’re both at his mum’s overly fancy christmas party—matty’s fuming the whole time, wrinkling his nose in disgust at everything because he’s ten and quite frankly a little shit. his mum wants him inside, being a good boy for the guests. 

his gran wants him to serenade them with old frank sinatra songs. 

and matty just wants to go outside and play in the snow. it’s a rare white christmas—the snow doesn’t usually stick until late january but this year it’s thick and powdery and so fluffy white that he constantly keeps running to the windows to press his little face against them. 

the party’s boring! everywhere he looks there are grown ups laughing at grown up jokes that he has no interest in, so matty takes his chance and sneaks away again, running to his preferred window. when he turns the corner, someone’s already there, pressing their face against the window just like he had. 

matty realises it’s a girl. she looks about his age, maybe a bit younger, but he’s never seen her before. on the one hand, she’s the first (and perhaps the only) person at the party who’s his age. on the other hand, she’s a girl. 

when his footsteps falter, she turns to look at him. 

“who are you?” she asks, nose turned up like she owns the place. matty’s eyes narrow. 

“who are you?” and then his eyes move to the palm of her hand that’s cupping something, something that looks suspiciously like a— “is that a snake?”

he screeches and she scrambles to shush him. 

“he’s not a snake! he’s a worm,” she snaps back quickly. “and can you not be so loud? i don’t need my mum to know.”

“why not?”

“oh,” her cheeks redden and she shields the worm away with her other hand, almost protective. matty wants to smile. “well, my mum says bug can’t come with us to parties.”

“bug? i thought you said he was a worm.”

she rolls her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. then she presents the wriggly thing in front of him, beaming and proud. “his name is bug, silly!”

“bug the worm?” matty drawls. he can’t tell if he’s impressed or not but the worm certainly looks interesting. 

“yeah!” she grins. matty notices her front two teeth are missing. “anyway mum says bug can’t come with us to parties but i didn’t wanna leave him alone at christmas. that’s just mean.”

matty nods. the logic checks out. before he can say anything though she sighs like all the burden of the world is on her shoulders. “i wish we could go outside though. i really wanna play in the snow.”

matty contemplates an idea—he wants to go out in the snow, and so does she. and now that there’s someone else to keep him company, someone who could maybe even be a partner-in-crime, his whole face lights up. 

“let’s go then!”

“but—”

“can you sneak out or not?” 

she looks absolutely scandalised at the suggestion. the worm raises its head and matty wonders what it’s thinking, if it wants to go outside too. 

“come on!” he whines, “i’m sure bug will love the snow too.”

he can almost see the gears in her head turning then. she looks around them, neck craning to see if there are any adults in sight, ready to catch them and tattle on them. 

“i promise you won’t get in trouble,” he declares and extends his pinkie at her. he tries to look as serious and solemn as possible. she eyes him skeptically for a moment, narrowing her eyes and staring him down. then a mischievous glint enters her eyes, and with a determined nod, she hooks her pinkie around his.

they quietly slip away to the back door. matty leads the way, occasionally checking over his shoulder for any adults. behind him she grins with palpable excitement. the door opens with a little creek and cool air blows in. 

they both shiver and then burst into a fit of giggles. 

they scamper into the snowy yard, trying not to laugh so loud and alert their parents but matty can’t help but gloat about having successfully snuck out. his excitement is infectious though because she joins him too, making snow angels and throwing snowballs at the back of his head. 

she even sets bug down, and matty watches fascinated by the way the worm wriggles through the cold fluff. 

all in all they get five minutes of absolute bliss before he hears his mum’s voice, calling out for him. matty pales. 

“my mum!” he winces and instinctively steps in front of her. “go, go, go!” he almost snaps at her.

“go where?”

“i don’t know, hide or something!” his voice thins and matty almost pushes her behind a big tree in the yard. “i promised i won’t let you get into trouble, didn’t i!”

she’s about to say something but he shushes her again, pulling her to the tree so she’s hidden behind it. 

“i’ll keep the back door open for you,” he whispers and then makes a run for it. 

by the time his mum catches him, looking sheepish and suspiciously damp, matty’s already inside. the door’s almost closed behind him and he wilts unders his mum’s disapproving gaze. 

“matthew…” she sighs. “what did we talk about?”

“i know, i know…” he drags his feet and follows her inside with a grumpy pout on his face. minutes later the girl sneaks back inside, absolutely undetected. 

bug the worm scurries away into the night, makes a run for freedom, but like the snow, their friendship sticks. and so does the name “bug”.

matty's thirteen when he finds her sniffling in the abandoned girl’s bathroom on the third floor. he’s technically not allowed there but that’s never stopped him before. besides, he knows that’s where she would be if he can’t find her anywhere else. 

“bug?” he calls out tentatively and waits for a response. she sniffles quietly and matty frowns. “you okay in there? can i come in?”

a beat goes by and then she responds with a wobbly “sure.”

when he finally finds her huddled in a cubicle, face red and splotchy, his frown deepens. 

“what’s wrong.”

she turns her face away and loudly blows her nose into some toilet paper. “you won’t get it.” 

matty makes a face at her. “is it about a boy?”

she whips her head at him and gives him an absolutely withering glare. matty tries not to squirm under it but she looks just about done with him and so he sighs and raises his hands in surrender. “i’m sorry, alright? will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

the apology softens her a little but she still looks as devastated as ever. her knees are bunched up to her chest, and she puts her head on them, mumbling something indecipherable. 

“what was that?” he asks and strains his ears more. 

“i got my period!” she snaps and matty’s mouth morphs into an ‘o’. as a teenager, the whole period topic is currently his least favourite. he remembers learning about it in biology, he remembers the mortification and the juvenile giggling and matty shudders. well, almost shudders because another withering glare shuts him right up. like she’s daring him to make another stupid comment. 

“oh.”

“yeah,” she sniffles and blows her nose once again. matty looks at her properly then, at her teary eyes and wobbling chin and all his disgust from a moment before fades into concern. 

“are you…okay?” he asks softly, “do you need something?”

reluctantly, she nods and takes a deep breath before launching into the story. 

“i though my stomach hurt because i ate something weird, you know? i didn’t-i didn’t know… i’ve never… it’s my first time,” she scrunches her eyes shut and matty pats her knee, kind of at a loss for words. “well i didn’t realise i’d stained my trousers until… until suzy chapman from year 8 pointed it out. she was so loud about it too.” her lips quiver again and she dissolves into a fresh round of tears. 

matty sighs. “have you been to the nurse yet? for…i don’t know, whatever you need.”

she shakes her head. “i don’t wanna go out like this, everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

matty’s chest aches at how small her voice sounds. with a fresh round of concern he realises she must be in more pain. he doesn’t know much about periods really, but he knows how his mum can’t really do much for the first day or so every month. so matty shuffles next to her, their knees touching and thighs pressed together. 

“how about i come with you?”

she shoots the idea down instantly. “i’m not leaving till school’s done for the day and everyone’s gone home.”

“bug, that’s four hours away!” his voice rises, tinged with incredulity but she just shakes her head and mumbles a “that’s fine.”

“no it’s not,” he declares. he’s never felt so much indignation in the thirteen years he’s been alive but matty is absolutely determined to make this right. “i promise you no one will make fun of you. they will have to deal with me first.”

she gives him a watery chuckle, more tears leaking that she wipes away quickly. “you’re a twig, matty. you can hardly fight.”

matty feels a warmth in his chest when he finally sees her crack a smile. “i’ll cover you,” he says, “come on, bug. it’s not that far away.”

she uhms and aahs a bit more, trying to make excuses but in the end matty manages to convince her. then he stands, brushes his trousers and extends his hand to her. it takes her another thirty seconds to swallow nervously, but in the end she takes his hand and pulls herself up. 

she’s a bit taller than him, much to his annoyance, but for once matty keeps his mouth shut and motions for her to go ahead, protectively hovering behind her, blocking the stain with his body. he fiercely glares at anyone who so much as looks at her for more than a second. many of the boys in their year whoop at him, some girls roll their eyes but matty pays attention to none of it. 

he sticks to following her around until they reach the nurse’s office. he’s actually quite proud of himself if he’s being honest. 

she hesitates at the door, and matty squeezes her hand reassuringly. “go,” he says. “i’ll be right outside.”

the smile she gives him then is one he’s never seen before—it’s warm and adoring. she looks at him like he really matters. she looks at him like he’s something special. irreplaceable. 

matty shakes his head, ignoring the silly thoughts, and stays put outside. just like he’s promised.

matty’s sixteen when the list first comes out. it’s a vile little thing—something none of his friends interact with, but the entitled, rich twats pass it around like it’s a designer strain of weed. by now the paper’s quite crumpled, unfolded and refolded several times by grubby hands eager to soak up the gossip and find new targets to bully. 

the list makes its rounds and matty ignores it pointedly each time. 

but his heart sinks when he overhears her name, followed by snickers. his breath catches in his throat when the boys pat each other on the back and shake each other’s hands, cementing some kind of a bet or a deal. 

discomfort coils in his stomach and he pulls out his phone under the desk, shooting her a quick text. 

haven’t seen you today

where are you

he waits for her to respond or even just to read it but she does none of those things. matty shakes his leg restlesly, waiting for the lesson to be over so he can go find her and make sure she’s alright. he’s been on edge since he heard her name being whispered and now he can’t shake the bad feeling that grips. 

“oi!” someone behind him whispers, snapping him out of his thoughts. fingers tap on his shoulders and then he hears a rustle of paper. before he realises it, someone’s slides a piece of paper in his hands. 

it’s even more torn than it was the last time matty saw it—matty almost doesn’t open it, but something catches his eye. his stomach roils, the lesson drags on as usual, and with shaky fingers matty unfolds the list. 

his eyes skim it quickly—hottest arse, hottest tits, easiest fuck—all of it raises his disgust more and more, he’s about to crumple it into a ball and dump it in the bin when the last catagory catches his eye. 

most fuckable virgin. and right in front of it, scrawled in the ugliest handwriting he’s ever seen is her name. 

for a moment, everything falls silent. all he can hear is the sound of blood rushing in his ears, all he can focus on is the way his chest tightens and his vision tinges red. 

then he crumples the list in a ball and shoves everything in his bag. he can hear the teacher falter mid-sentence but matty cannot care less right now. instead he slings his bag on his shoulder and storms out the class, ignoring all the shouts and warnings from the teacher. he knows his mum will get a call but that’s the last thing on his mind right now. 

he pulls his phone out again once he’s far away enough. 

bug?

you saw it didn’t you

again, there’s no response. he can’t even go to the third floor bathroom anymore. it’s been long fixed up and put back in use. so matty does the only thing he can think of. he waits until the bell rings, then he pulls george from chemistry, and adam and ross from history. he knows they will have his back no matter what, especially if he’s going to go pick a fight with the entitled, rich fucks. 

i promise i’m going to take care of it

he sends one last text and turns his phone off. then he makes his way to the car park and waits for the bullies to come out. 

the next time matty sees her, she’s absolutely seething with rage. seriously, trembling with rage doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

“you could have been expelled!” she yells, pacing in his room, burning a path in his rug. 

“i know.”

“do you? does george? adam and ross? i cannot believe you got them involved in this matty, seriously?”

“i knowww,” he says again, a bit louder this time but absolutely wilts when she glares his way.

“and you got yourself hurt!”

“mmm.”

“well?” she stops in front of him, hands on her hips, frown on her face and matty has no choice but to look up at her. he hates that her eyes are tinged pink, hates that they look puffy and that there are tear stains on her cheeks. 

he hates knowing that the stupid piece of paper made her cry. 

her eyes well up again and her lower lip wobbles. “your hands are bleeding,” she says softly and then marches to his bathroom to get the first aid kit out. 

matty follows her like a lost puppy, mostly because he just wants to be sure she’s okay. but a tiny part of him worries that he’s crossed a line this time. that maybe he should have talked to her first before jumping harry and his gang of bullies in the car park. 

if he’s being technical—they did win the fight. barely. and now he has a black eye, countless scratches and cuts, bleeding knuckles and a nasty, colourful bruise blooming on his ribs. it hurts every time he breathes but matty doesn’t pay it much mind. 

“sit,” she points at the closed toilet seat and he obeys instantly. 

he watches her put the kit down on the sink, wordlessly she grabs antiseptic, ointment, bandages and wipes and sets them out next to each other. she doesn't say anything for a moment, her focus solely on treating his injuries. matty can feel the thick, cloying tension in the room though and he’s too afraid to even clear his throat. 

“i just wanted to make it right…” he whispers. 

she shoots him a look that could cut glass, but she doesn't interrupt his feeble attempt at explanation.

“seriously, love. i didn’t think… i’m sorry.” her hand stills halfway through cleaning his knuckle and matty’s cheeks warm. love. that’s not something he’s called her before, definitely not when she’s standing right between his legs, holding his hand. 

“‘s fine,” she whispers quickly and gets started on the next cut. “i just…worry about you.”

he pointedly ignores the way his chest feels then, the way his skin tingles. instead, he manages a small smile. 

“so we’re good?”

“you’re an idiot,” she shakes her head and smiles. it’s barely there, just a twitch of her lips but matty feels his whole body light up in response. “yeah, matty. we’re good.”

“good,” he gives her a cheeky grin. “because you’re a bit of a shit nurse. bad bedside manners,” he teases and yelps when she pinches his arm.

matty’s eighteen when his music first feels like a real, serious thing. serious enough to drop out of a levels and take up music as a full time thing. serious enough that he’s been travelling around more and more—hanging around solely with george, ross, and adam. it’s been weeks since he’s properly seen her. 

weeks since they’ve talked on the phone. 

of course, matty knows she’ll be busy studying for exams. she’s so much smarter than he is, has so much potential in her. but he misses her, misses having her around him and scolding him lightly every time he does something impulsive. 

mostly, he just misses hanging out with her. 

you free? he texts, not really expecting a reply but seconds later three dots dance on the screen.

hi matty! 

i will be in a bit. i’m out with mum rn. dress shopping for my birthday 

inwardly, he winces. of course, her birthday’s coming up. not that he’d forgotten about about it but the days have started blurring together recently and he could have sworn it was still about a month until her birthday. not… he checks the date and curses. he certainly didn’t think it would be a week away. 

the dots come back, dancing and dancing and dancing before they disappear. matty tries to think of something to say. 

so when’s the big party? he types and then instantly deletes it. it’s lame, she’s never been one to have a giant birthday party. mostly she just wants to have a nice hangout with her friends and maybe go out to dinner. but she’s turning eighteen in a week and he wonders if this is the year she finally does it—throws a giant rager that is. 

so…

her text comes through a minute later he gets so excited he almost drops his phone. cursing at himself, matty straightens and waits for the second text to come through. 

we’re going out to dinner on saturday. nothing super fancy, just friends. i thought it’d be nice if you could come 

you don’t have to of course

ik how busy you are

it’s fine if you can’t

forget i asked

the last four texts come in rapid fire succession and his frown deepens with each one of them. is that what she thinks of him now? that he won’t even have time for her on such an important day. 

bug, he interrupts her text spree and smiles when the dots die down once again. i’ll be there. i promise

for the longest time, nothing happens—no dots, no texts. then almost like it took a lot of debating to send it, she sends two more texts. 

can’t wait to see you :)

<3

his face splits into a grin as he reads them. and then he stares at the heart for far longer than he cares to admit. 

she squeals when she sees him that saturday, jumping up from her seat and engulfing him in a bear hug the moment he opens his arms. matty laughs and her scent fills his chest. they stay like that for a long time—until her friend’s are looking at them with varying degrees of interest, until he can gather his thoughts. until a server finally clears his throat and points out that they’re quite literally in the middle of the restaurant. 

she blushes and takes his hand, pulling him to their table, and matty settles next to her, mostly just happy to see her beaming and excited. 

“happy birthday, love,” he whispers the first chance he gets and her eyes widen slightly. she mumbles a quick thank you and then spears her pasta, avoiding his eyes. 

throughout dinner, he can't help but steal glances at her. he watches the way her eyes light up when she talks about her plans for the future, about the university courses she's considering. he laughs along with her friends too, and before they know it, they’re scarfing down desserts before her friends hand her birthday gifts one by one. 

matty waits patiently and saves his for last. instead he watches her open them with a look of pure adoration.

at last, he slides the neately wrapped gift in her direction and watches her look at it curiously. 

“go on, then,” he smiles, “open it.”

he laughs when she tries to open it as neately as possible, trying not to rip the paper in the slightest just like she has for all the previous birthdays he’s celebrated with her. 

the paper falls away and eyes widen about as much as the empty dessert plates in front of them. 

“matty!” she gapes, “this is–this–”

“yeah?” he giggles at her reaction and her friends look on in interest. 

“a camera! you got me a camera, holy shit!” 

“i know,” he grins, immensely enjoying how tongue tied she is.  

matty leans back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. “do you like it?”

her eyes shimmer with gratitude, and for a moment matty’s sure she’s gonna cry. then she launches herself at him again, this time wrapping him in a tight hug that lasts longer than before. and matty simply melts into her arms, buries her face into the crook of her neck and smiles at the warmth that spreads through his chest. 

“i love it,” she whispers, “thank you, matty. i mean it. i love it so so much!”

they don’t pull away until one of her friends clears their throat and even then it’s almost impossible for him to let her go. but matty settles back and watches her pull it out. he laughs when she immediately points it at him and the shutter snaps. 

“you’re cute,” she smiles and he wonders if it’s just a trick of the light or if her cheeks really do turn pink then.

matty’s twenty-one the night he offers her a job. well, it’s more of a summer gig and it’s more because he misses her so much that he can’t get anything right. 

she’s busy with uni and he’s busy with music. but tonight’s a rare night, and they’re both a bit more than tipsy at some house party. that’s another surprise for him—the fact that she parties now. but he likes this side of her. she’s definitely gotten out of her shell more. become more confident in general and lately, every time he’s spoken to her, he’s felt this funny feeling in his chest for hours after. 

“as the band’s official photographer?” she slurs and then giggles. “this is a world tour, is it?” 

“shut up,” he flicks her nose and she scrunches it up adorably. “it’s eight cities in the uk. mostly as openers for other bands. come onnnnnn,” he whines and pouts hoping it would persuade her. 

she presses her finger to her chin and makes a show of thinking hard. matty giggles and smoothes the crease between her brow but she swats him away. 

“on one condition,” she giggles behind her hands. “since we will be around each other constantly for three weeks, sharing hotel rooms—” matty wags his eyebrows, “—and just be joined at the hip in general… you need to promise me something.”

“alright,” he leans forward, chin on his palm, looking at her with interest. the alcohol makes his head spin, her smile wipes it clean of any thoughts. 

“promise me we won’t fall in love like a cheesy rom-com,” she presses her lips together and matty wrinkles his nose. 

“if i was going to fall in love with you bug, it would have happened already.”

“uh-huh,” she arches an eyebrow and matty shakes his head. 

“fine. no cliche rom-com stuff. no falling in love. now say yes… please?”

“fineee,” she makes a show of rolling her eyes but smiles at him fondly. “yes. i’ll be your photographer.”

the first night they share a hotel room, matty feels a pangs in his chest and his brain reminds him of the promise over and over again—no silly little rom-com cliche. they’re better than that. he knows it. but the next morning she wakes up in his arms, limbs tangled together, her hair tickling his face and he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat. she smiles at him sweetly, all sleepy and warm and so precious she might as well be made of glass, and matty’s chest aches like it has never before. 

blink and two weeks melts away. he realises he’s been rather looking forward to coming “home” to her—to their shared hotel room that is. to warmth and music floating through her old laptop and her laughter. his whole body buzzes with an unfamiliar feeling whenever he looks at her—and lately that’s all he seems to be doing whenever she’s editing the day’s photos on her laptop, tongue poking out in concentration, eyebrows furrowed. 

“c’mere”, he pleads when she briefly sets the laptop aside. she looks at him curiously, at the way he just sits on the bed, waiting for her but in the end she gets up and walks up to him to stand between his legs—something she’s done a million times before. yet this time his hands tremble by his sides and he has to resist the urge to place them on her waist.

“you’re pretty,” he says as a matter of fact. it is a fact after all and it earns him a gorgeous grin.

“yeah?” 

“mm,” he hums and closes his eyes. to matty’s surprise, he feels fingers in his hair, combing through his curls, tugging gently at the ends. “and lately it’s been getting really difficult to not kiss you every time i look at you.”

it’s so bold that her fingers stop moving altogether and for a moment matty think’s he’s fucked up irrevocably, that there’s no going back now. but she’s so close, so enticing. and the next thing he knows, she lowering herself onto his lap, her face inches away from his. 

she smiles at him, and softly caresses his cheek. once or twice her eyes even dip to his lips but he doesn’t dare breathe, or move really. he’s far too scared that even a little movement will shatter the magic holding them together. 

“why haven’t you kissed me then?” she asks and that’s what breaks his restraint.  

her lips are soft on his, so fucking perfect. electricity zings through him at the contact. she kisses him with such reckless abandon that it steals his breath away, makes his heart hammer against his ribcage. and then her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and if matty were to die of shock right now, he couldn’t think of a better way to go. 

i love you he thinks to himself—something that just occurs to him then, hits him like a fucking train but he doesn’t pull back. if anything he kisses her harder and smiles when she gasps into his mouth. 

i love you he thinks again, over and over and over until the thought spreads throughout his whole body. until he can’t help but giggle a little. 

he’s utterly failed his promise, completely decimated it. but out of all the promises he’s kept, this is the one he doesn’t mind breaking. 

lemme know what you think <33

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#valentine75 #valentine's week #matty healy #matty healy x reader #minors dni #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fluff

[thekillingmoonmoon]

guys my age

Pairing: Kishibe x Fem! Reader Warnings: NSFW, age gap (Kishibe is however old he is – 50? Reader is late twenties), smoking, alcohol,  reader goes through a breakup but it’s not a bad one Length: 4k Song: Guys My Age – Hey Violet

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you read your phone’s screen again and cussed, throwing yourself down on the hotel bed with a thump. “Trouble in paradise?” Kishibe looked over from the windowsill, the smoke swirling around his head in a sunlit halo. “More like, good riddance to bad rubbish,” you groaned, dropping your phone to the mattress beside you. “At least one of my problems has the good grace to sort itself out,” you grumbled, leaning back and pinching the bridge of your nose. “Which one of your problems was it? Rent? The boyfriend? Makima?” you peered at Kishibe from where you lay, squinting at him in confusion. Since when did he care?

“If it was Makima, I think we’d be in a very different position right now,” You answered, gesturing to the rundown hotel you were currently staying in. Kishibe scoffed out a chuckle and took a sip from his flask, offering it to you when you eyed the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he drank. You took the flask with thanks and threw it back, relishing the honeyed burn of the whiskey as it spilt down your supple throat. You missed how Kishibe watched you drink, how his dark eyes narrowed when a drop of liquor slipped past your lips and down your chin, trickling in its cinnamon sweetness down your silken neck. You cleared your throat.

 “It’s the boyfriend,” you chuckled drily, “The trash took itself out this time.” Kishibe raised a brow. “Tsunada broke up with you?” once more, you squinted at Kishibe, wondering when he had ever bothered learning the name of the third division hunter you were dating for the last six months. Emphasis on “were”, as the man in question had just broken up with you for being ‘too serious’. “Yep,” You flopped back on the bed, a blood spatter of red and white on the navy sheets.

“You should wash,” Kishibe instructed, and you groaned, wanting to throw yourself on the bed and sleep for the next ten years. But Kishibe had drinking plans, and as his partner, it was expected that you join him. You rolled yourself upward and grabbed your bag from the end of the bed, leaving Kishibe to seat himself on the twin bed on the other side of the room. You threw his towel at him as you closed the bathroom door, muttering about ‘old men getting sick’ and you not wanting to play nursemaid if he got ill from leaving his hair wet. You barely heard his reply but knew it had something to do with what you’d look like in a nurse’s uniform. You flushed at the thought, and slapping your cheeks at your embarrassment, stepped into the shower. The room still smelled of him, of heady musk and light pine, of cinnamon cigarettes and expensive aftershave, and as you breathed him in, you realised how truly fucked you were.

You were in love with Kishibe. Undoubtedly, irrevocably in love.  After three years as his rookie partner, you’d fallen into a neat rhythm with the older man, quickly becoming the most efficient pair of hunters in Public Safety. The rumours swirled in your wake, the young pup to charm the old war dog, the only partner to last through Kishibe’s rough training and still come out of it semi-sane on the other side. Not that you’d claim to be sane. Not after all the things you had seen. Not after falling for a man nearly twice your age and as emotionally unavailable as a stray black cat. Tsunada had been a distraction, as had the three guys before him. All young and bright-eyed boys whose reckless charm and careless caresses had only barely filled the aching gap in your heart, so empty of cynicism and bitter whiskey.  You undid your hair, grimacing at the flicker of dried blood that fell from your tresses. You plunged in to wash your hair, scrubbing your skull so hard, hoping that you could scrub yourself clean of Kishibe.

Today had been another successful hunt, way out in the boondocks of some country town, where a Corruption Devil had settled in. It had taken you more than half a day to get to the town, but less than two hours to get rid of the devil, and now you were stuck halfway home, forced to stay the night in a hotel. It wasn’t the first time you had been forced to share a hotel room with Kishibe, but it was the first time neither had been so mortally wounded to require around-the-clock nursing. You wondered if the same easy silence that filled your sunlit hours would pervade the darkness as well. You hoped it would, and the warm uneasiness that had been building up in your lower stomach over the last year or so would disappear into the night, along with the sounds of Kishibe’s chainsaw snoring.

You shook your hair out, happy only once the water ran clean and stepped out of the shower. You needed a distraction. From your ex-boyfriend. From Kishibe. For whatever feelings you had for Kishibe.  You rinsed yourself off and rummaged in your bag, pulling out a fresh white shirt. You thought to the night of drinking ahead and wondered if Kishibe would let you get some company for yourself this evening. You needed it. Needed the rush of playing cat-and-mouse, of fumbling hands in the dark, of losing yourself in someone else’s body for the first time in months. You left a few buttons undone, showing off a tasteful sliver of cleavage as you huffed and puffed back into your trousers. You did your hair and face, sure to put on a lipstick that screamed ‘fuck me,’ and stepped out of the bathroom.

Kishibe choked on his flask, hacking up what sounded like half a lung when he saw you exit the bathroom.

 “What?” was all you said, raising your eyebrow as the man, “did you forget I was a woman?” Kishibe could only cough in response. You grabbed your jacket,

“Let’s go.”

…

You weren’t drunk enough for this. Not for this drivelling conversation and certainly not for the slimy pickup lines slithering from the hunter across the table. Kishibe was lost in a conversation, nodding and hemming along to whatever was being said by the senior hunters. You needed a smoke. You scrambled to your feet, meeting Kishibe’s eyes as he looked across at your movement. You motioned that you were going for a smoke and he nodded in understanding.

You broke free into the darkness, breathing in the heady scent of wet asphalt and city lights. You rounded a corner into an alley and fiddled around in your jacket pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a light. You flickered the flame to life, thinking of all the times you had lit Kishibe’s smokes, leaning in between gaps in the rain, sharing breaths in the muggy air. Smoke trickled from your mouth in a dark dragon of grey and blue, the clouds catching the reflection of the neon sign of the bar above your head.

 “Hey baby,” came a dark coo, and you tilted your head to peer into the dark.  “Kishibe?” you asked, despite knowing it wasn’t him. You would know his voice anywhere, that deep soft rasp that stirred your lower stomach into a fluttering of iron butterflies. “Aw, darling, you wound me. As if I would ever come close to that gross old bastard.” It was the hunter from before, the one whose pickup lines were worse than any of the drivel Tsunada had fed you. “I’m not interested,” you gave a polite smile and prepared to go back inside. “Really, because you were giving me bedroom eyes back there,” he approached you, coming closer and closer, tainting the air with the bitter tang of beer and old cigarettes  “You made an incorrect assumption then,” you corrected him, straightening out and preparing to throw your cigarette out onto the damp concrete. A pity, you wanted to savour it. He crowded up to you, using his height against you, casting a shadow over your shorter form. You looked up at him, tilting your head and squinting. “Aw, don’t be so frigid, baby,” he leaned his hand above your head, effectively pinning you between the wall and his body. You sighed. You really didn’t want to start a fight, especially not with another hunter. “She isn’t being frigid, boy, she’s being polite,” oh, that smoke-saturated voice soothed you, getting you to drop your guard as you saw Kishibe flicker into view. “Get lost, punk,” he said, motioning for the guy to walk, and the idiot listened, suddenly aware that he was between the two toughest devil hunters in the agency.  Kishibe came to stand beside you, cigarette already clenched between his teeth. You lit up for him, relishing the way he leaned in close, the scent of his aftershave rolling down your spine. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to you.

“Did I ever tell you that you have shit taste in men?” he asked, and you snorted. “No, but I believe you,” you answered, shaking your head. “Why do you go for punks like him?” “I don’t know,” you huffed, “their boyish charm,” you lied. Kishibe tsked. "Clearly you need a real man,” he said, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. What was he playing at? You shrugged.  “Unfortunately, those are hard to come by, unless you know any takers?” you jibed, a little gutsy, now that you weren’t looking Kishibe in the dark, depthless eyes. “I could name a few,” he grunted, and this time you properly turned and looked at him. He took a step toward you, moving closer than ever before, a mere breath away. He looked down at you, all rippling muscles and rugged scars. “And would your name be on that list?” You closed your eyes as you asked, hating to see the reaction in his eyes. You could feel him, almost sense his body around you, surrounding you. “Well, you’d never have to go out dressed like this again,” a single calloused finger traced the low fit of your shirt, almost brushing your breasts. “Or mess around with those boys again,” he rumbled, his finger trailing up your throat, where he gripped your chin.

“Tell me, princess,” he rumbled, “did that bastard even make you cum?” You were sure he could feel the blush radiating off your cheeks, but you bit your lower lip and shook your head. The noise that left Kishibe’s throat was dark and deep as it vibrated through you, sending shivers down your spine as he leaned down. He was just a whiskey’s breath away, all cinnamon and sinful musk, his dark eyes watching your face as he drew closer.

 “Tell me to stop,” he said, and you threw all caution to the wind. You grabbed his tie and pulled him down, crashing your lips to his, tasting the bitter tang of beer on his lips. For a moment, Kishibe paused, his eyes wide open, before he was kissing you, driving you back into the wall, stealing every gasp of air from your desperate lips.

 “Fuck,” he cursed as he pinned you to the cold bricks behind you, pressing his tongue past your teeth and flooding you with the taste of him. His hands seemed reluctant to touch you, so you grabbed them from the wall behind you and settled his hands on your waist and hips. His thick hands were eager, filling you with warmth as he gripped and groped at your flesh. His hips found yours, pressing you even deeper into the wall, his thigh coming in between your legs to push at the apex of your legs. You whine, feeling him rub his thigh over your needy cunt and his hips stutter against yours.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he gripped your hips, rocking them over his thigh, fucking you on his leg. You moan his name, and he groans, stopping and grabbing your hands as they explore his toned chest.

For a moment you think he wants to stop, that he’s rejecting you, and you feel like you could curl up and disappear, but he reads the bright fear in your eyes and leans in, pressing a single chaste kiss to your swollen lips.

 “Relax doll, I’m only taking you somewhere else,” he rumbled, “somewhere no one can interrupt us.”

You blindly followed him through the dark, stumbling behind him as he makes the short trip back to your dingy hotel room. He held your hand the whole time, large and warm and engulfing yours in its calloused grip. Once in the elevator, he turned to you, dark eyes suddenly serious, despite the hunter’s light that shone deep in their murky depths.

 “This is your last chance, sweetheart,” He stepped closer, crowding you into the corner of the lift, his trench coat shielding you from view, “Tell this dirty old man to stop.”

“Why would I?” you answered, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket, reaching up on your tiptoes to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, where his scar severed his face. He groaned at your featherlight touch, his hand coming up behind your head to meld your lips to his, holding you tight to his body, so that you could feel his muscles ripple against your tender touch. He only tore away when the elevator dinged your sudden arrival and then he was gone again, practically dragging you through the door and pressing you up against the cool wood, his mouth meeting yours once again. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, gripping your upper arms tight as he laid a trail of sloppy kisses down your jaw. He sucked your skin into his mouth, nipping and suckling at the skin until he was sure he had left his mark on you. You shucked his jacket off as well, throwing the heavy canvas aside and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He was quick to do the same, exposing your tits to his hungry mouth as he cupped you beneath your bra.

 “Fuck, look at these tits,” he cooed, squeezing and groping at the soft flesh, “So fucking beautiful, better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, biting and teasing your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He scraped his teeth up your chest, slithering his hands down the slope of your stomach until he reached the waistband of your pants. He made quick work of the belt and zipper, sending your pants to your knees as he teased your clit through the fabric. Your hips bucked, unused to any decent touch and you blushed, flushed hot by the sudden attention after being neglected for so long. Kishibe kissed you harshly again, biting your lower lip back with a pop before skimming down your body. He nipped at your stomach, lathing his love over your belly, pulling down your panties. He watched a thin string of your arousal cling to the fabric and he hummed, helping you step out of your clothes. He knelt before you, reverent in his worship, fumbling prayer from his scarred lips as he licked and sucked at the skin around your cunt. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and sunk his tongue into your cunt, his huge hands engulfing your hips to stop you from bucking onto his face. He licked a slow stripe up your pussy, finding your clit and swirling his tongue around it until you could feel your cunt clench around nothing.

“You’re gonna cum on my face, princess,” Kishibe told you, murmuring into your slick silken skin, “and then you’re gonna cum on my cock, yeah?”, he lapped at you before you could respond, pulling a low keen from your pouty lips before your voice broke into shattered pants. His tongue worked wonders, pressing the hot wet muscle up and into your pussy, effectively fucking you with his tongue. His one hand left your hips, trailing down your thigh and coming up below his chin. The first finger felt like heaven, pushing past your soft velvet walls into your pulsing pussy, reaching, searching until he found the spot that had you shuddering, hips shaking in his grip. He slowly pumped his finger inside you, pushing and pressing as you whined and moaned above him, his mouth never leaving your clit as he traced the kanji of his name over the bundle of nerves. The second finger had your knees buckling, his fingers thicker and heavier than your own, stretching your cunt out to take his cock. He kept sucking at your clit, sending shivers down your spine as he worked you toward climax. His third finger was a surprise, welcomed with a hushed gasp and whimper from your swollen lips as he pushed his knuckles past your puffy folds.

“That’s it, doll,” he encouraged, “take them all.” You could feel pressure pulsing in your lower stomach, sending strawberry starbursts up your spine. You felt dizzy, drowning in the sound of Kishibe lapping and slurping at your cunt. You could feel your climax build, and by the clench of your cunt, Kishibe knew you were close too. He renewed his pumping into your cunt and sucked hard on your clit, tossing you over the edge into a starstruck spiral of static pleasure. He groaned as you came, sucking and lapping up all that seeped from your pretty pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbled, rising from a crouch and kissing you hard. He gripped your hips to his, holding you up against the wall as your knees shook. You tasted yourself on his tongue, moaning at the saccharine tartness as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He stepped back with you stumbling after, holding you upright and pushing you softly down onto the nearest mattress. You bounced on the springy softness, looking up at Kishibe with wide doe-eyes, already fucked out on the orgasm wrought by his tongue and fingers. You stared at him through dreamy eyes, sitting up and reaching for his belt buckle.

 “Easy there, sweetheart,” Kishibe’s hands cover yours, “are you sure you want this?” he asked. You blinked up at him and grabbed his tie, tugging him further down to reach your eye level.

 “I want you, Kishibe,” you soothed, “show me how a real man fucks.” He swore then, unhooking his belt and dropping his pants quickly as he crawled over you on the bed.  You reached down to palm him through his boxers, revelling in the hissed breath that caught low in his throat as you gripped his thick length. He was big, thick and heavy in your hand as you slipped your fingers below his waistband. You smoothed your fingers over his velvet head, smearing pre down his shaft as you pumped him in your hands. He groaned, a restrained grunt spilling past clenched teeth as he moved your hands away and shifted his boxers down and away. You were now bare to each other, your glistening pussy to his twitching length, chest to chest, skin to skin. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time softly as he ran his cock through your soaked folds. You moaned as his cockhead hit your clit, feeling waves of static ripple down your spine. He pressed his cockhead at your entrance.

“You ready, princess?” he gravelled, and you nodded eagerly, your soft silken folds leaving trails of slick on his pulsing skin.

 “Yes,” You panted, “please, Kishibe,” you huffed, the breath pushed from your lungs as he began to ease his cock into your cunt. You groaned at the tight strawberry stretch, sending sparks through your limbs. He filled you slowly, surely, stretching you out until you felt split by his heavy cock.

 “Fuck, doll,” Kishibe paused, slinging your leg up onto his shoulder, “you’re so fucking tight, hah?” He pressed you into the mattress, leaning down and folding you in two as his cock sunk in to the hilt. You gasped, feeling him in the pit of your stomach, twitching in impatience. He paused for a brief moment, as the pair of you caught your breath, you reaching up to him to pull his head down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue and spit as he sucked on your lower lip. He moved languidly, rolling his hips back and out of your plush cunt, and back in with a muted hiss. He set a slow pace, making you feel every inch of him as he ebbed and flowed over your trembling body. His cock reached the deepest part of you, brushing up and over the points that had your eyes rolling back and jaw clenching. You muffled your whines with your hand, reaching up to bite your fist as Kishibe’s hips made contact with yours. He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

 “Let me hear those noises, pretty girl, else I won’t be so gentle,” Kishibe warned, nipping the supple skin of your throat.

 “I never asked you to be gentle,” you pouted and prompted a low groan to trickle from Kishibe’s throat.

 “Why?” he snarled, “You want it rough, doll?” he asked, slamming his hips into you with a sudden rush. You scrambled, fingers white-knuckled as your fisted the sheets above your head, your back arching deep as he pressed the pressure point in your cunt.

 “Yes!” you exclaimed, pressing your tits up into his chest. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave a mark there come tomorrow, and pulled you onto his cock, stopping slightly before setting off at a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin surrounded you, wet and sticky and soaked with sweat as Kishibe pounded mercilessly into your pussy, a string of grunts and growls spilling from his lips to your chest. You mewled, releasing your wrists to sink your fingers deep into the muscles of his back, feeling the muscles shift and ripple beneath your clawing nails. You were sure you drew blood, but couldn’t tell as pressure bloomed deep inside your core, burning through your limbs with the fury of a forest fire. Kishibe could feel you clench around him, so soft and strong as his cock pumped into your plush pussy. He stopped, grabbing you by the back of your knees and pushing your legs to your chest. He pistoned into your cunt with speed, his one hand coming down to rub quick circles around your clit. You quickly drew close to climax, feeling each press of his cock deep in your cunt and every swipe of his thumb sending you closer and closer.

“I’m gonna – “ You panted, “I’m gonna cum!” you breathed, keening as the first shudders of your body shook you to your core.

 “Then cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he groaned in your ear, increasing pressure on your clit until you were shaking in the cage of his arms, limbs twitching and trembling as he fucked you through your high. His name was the only word to fall from your lips, slurred out slowly as he spilt himself deep into your cunt.

 “Fuck,” he grunted, holding himself over you as his hips stilled against yours. You whined when he pulled out, already missing the warmth of his hale body as he withdrew from you. He stepped into the bathroom briefly, exiting only when he saw you shakily try to get off the bed. He tipped you back onto the mattress, a warm washcloth in hand.

 “Don’t run away so fast,” he scolded, gently, rubbing at your battered thighs and leaking cunt.

 “I’m not running,” you said and he looked at you. He crouched before you and reached up to cup your jaw.

“You can run, I won’t stop you. But know that I’ll be coming for you,” he kissed your cheek, “You’re mine now, princess.”

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I do not own Chainsaw Man, or any of the related characters. Chainsaw Man is created and owned by Tatsuki Fujimoto. This story is intended for entertainment purposes only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of Chainsaw Man belong to Tatsuki Fugimoto. Please do not copy, re-use, or distribute this work as your own

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#kishibe x reader #csm kishibe #csm #kishibe smut #csm smut #csm x reader #chansaw man #chainsaw man x reader #killingmoonmoon csm

[asongoficeandfiresource]

The songs said that Storm's End had been raised in ancient days by Durran, the first Storm King, who had won the love of the fair Elenei, daughter of the sea god and the goddess of the wind. On the night of their wedding, Elenei had yielded her maidenhood to a mortal's love and thus doomed herself to a mortal's death, and her grieving parents had unleashed their wrath and sent the winds and waters to batter down Durran's hold. His friends and brothers and wedding guests were crushed beneath collapsing walls or blown out to sea, but Elenei sheltered Durran within her arms so he took no harm, and when the dawn came at last he declared war upon the gods and vowed to rebuild. Five more castles he built, each larger and stronger than the last, only to see them smashed asunder when the gale winds came howling up Shipbreaker Bay, driving great walls of water before them. His lords pleaded with him to build inland; his priests told him he must placate the gods by giving Elenei back to the sea; even his smallfolk begged him to relent. Durran would have none of it. A seventh castle he raised, most massive of all. Some said the children of the forest helped him build it, shaping the stones with magic; others claimed that a small boy told him what he must do, a boy who would grow to be Bran the Builder. No matter how the tale was told, the end was the same. Though the angry gods threw storm after storm against it, the seventh castle stood defiant, and Durran Godsgrief and fair Elenei dwelt there together until the end of their days. Gods do not forget, and still the gales came raging up the narrow sea. Yet Storm's End endured, through centuries and tens of centuries, a castle like no other. Its great curtain wall was a hundred feet high, unbroken by arrow slit or postern, everywhere rounded, curving, smooth, its stones fit so cunningly together that nowhere was crevice nor angle nor gap by which the wind might enter. That wall was said to be forty feet thick at its narrowest, and near eighty on the seaward face, a double course of stones with an inner core of sand and rubble. Within that mighty bulwark, the kitchens and stables and yards sheltered safe from wind and wave. Of towers, there was but one, a colossal drum tower, windowless where it faced the sea, so large that it was granary and barracks and feast hall and lord's dwelling all in one, crowned by massive battlements that made it look from afar like a spiked fist atop an upthrust arm. -- Catelyn III, A Clash of Kings

#house baratheon #asoiaf #asoiafedit #litedit #hotdedit #tvedit #cinematv #dailyflicks #tvgifs

[unknownarmageddon]

What do u think would be Killer's top 10 fav songs.....(malicious intent/j)

INCREDIBLE QUESTION hi. my entire utmv career has led me to this moment

gonna preface this by saying this is based on a crazy amount on vibes and bias and also my incredibly headcanoned image of him don’t sue me please wailing

also it’s only very vaguely in order sorry i am the absolute worst at tier lists so it’s just. a list of songs i think he’d like. also this is definitely more than ten i couldn’t narrow it down that much weeping

Choke - IDKHOW

Bleed Magic - IDKHOW

Pictures of Girls - Wallows

I Don’t Care - Fall Out Boy

Hold Me Like A Grudge - Fall Out Boy

Governator - Green Day

Brain Stew - Green Day

Dilemma - Green Day

Lalala - Noahfinnce

Scumbag - Noahfinnce

Pity - Noahfinnce

Better Days - Noahfinnce

Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time - PATD

Garbage Day - Rare Americans

Regret - St. Vincent

Bang Bang - Green Day

Pretty Waste - Bones UK

Yes I’m a Mess - AJR

Novocaine - Fall Out Boy

Kicks - Barns Courtney

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea - Fall Out Boy

#answering asks #anon asks #i would’ve provided links but that would’ve been a Lot i apologize #i keep giving disclaimers i am so nervous for some reason. anyway #this is also only based on my own music taste and or what i’ve heard too so. #there might be some artists someone thinks fits too and that’s rad i just probably don’t listen to them so. yeah #(you should ask me this with cross too. btw. i’m insane about that too /silly/silly /nf)

[book-place]

Two Months

Warnings: none (I think), let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Peter Parker x reader platonic, Tony Stark x daughter reader

Request: Hey! How about for a platonic Tom!Peter. That you are Tony's daughter and are like 2 months older than him and tease him about it. And also sometimes try to set him up with someone he is interested in? Have a nice day!

Request by: @creative-girl

*not my gif*

Summary: As Peters best friend, you feel that it’s your job to help him. Especially when it comes to something like this

A/N: HEREEEE IT ISSSS

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Ha!” You cheered, throwing your hands up in victory and dropping the controller onto the cushion beside you.

Peter let out a small groan beside you, causing a frown to pull at your lips. Normally he would put up more of a fuss at losing to you at his favorite video game. Not to mention he hardly seemed focused while it was actually going on, when he usually would have laser focus, making sure nothing distracted him from beating you.

You bumped your knee against his, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows had already furrowed in the way they always did when you were growing concerned.

A smile forced its way onto his face, making him look slightly uncomfortable with such a big grin for the wrong situation, “Nothings wrong! Just a bit sore that you beat me.” He tried to keep his tone joking, but you saw right through it all.

You rolled your eyes at his poor attempt to get out of confrontation, “You can’t lie to me, Pete. I’m basically your big sister.”

He poured slightly, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking back into the couch, “You're really not that much older than me.”

A chuckle slipped past your lips, and you couldn’t help but reach out and ruffle the boy's hair, “Oh, Peter, Peter, Peter.” You clicked your tongue, “How many times do we have to go over the fact that I’m older than you?”

“Only by two months!” He whined out the protest.

You grinned, reaching out and booping him on the nose, “A whole two months!” You cheered in a sing-song voice.

He rolled his eyes slightly and mumbled, “Whatever.”

Reaching out again, you flicked the side of his head, causing him to cry out and cradle the wounded spot.

“Now come on,” You commanded, “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

With a sigh of defeat, he opened his mouth to speak once more, but was inturpted by another voice.

“Hey!” Your father, Tony Stark, called from the doorway, eyes narrowed, “I thought you two said you were doing your homework.”

“Oh-umm-“ Peter immediately began stumbling over his words, “Well you see Mr. Stark-“ He looked absolutely petrified.

Then, Tony cracked a grin.

“I’m just messin’ with ya, kid.” He leaned against the doorway, “As long as Pepper doesn’t catch you, you’re safe.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Dad, you have to stop scaring the poor kid.”

Peter let out a sound of protest, but both of you ignored him.

“But it’s just so much fun! Not to mention, too easy.”

You both chuckled as Peter began mumbling under his breath and glaring at the floor with cheeks tinted pink.

“Make sure you’re both down for dinner in ten.” He said, exiting the room back the way he came.

“Even Mr. Stark is calling me a kid.” The brown haired boy complained.

You just grinned, “Now tell me what you were going to say before.”

“Oh,” Peter breathed, the color on his face turning even darker, “There’s… someone.” He mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with you.

Upon hearing this, your grin only widened, “Is that so? And who might that be? Someone I happen to know?”

“You know what?” His voice raised slightly, “I never should have said anything.”

You forced your smile to fade a bit, “Fine, fine. I’m sorry. Now, can you at least tell me what their pronouns are-“

“It’s MJ!” He suddenly blurted out in a split second confident boost.

The smile softened along with the rest of your features, “She’s lovely.” Your tone was gentle and filled with complete honesty, “When do you plan on asking her out?”

“That’s the problem,” He pivoted his body so he was facing you with his legs crossed up on the couch like a child, “I don’t know how to ask her.”

You nodded thoughtfully, already deep in your own mind, plotting a way to help your best friend.

“I’ve got it!” You announced after a moment of silence.

“What is it?” He asked anxiously.

You just shook your head, “I want you to leave that up to me.”

-•-

It was a week since Peter had confided in you, and every waking moment for you had been spent putting your plan into action.

First, you had done a lot of detective work since you couldn’t come out and just ask MJ if she returned Peter’s feelings, even though she was one of your close friends.

So instead, you would ask indirect questions about him to avoid suspicion, then gouge and analyze her reactions.

And once you were finally sure that she had a crush on him as well, you gave a very nervous Peter the first ahead to ask her out.

Peter had never been so relieved in his life when she had agreed. The large hug he gave you afterwards told you that much.

You smiled as you watched Peter nervously adjust his shirt in the mirror, and walked over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll do great. You guys are going to have an amazing time.”

He looked up at you and smiled, “Thank you. For all of this, I mean it.”

A spark of mischief lit up your eyes as you reached up and pinched the skin near his jaw like a grandmother would do, “Anything for my younger- by two months- brother.”

This time, he laughed along with you when you said that.

We Are Groot 🤎- @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato @femalemarvelself @mukbee @its-hell @ip747

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #teen reader #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #tony stark #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #peter parker x reader platonic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x sister!reader #peter parker #spiderman x sister reader #spiderman x reader platonic #spiderman x reader #spiderman #peter x mj

[romanoffsbish]

Sing To Me…

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Absolutely none, pure fluff ❤️

“If I Ain’t Got You”—Alicia Keys

“Lullaby”—The Chicks

Request ❤️✅

Scarlett was waiting impatiently for you to make it home from work, the job you did might be making the world a better place, but it sure makes hers days off from filming boring...

"Honey, I'm home!!!!" Scarlett beams at your sweet voice., "I'm in the living room lovey!!!"

Once she heard your shoes gently clunk against the mat, and your bag hit the ground her body was buzzing, it was only seconds until you'd round the corner, and boy were you a sight for sore eyes; wearing that beyond adorable, tired smile, and carrying bags full of your favorite takeout like the actual godsend that you were.

———(readmore glitch protector)———

"Which one?!" She squeals with two DVDS blurring before your eyesight, you chuckle as you leaned in for a kiss instead, and she of course needed no sort of coaxing to accept your disregard for the entertainment in favor of her favorite affection, well, besides your cuddles., "Lizzie McGuire." You'd mumbled against her lips before moving to part from the kiss.

Scarlett had other plans though, haphazardly tossing the plastic cases onto the table she made quick work of wrapping her arms around your neck, using her hold to pull you down and directly atop of her, legs snaking around you to further secure you against her and the couch., "Sweetest girl, how ever will we enjoy the Disney classic if you don't let me change.," she smiled up at you while you oh so delicately moved her now crazed hair out of her face.

"You're perfect just the way you are...," she then teased with a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose, and you chortled, face falling into her neck where your lips instinctually began to lay the softest of kisses to her silky smooth skin., "So cheesy... Cheesy and absolutely wrong.," you mused, leaving a final kiss to her cheek before using all your strength to breakout of her unnaturally strong hold upon your body.

"I'll be but a short ten minutes my sweets, pull the movie up, set out the food, and it'll be as if I'd never left.," you softly teased the pouting woman of your dreams, then you rushed out of the room before she could stall you any further.

—

As the movie was coming to an end Scarlett was mindlessly running a hand through your hair that was sprawled out over her abdomen, nimble fingers moved with precision to get the days worth of knots out, and you hummed in appreciation when they eventually moved to massage your scalp., "That was a good blast from the past." you suddenly said over a yawn, her hands stilled, so you rolled over, your chin now gently resting on her soft belly.

Scarlett softly smiles at you, her hands cup your face to pull you up, and in a lazy crawl you make your way up to lay your lips to hers for a sweet kiss, the way her lips suddenly upturn against yours tells you she's up to something. Pulling back you look into her eyes, seeing the playfulness lying in them., "Sing to me Paolo." You laugh rather loudly, crawling off of her with a roll of your eyes, but in your delirious state you move around to do just as she asked.

Scarlett watches you with a curious expression, your eyes were narrowed, and your nose was scrunched up telling her that you were truly focused as you sorted through your vast array of vinyls. The seriousness caught her off guard, because you usually just sang silly songs, with no more than a few words muttered before one or both of you were curled over in fits of laughter, so your current state has her well beyond intrigued.

Once you seemed set on your choice she giggled when you hid it from her view. "You ready then Isabella?," she rolled her eyes at your outstretched hand, but nonetheless she accepted the gesture. Then she was beaming when she realized the song you'd selected, her heart absolutely melted once the tune of your wedding song filled the room, then you flashed her those pearly whites and she melted into your embrace as you began to sway her.

"Some people live for the fortune.," Scarlett's eyes widened when your voice was silky smooth, and completely leveled, as if you had been a professional in like a past life., "Some people live just for the fame.," She sighs against your chest, the simple words still resonating with her to this day, the thing she cherished most about you was the way you truly humbled her. Lavish was an afterthought for the millionaire after you taught her how to find a way to truly live in the moment.

"Some people need three dozen roses, and that's the only way to prove you love them..." Scarlett nearly fell to her knees when your voice changed octaves, a much deeper tone, full of unwavering conviction, and she was in the midst of feeling so many things. Then when your hand guided her face away from your chest to instead look deeply into your bright eyes she audibly gulped, the once perceivably silly moment now being a show to how deep your love continues to flow for her., "Hand me the world on a silver platter, and what good would it be with no one to share, with no one who truly cares for me."

"Some people want diamond rings.," Scarlett blushes when you kiss her wedding band in between verses, the amazement that five years into your marriage she's still able to learn new incredible things about you written on her face as you continued to belt out the song you dedicated to her at said wedding., "Some just want everything, but everything means nothing if I ain't got you, yeah, if I ain't got you with me, baby, oh, ooh. Said nothing in this whole wide world don't mean a thing, if I ain't got you with me, baby..."

A perfect silence befalls the room as you continued to sway your conjoined bodies; Scarlett's arms around your waist, and face in your chest as she processes this new reality., "Baby...," you hum, your head laying on her head with your eyes closed as you embrace the softness of the moment., "How didn't I know?," she audibly squeaks, causing you to chuckle., "Oh sorry, did I not tell you about my glory days? I could've been famous too, was offered a record deal after I got out of college, but it just wasn't the course I was meant to be on."

"But honey... That voice, why keep it a secret?," you shrugged, her groan of disapproval at the gesture a cause for giggling., "The world is full of superstars with good voices my love, I found my passions elsewhere... I mean, you can sing too, but you're not out here on tours are you?"

"Well no, but you're just so good!," her whining a clear indicator to you that she's in need of sleep. You just look down with a pout of your own to match hers, eyes pleading with you to even just consider it., "Fine, but if I did this, remember you'd have to share me with the world Scar. No more private life with the wife, and oh, can you just imagine the groupies?"

Her grip intensified as your words really hit., "No, I changed my mind, I'm gatekeeping you, nobody else gets to even want you...," Scarlett growls, that unnecessary possessive side of her always winning in the end, and you chuckled., "Fair enough my love, now let's go to bed.," You pulled back from the embrace to peck her beautiful lips., "Carry me?," she pouts, and you scoop her up bridal style, her head falling to your chest as a big yawn falls from her lips., "Now you have to sing me lullabies every night, I no longer can sleep without your voice.," she tiredly murmurs a falsehood as her eyes come to a permanent shut in your arms.

You settled her down on her side of the bed with a kiss to her forehead, with whispered promises of nightly lullabies anyways, and it seems she heard you as she smiles in her sleep., "Nighty night princess...," she instinctually rolls over and nuzzles into your body., "Sing!," You chuckled when you realized you weren't getting off that easily, and so you began to hum a sweet melody.

"They didn't have you where I come from, never knew the best was yet to come. Life began when I saw your face, and I hear your laugh like a serenade.," Your hand—light as a feather, runs up and down her back in a soothing manner.

"How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough, is forever enough?," she hums a yes., "How long do you want to be loved? Is forever enough? Cause I'm never, never giving you up."

———

1,496 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🥺

#scarlett johansson imagines #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson fluff #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett x y/n #scarlett x you #scarlett x fem!reader #scarlett x reader

[klausinamarink]

Prompt: “rain” (discord drabble from STWG)

—

Forecast said that today was going to be bright and sunny with some clouds later in the evening. The weatherman even said it was recommended to “go outside and spend a few hours with your loved ones.” They said. Nothing else can go wrong, they said.

Well…

“It could be worse.” Steve mutters as he stares at the windshield. The rainstorm isn’t bad enough to ruin the outdoor visibility, but it’s throwing several hundred drops per second on the slightly foggy glass.

“Worse how?” Eddie stares out through the passenger window, where he’s watching the muddy puddles on the roadside slowly grow bigger.

“It could’ve been a tornado.”

Eddie pinches his bicep, earning a chirpy eep! from Steve. “Well, thanks. Now that’s gonna worry me for the rest of the day.”

They’re parked next to a field farmland with a patch of woods visible further down. Steve had been driving Eddie to some spot he declared was perfect for a picnic visit, but then the clouds opened up not even ten minutes after they left town.

“Well, since we’re waiting this out…” Eddie reaches an arm over to the basket Steve had made in the backseat. He manages to pull out one of the bread loaves, breaking it in half. “Best not to wait on empty stomachs.”

Steve rubs the new red spot on his bicep, sighing and accepting the other half of the bread Eddie hands him. He sniffs, his fingers pinching the brow of his eyes and oh no-

“Hey, Steve. This is okay!” Eddie shuffles in his seat so that he leans over, his head bumping onto Steve’s shoulder. “I mean, we could’ve been drenched like dogs if we were outside right now. Plus I still get to be out of town with my favourite big boy in his amazing Beemer.”

Steve makes a light scoffing sound. “I’m your only big boy.”

“Exactly.” Eddie presses a kiss on his cheek with a loud mwah. It makes Steve roll his eyes, but his hand falls from his face and there’s a small smile now. He turns on the radio and a cheery man’s voice comes in-

“Today is nothing but promises of sun-”

“Is that the same weather guy?” Eddie narrows his eyes as Steve immediately switches the channel.

“If it is, they should fire this guy. Only clouds in the evening my ass.” Steve shakes his head, turning the dial until he stops at one of the music channels. Of course, it’s playing “It’s Raining Men” because what the hell not.

Steve’s eyes light up. His body jolts up like he’s been struck by lightning. “Oh shit! That’s one of my favourite songs!”

And then to Eddie’s absolute horror, Steve jumps out of the car and into the rain

“What the fuck!?” He almost chokes on spit and half-eaten bread just as Steve starts dancing. He’s singing the lyrics aloud as he spins and jumps on the muddy ground, seemingly giving zero fucks about being soaked and dirty. Especially as his shirt sticks to his skin with his muscles visible-

Oh, be still my gay heart.

“C’mon, Eds!” Steve’s making grabby hands, mimicking in pulling an invisible rope towards him.

“Uh, why?! I thought we’re waiting it out!”

“It’s raining men! Hallelujah!” Steve sings absurdly loud instead of answering. He even emphasizes it with a jerk of his hips goddamn.

It makes Eddie laugh. He looks out at the hard pouring and mutters “Fuck it.” He swings open the door and cringes at how unbearably wet he already is.

Steve’s arms are around his torso and easily lifts him off the ground, spinning him around. Eddie is both screeching and cackling, his cold hands gripped on Steve’s forearms for dear life. “Jesus Christ, we’re gonna fall!”

“God bless Mother Nature, I’ve found my perfect guy!” Steve cheers. He sets Eddie back down, but holds both of his hands as he starts moving in what Eddie presumes is the Harrington mating dance.

Eddie follows along because it’s too contagious not to laugh and dance with Steve, who looks more happier and free than Eddie’s ever seen.

They’re definitely both going to be sick tomorrow after this, but all of this dancing and standing in the rain with his boyfriend is so worth it.

#steddie #klaus writes

[droughtofapathy]

The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Dorothy Scott (Audra McDonald)

As Peggy Scott's pianist mother, Dorothy isn't afraid to give her husband a piece of her mind at every opportunity. Though enmeshed in bettering Black society up north, she worries for her daughter's safety down south. As she should.

Here she is boys, here she is world, the one you've all been waiting for. Six-time Tony winner Audra McDonald. *The* Broadway Diva. Our reigning queen. Our legend. Our great soprano. Audra has won more Tony Awards for performance than any other actor, and is the only one to have an award in each of the four competitive categories for which she is eligible (Best Leading Actress in a Play/Musical, Best Featured Actress in a Play/Musical). As such, she is one of three theatre greats to have nominations across said categories: the others being the late greats Jan Maxwell and Angela Lansbury. With ten nominations in total, she is tied with Julie Harris and Chita Rivera for most performance nominations and will certainly surpass them the next time she comes to Broadway.

Audra McDonald's repertoire is so vast that this post became the hardest to narrow down. I have elected to highlight a little of everything: songs from shows that deserve a little more love here on Tumblr, Audra favorites, obscure gems, etc.

#1: "The Glamorous Life," Sondheim's 80th Birthday Celebration (2010)

We have no choice but to start with Sondheim. The third of six performers in the iconic Ladies in Red segment of the Sondheim 80th Birthday Concert, Audra takes on this exquisite A Little Night Music number sung by the teenaged Frederika in the movie version (we don't talk about it).

Among Sondheim standards such as "The Ladies Who Lunch" (Patti LuPone) and "Losing My Mind" (Marin Mazzie), some considered the inclusion of this number a little misplaced. I adore it.

According to the Word of God (Donna Murphy), some of the Ladies in Red were being sewed or even taped into their dresses just minutes before taking the stage.

#2: Lady Day at Emmerson's Bar and Grill (2014)

Though this particular show features music throughout and has a phenomenal cast album, it is classified as a "play with music," thus Audra was able to win her multi-record-breaking Tony in 2014. She plays the iconic Billie Holiday in 1959 at the tail end of her career. Here, she performs in a run-down nightclub and grows increasingly drunk and demoralized throughout the evening. It is an incredible piece of both singing and acting.

#3: "As You Make Your Bed," Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny (2007)

Though the costume is something I feel we should all bear witness to, Audra's demonstration of her full operatic range adds another layer of excellence. A Weill and Brecht collaboration, Rise and Fall of the City of Mahogonny was first performed in 1930. This clip is from the 2007 Los Angeles Opera production starring Audra and Patti LuPone. Audra plays Jenny Smith, "a whore." The production was recorded for PBS's Great Productions and won two Grammy Awards.

Truly, is there anything Audra can't do?

#4: "Wheels of a Dream," Ragtime Reunion (2023)

Ragtime. Oh, Ragtime. That we live in a world where Ahrens and Flaherty's magnum opus lost Best Musical to The Lion King is my villain origin story. Natasha Richardson (Cabaret) beating out Marin Mazzie for Leading Actress is something I have to accept, but this? In 1998, Ragtime won Best Book, Best Original Score, Best Orchestrations, and Best Featured Actress for Audra McDonald's glorious Sarah. Sarah is a young woman at the turn of the century who has a baby with Brian Stokes Mitchell's (Broadway's Leading Man) Coalhouse Walker, and is taken in by Mother (Marin Mazzie), an upper-class white woman with no name after she is caught having partially buried the living child in Mother's yard. It is a masterpiece of musical talent with a breathtaking score and story.

This role won Audra her third Tony in the span of five years. Listening to Audra and Stokes reunite may well be the closest you ever get to hearing divinity. I implore you to seek out the full original cast album.

A reunion concert was planned for April 2020, but was postponed until this past year with Kelli O'Hara stepping in for the late Marin Mazzie as Mother. The concert was done as a benefit for the Entertainment Community Fund, and dedicated in memory of Marin, who passed away in 2018 from ovarian cancer, book-writer Terrence McNally who died of COVID complications in 2020 (lung cancer), and director Frank Galati, who died in 2023, also of cancer complications.

#5: Master Class (1995)

Master Class is yet another Terrence McNally work, this one a play depicting a fictionalized master class given by opera singer Maria Callas towards the end of her life. Audra, as Sharon, takes the part of her student, the second soprano. This play won Audra her second Tony, and garnered a Tony for the brilliant leading actress Zoe Caldwell, whom Audra partially named her firstborn child after some years later. Her daughter's middle name is in honor of Audra's other close friend, the late Madeline Kahn, who like Marin Mazzie, died of ovarian cancer at 57, the same age, though many years prior.

LINK TO MASTERPOST

#the gilded age #dorothy scott #audra mcdonald #ragtime #marin mazzie #sondheim #lady day at emmerson's bar and grill #rise and fall of the city of mahagonny #broadway #musical theater

[squeakintothevoid]

I decided to stop lurking and actually post my thoughts somewhere because of my man Larry here, who shared his reaction to "The Sound of Silence" covered by Disturbed. I've listened to the original by Simon & Garfunkel before but didn't pay much attention to the words. I mean, it's just that memed depression song, right?

What folly! I have failed ye, Simon & Garfunkel! But Disturbed's video made me pay attention to the obvious message:

“This is a song about the inability of people to communicate with each other"

—Art Garfunkel

Okay, I get the point. Now, if I may, I will disturb the sound of silence (ha) to share my own thoughts while I was listening to the song:

[Verse 1] Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains within the sound of silence

Let me give you some context about my life. I have social anxiety. Or did, I might not meet the criteria anymore. But woah boy, did I have social anxiety. I mean, sometimes I'd try to speak and simply could not make a sound. That's how paralyzing my fear of speaking was. I know now that this fear came from being either A) ridiculed or B) ignored whenever I spoke to my parents plus a heaping of religious trauma. Growing up, I'd hear teachers or friends say it's okay, just say what you want, be yourself. Sure, whatever. *eyeroll* I don't even have anything to say and if I did, why would I risk telling anyone? But that positive messaging still seeped in my brain somehow where it remained dormant.

[Verse 2] In restless dreams, I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night, and touched the sound of silence

Of course, I still had thoughts and emotions to say even though I kept them inside. At age 10, I considered myself like a wise sage, only speaking when necessary, but really I was emotionally stunted and always afraid. I slowly learned how to socialize though, but real progress was made when I started gaining confidence and trust in myself. Mainly because of movies and music, hence the title of my blog.

More context about me: I was raised Mormon (Latter-day saint). So like, in a cult. Or a "high-demand religion" if "cult" is too much of a buzzword for ya. Anyway, I ended up attending BYU, a Mormon college that will kick you out for not conforming to their strict "honor" code. I was understandably depressed while I was there. Except I didn't understand why at the time.

Then my eyes were stabbed by the neon light of Freddie Mercury.

For real though, Queen, among other artists, helped me see that I felt stuck, and that the next step on my hero's journey was to break free from Mormonism and my parent's expectations (and somehow not get expelled and homeless at the same time). To have confidence in myself and keep myself alive.

[Verse 3] And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never shared And no one dared disturb the sound of silence

So now I was aware of how sinister and blatantly false Mormonism was. In a university full of devout followers that will tattle on you. Followers only talking about what they're allowed to talk about, and anyone who stands out is shut down. Everything seemed so platitudinous and hateful now. Man, I wasn't ever thinking for myself before, was I? I knew there were other people at BYU in my situation, because they said so on reddit, but I didn't dare make my thoughts known to anyone in person.

[Verse 4] "Fools," said I, "You do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you" But my words, like silent raindrops, fell And echoed in the wells of silence

Simon speaks like a prophet. In Mormonism, you have a prophet that claims to be speaking the words of God. So like, you gotta listen to him or go to hell. Actually, Mormons don't really have the same idea of hell as mainstream Christianity, but you definitely won't get into the special VIP top level of heaven if you don't shut up and obey the prophet with exactness. Prophets give you commandments. Prophets tell you to give all your time, talents, and money to the LDS church. (Although they only enforce giving 10% of your income.)

But Simon isn't really speaking to tell you what to do and not do. He, like most artists, is trying to reach out to you. To emotionally express himself and encourage others to do the same. It's a refreshing idea of what a prophet could be. He's calling us fools not because we are sinners, but because he wants to share what he has learned. His writing isn't to make a cash grab. But catchy music that can be echoed in the background tends to get the best sales.

[Verse 5] And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls And whispered in the sound of silence"

Most people see the "neon god" line as a critique of consumerism, and I wouldn't disagree. It's sad that television and music in many ways raised me better than my parents, that the religious texts that promised me spiritual awakening didn't have shit on Freddie's whimsical ballads. But these "neon signs" are what saved me.

Following fandoms, lurking on tumblr, sending superwholock memes to my friends, watching stupid youtube crack videos, staying up late just vibing to the music I had. These are my prophets. It's sharing all these little pop culture things that culminated in me finally realizing that I'm alright as I am, even with my cringe hyperfixations. That maybe I can slowly learn how to speak my truth and say with a newfound sense of confidence that I do want extra ketchup. Or that I'm rejecting my parent's one true religion.

It's all good now, I never got expelled nor disowned as I feared, but I'm still healing from things. I can't say I'm a beacon of self-confidence either (right now, I'm worried this whole post is too long and pretentious). So if you took the time to read this, thanks! I know tumblr can be a hellscape of a site but I appreciate y'all. It's our little ramblings that get us through the day when we feel like nobody understands us. Here's to the whispers in the tenement halls!

Yes, I did shoehorn a spn gif in my first tumblr post, what are ya gonna do about it?

#sound of silence #the sound of silence #disturbed #simon & garfunkel #simon and garfunkel #freddie mercury #queen band #song lyrics #song reaction #song interpretation #lyrics #lyric analysis #music analysis #exmormon #what it means to me #music is therapy #ex mormon #exlds #exmo #deconstruction #religious trauma

[dragonbanexxi]

The Dragon Queen

Not Canon Compliant!!!

Jaehaera Targaryen x Aegon III Targaryen

Chapter 14: Viserys

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting and leaving a pretty painting of orange and pink hues of ending light. It was a rare thing for the city of Meeren to be so silent. Not a soul lingering through solemn streets, no vendor out to sell a thing, no brothel open to entertain. Viserys has never enjoyed silence, has never grown to appreciate the mute void of nothingness.

Moments like these were vexing to him. His mind running wild in fields of anxiety, bouts of fear and overflowing sadness. He often forgets that he’s barely ten and six years old. A man in the eyes of the law. Still apart of him still longs for his childhood. For his fathers large taut hands patting his head. For his mothers warm embrace and gentle songs. Evenings on Dragonstone just lazing around with his siblings around the large fireplace. He yearns for his late brothers. Those memories feel so foreign to him now. Viserys had only ever confessed this his sister Rhaena, but for the life of him; Viserys cannot remember what his parents looked like. Through tearful sobs and a drunken stupor he let out all his burdens to Rhaena. Loving, gentle Rhaena who held him tightly and began to cry alongside him.

“Oh sweet boy, they loved you very much.” She soothed him tenderly. “I love them, I miss them all of them, but we must move forward dear. Rhaenyra and father would want that for us.”

Viserys attempts to listened to his sister, yet the pain still lingers. No matter how hard he tries move forward. How he wishes to be like his remaining siblings. They all seem to cope with their loss valiantly. Baela and Rhaena have both been massive help in that. Being his and Aegon’s rocks for these past ten years. Guilt sways in his chest when he begins to wonder who is they’re rock in all this loss and misery?

A swift knock was heard from the door interrupting his thoughts. “Come in” he croaked unmanly like attempting to keep his emotions in line.

Jaehaera’s platinum curls made their way through his door. Offering a small smile. “Prince Viserys” her hands clasped together elegantly “I’m here to invite you to supper. Just you and I.”

The Prince’s arrogance returning once more. “Well how can I refuse such beauty?” He offers his arm. She accepts it rolling her eyes.

“You know it’s quite a convincing facade you put on” she drawls at him.

“Oh?” He asks simply. Not knowing exactly what she means. She doesn’t respond however, walking the rest of the way to her chambers in silence.

He’s been to her private quarters only once before. Of course the watchful eyes of Ser Robert Oakhart were there. Patrolling the prince like a hawk. Ready to shoot him down at any moment.

This time it was only he and his cousin. The air felt different now. Peacefully really. The large chamber was beautiful filled with gilded gold decorations of what seemed to be cattle.

“The Meerenese really like cows huh?” He asks jovially. Receiving a an equally jovial smile from Jaehaera.

“The cows are a symbol of Fertility and prosperity for the Meerenese.” She gives a little factoid. “On the day of the summer and winter solstice, the people of Meeren, Yunkai and Astapor get together and sacrifice a cow to the sun in gratitude.”

“Poor cow” the man muses. They share a laugh. There is an odd easiness to their dynamic. A familiarity that had been severed due to time and distance, yet seemed to pick up once more at their reunion.

“The religions on this side of the Narrow Sea have so many Gods” he pours Jaehaera some cherry wine. “Yet where are the Gods of tits and wine?”

The princess lets out a disappointed sigh at her cousin. “There’s more to life than lust and gluttony Prince Viserys” she teases.

“Perhaps” he quips “the next time I visit a brothel remind me to make a shrine for myself” He leans back into his chair crossing his legs regally. “I’ll be the God of tits and wine!”

Jaehaera chokes on her wine but laughs it off. “Will the women have to sacrifice a virgin on the solstice for you, my prince?”

The smile he bares at her playful “Aye but I wouldn’t kill her, I’d bend her over an-“

“You don’t have to go into detail!” She interrupts.

He’s still grinning at her playfully, but he listens to her nonetheless. “Very well”

“I actually wanted to introduce you to my dragon.”

He notes that she says dragon not dragons. Singular. He doesn’t ask her about it though. In the six months he’s been here she hadn’t showed them to him at all. Which disappointed him truly, but he understood her silent reasoning. Viserys came into her territory as a stranger. She didn’t know his true purpose of sailing all the way to Essos to find her. Jaehaera had no reason to trust him, for all she knew; Viserys Targaryen probably came to finish the war once and for all under his brothers orders. So now if Jaehaera found it in herself to trust her estranged cousin the tiniest bit. Viserys wouldn’t jeopardize it.

He watched her enter another room connected to her living quarters. He hears screeches and wings flapping. The temptation to walk over to where she was at strong. He ignores it however. Waiting patiently for her to come out. His blood was pumping fierce, anticipation eating him alive.

The only other dragon he has been near to was Morning, Rhaena’s mount. Beautiful beast, a pale pink with black veins. Beautiful but sickly. Rhaena had confessed it before he had left for Essos that the dragon was not healing as she had expected. A sad thing to think about how long his dear sister had waited to have a dragon of her own, to only have it be a sickly one.

His thoughts were broken as he heard Jaehaera’s light footsteps walking towards him.

“Prince Viserys I would like you to meet my dear Morghul” On cue her little dragon hissed at the prince. Viserys notes that it’s no bigger than a full sized house cat. The beast crawled up from her arms and perched itself on her shoulders. Morghul was all emerald scales with golden veins and horns.

“By the Gods” he says to himself. A curios hand reaches out to pet the baby dragon but quickly moves it out the way in regret. The little beast draw fire at him to repel him away.

“Shit!” Viserys says frighten. His face filled with childlike wonder.

“Morghul Likiri” Jaehaera says to her little creature. “Dohaeris” she commands. It stayed put. Nuzzling it’s tiny head against hers.

“I’m sorry about that. They’re really protective.”

“He’s beautiful” Viserys eyes never leaving Morghul.

It seem to have a strong connection to Jaehaera, as it listened obediently to her and snuggled closely to her breast. Jaehaera caresses it’s back with gentle strokes. Like how a mother would soothed a sleeping baby.

“Your brother” she begins offhandedly. Her lilac eyes locking with his amethyst ones. “He wants me to return to King’s Landing…” he swallows his spit nervously. “So that my dragons can be monitored… correct?”

“Well there’s another reason however Aegon wants to tell you it himself.”

Lilac eyes turning shrewd, making him uncomfortable.

“I hear your eldest sister has taken up the duties of managing the keep.” The duties that a queen would be expected to fulfill. The words left unsaid. He nods in response.

“Like my sisters late grandmother Rhaenys Targaryen, the queen who never was; Baela has gotten her own nickname by the people. The queen who almost was.”

Jaehaera nods her head slowly, and her emerald beast hisses out. Perhaps feeling it’s mothers discomfort. Her caresses don’t halt however. Instead she gives it a quick peck on the head.

“Your brother hopes to bind my dragons to realm through marriage, I presume?”

Panic struck his face. His heart racing more, feeling his stomach rise to his chest. Sweat forming among the silver strands of his forehead.

“Cousin-“

“it’s a yes or no question Viserys” she interjects with a commanding voice. She sat in her chair regally with a poised brow, reading him through and through like the silly boy he is.

“Jae- uhh… yes” he confesses.

Her pretty face harshens, and her eyes blaze with fury.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for the long wait! I’m trying out new meds and I’m still getting used to the side effects 🫠

#aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera targaryen #jaehaera targaryen x aegon iii targaryen #jaehaera x aegon iii

[spoodrm4n]

Better Than Me

the song in this fic

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Musician!Reader

Summary: Band AU where Steve has been ignoring you for a couple of weeks and you have no clue as to why. Robin convinces Steve to go to one of their concerts and you let him know how hurt and angry you are.

Warnings: angsssttt but w/ a happy ending :)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: this is highly self indulgent sooo hope yall enjoy

Steve stood at the very front of the stage alongside Will, El, Dustin, and Lucas who were chattering excitedly. A decent sized crowd had formed behind them, making the atmosphere almost suffocating. The sun had gone down an hour ago and the lights of the stage were the only source of light within the vicinity. The stage was lit up and had all of the equipment set up and ready to go. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the front and center of the stage that held a microphone stand. You were going to be there. And you were going to be singing. Singing right in front of him.

Robin had invited him a few days ago when they worked their usual Tuesday shift together at Family Video.

“Hey dingus, how come you haven’t been to one of our shows yet?” Robin tossed a tape onto the counter by Steve as she walked up to the opposite side of the counter across from him. 

“I keep forgetting. Stuff just keeps coming up,” Steve shrugged, struggling to hide the pink that was now gracing his cheeks. 

“You keep forgetting or stuff keeps coming up? Sounds like excuses to me, Harrington.” Robin raised an eyebrow, shifting to lean her elbows on the countertop. 

“Whatever. When’s your next show?” Steve huffed, keeping his eyes trained on the computer. He knew Robin was grinning at him like a mad man. 

“This Friday night. It’s gonna be at the fairgrounds. We’re using that stage.” Steve could hear the smile in her voice. “8pm sharp, Steve.”

“I’ve got it,” he waved his hand, attempting to sound disinterested. 

“I know why you haven’t gone to one yet.” Steve finally turned to look at Robin, eyes narrowed at the girl. 

“Do you?” He bluffed, standing up straight.

“Y/N is our lead singer.” Robin blurted out and Steve’s eyebrows shot up. 

“That is not why– I mean why would you even? Why would that make me not go? I like Y/N.” Steve stumbled over his words, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. 

“I know you do, that’s why you’ve been avoiding her.” Robin deadpanned, standing up straighter to match Steve. He wasn’t intimidating to her. 

“I have not been avoiding her–” Steve started.

“So you admit that you like her?” Robin smirked up at him. 

“That’s not what I said, Robin.” Steve groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“And you totally have, dude. She keeps asking me if she did something wrong to make you upset with her. Honestly it’s getting old and I’m tired of covering for your pathetic ass.” Robin raised her eyebrows, daring Steve to challenge her. Steve knew better. “You really hurt her, Steve. You’ve got to fix this mess.”

“I’ll go Friday, okay?” Steve sighed, letting his facade crumble. Robin’s lips turned upward and she nodded. 

“Okay.”

“Mike’s been stressing over this all week. He’s played me the bass parts for their whole set at least fifty times.” Steve turned to look at the teens beside him. “I kept telling him that he’s gonna do great. He always does,” Will was smiling and Steve was too. Steve adored how much the two boys loved each other. 

“That’s funny because I think Max maybe practiced for ten minutes before claiming that she’d do perfectly.” Lucas laughed and El nodded, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Are you excited, Steve?” Dustin was speaking up, eyes finding his own. 

“I mean yeah. Robin’s been pretty excited all week.” Steve tip-toed around your name but the teens in front of him all shared a look before El was speaking. 

“What about Y/N?” Steve swallowed, forcing a smile onto his face. He was incredibly nervous to have to actually acknowledge you because then it made all of his feelings for you real. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to have his heart shattered to pieces again. 

“She’s the lead singer, right?” He managed to get out, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. 

“Yeah! She’s insanely talented. You’re going to be blown away.” Lucas bragged for you. Steve nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she made a career out of it. She’s got what it takes.” Dustin added, elbowing Steve in the side. Steve glared at him, flicking the brim of Dustin’s hat down, blocking his vision. 

“Maybe you guys are setting the bar too high–”

“They’re not. She’s good.” Will said cooly with a shrug. Steve sucked in a breath and bit his bottom lip. Why did he ever agree to be here?

“Here they come!” El cheered, pointing towards the right of the stage. Steve watched as Eddie, Robin, Max, and Mike all walked on stage, the crowd behind them yelling and applauding. Eddie picked up his guitar, taking the far left side of the stage and earning some screams from a few girls towards the back. Mike slung his bass on, fingers skimming over the frets and Steve watched as Will leaned in farther, eyes focused on only him. Robin took her place behind the keyboard, hands messing with the knobs and buttons on the instrument. Max sat down behind the drums, picking up her sticks and twirling them. She shot a wink over to Lucas and El and the two shared a smile with one another. 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. You weren’t there. You weren’t there. He didn’t realize he had been holding his breath till he was letting it out, shoulders falling. Maybe he had lucked out tonight. 

The lights suddenly darkened and Eddie and Mike started the first few chords, the crowd going quiet. Robin joined in, fingers dancing elegantly over the keys. Finally, Max came in, striking one cymbal and foot punching down on the bass drum. Steve held his breath. He had gotten lucky. 

“Every boy from here to Soho,” and Steve’s mouth had gone dry as your voice filtered into his head. He kept his eyes locked onto the microphone stand, now frozen. “Beautiful and smart, and not good for me at all.”

“Steve, look!” He faintly heard Dustin shout, but he was already looking. There you were, waltzing onto the stage as if you owned it. You approached the center of the stage. You still hadn’t seen him, but Steve knew that wouldn’t last long. He was smack dab in the front of the crowd, lined upped perfectly with you. 

“All your girlfriends go to film school.” You sang, placing the microphone in it’s stand as you reached it. Steve barely recognized the cheering roaring behind him at the sight of you. You looked like a completely different person. The stage lights made your skin glow in the best way possible, the normal crease between your eyebrows was gone, and you took up so much space. Steve loved this look on you. 

“Robin was in plays in high school– how bout that?” You turned, motioning to Robin behind you who shot you a wink. 

You were fully aware of Steve in the front row. You had seen him standing there before the show had even started. You had been excited that he was there, since he was your best friend and you had a massive crush on him, but he had been ignoring you for the past couple weeks now. You had cried yourself to sleep for the past week wondering what you had done wrong. You were now determined that you were going to ignore him tonight. At least that’s what you had told yourself. But when the next lyrics rolled off your tongue, your eyes met his and you glared daggers into him, hoping that he could feel the hurt and anger laced in your voice.  

“Me, I’m gonna play the imbecile, oh,” he was staring back at you, eyes wide and mouth hanging slightly open. “Who keeps choosing you even though you're bipolar and you’re selfish and I hate you–” You yelled into the microphone. You could see the guilt in his irises, but you tore your gaze away, sucking in a deep breath. 

Steve couldn’t help but stare back as your gaze pierced through him. Will had even chanced a glance at the brunette, noticing the unwavering eye contact between the two. Steve felt the breath get knocked out of him as you looked away, anger written all over your face. 

“Everyone is better than me, I think, everyone is better than me,” you turned around, strutting over to where Max was at the drumset, still singing but also sharing a moment with the red head. You weren’t going to make this about Steve. He had already robbed you of enough emotion this week.

Max grinned back at you, blue eyes twinkling in the stage lights. You smiled back, finishing the chorus and letting the rest of the band have their moment. Your friends were so unbelievably talented and you swore they never got enough credit. 

Steve watched as you danced to the music, hair a wild mess and fingers gripping the microphone you held at your side. You looked so happy and carefree. Steve was sure that he would ruin that– ruin you. He wouldn’t let himself do that. You deserved the world and he didn’t have the world to give to you. 

The instrumental quieted down and you were back at center stage, holding the microphone to your lips. Steve was dangling off the edge of a cliff, holding onto a rope, and you were the one at the top holding it; keeping him from falling. 

“Look what you’ve done, now I’m a mess.” Steve drank you in, eyes finding each other again. He could feel you sawing slowly through the rope that was holding him steady. He barely registered the tremble of his hands. 

“Are you okay?” Steve snapped his head down to see El standing beside him, worry pinched between her eyebrows. 

“Yeah–” He breathed out.

“Yeah, everyone is better than me!” Steve’s head snapped towards your voice. There you still were, eyes narrowed and locked onto him.

Your eyes flickered between him and the crowd. “Throw your hands up if you agree with me!” You were angry. You were so angry. He had treated you like you were nothing for the past two weeks and he thought he could just show up to a random Friday night concert, front row, and look upset about it. You couldn’t help but single him out. 

“Now everyone is better than me.” Steve’s ears rang, the volume of your voice making him dizzy. You were angry with him and it was all his fault. 

“I think, everyone is better than me.” Steve felt his stomach lurch and with that he was pushing past people in the crowd. He needed to get out of there. 

You watched as he disappeared into the crowd and you barely even noticed that you had dropped your microphone. The crowd of people in front of you cheered, assuming the mic drop was a part of the song as the rest of the band behind you continued to play. You stood there dumbly, blinking away tears that threatened to spill over your lash line. Steve didn’t care about you anymore. He had made that abundantly clear. 

Suddenly the stage lights were entirely too bright, the instruments accompanying you were overwhelmingly loud, and the air around you was stuffy, choking you out. You felt sick as you turned, jogging off stage quickly. You heard as the band trailed off into silence behind you, Robin’s voice filtering through the microphone in a quick apology. 

You ran until you were colliding with something, getting knocked on your ass. You hit the ground with an ‘oof’ and looked up. The breath was knocked out of your lungs as your eyes met Steve’s big, brown ones. 

“What are you doing here?” The malice in your tone was a deeper cut in the rope that Steve was holding onto. 

“I-I came here for–”

“You know what? It doesn’t even matter. Why would I care when you clearly don’t give a shit about me.” You cut him off, frustration seeping into your words. You felt the hot tears drip down your cheeks and you mentally cursed yourself. You hated that you cried when you were angry. It made you feel extremely vulnerable. 

“Y/N, listen. I know I’ve been an asshole the last two weeks,” Steve started and you shook your head, standing up and hands balling into fists at your side. Steve stayed on the ground, head tilting up to look at you. 

“Yeah, you have. I’m so glad you’ve noticed. You didn’t even tell me why, Harrington.” Steve flinched at his last name. It felt foreign coming from your lips. 

“Because I thought it would be better if I didn’t.” He admitted, standing up slowly to meet you. 

“That’s stupid, Steve. It felt like you just abandoned me.” You cried, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to get hurt.” Steve tried, avoiding the truth still. He didn’t want to outright say he was in love with you. His mouth felt impossibly dry.

“That’s selfish of you. And why would you ever think I would hurt you? I’ve known you for years, Steve! We’ve only gotten into one real argument!” You threw your hands in the air, voice cracking with emotion. 

“No, I know you would never hurt me.” Steve argued, voice rasing with yours. 

“Then why are you avoiding me like I would?” You yelled, no longer caring if anyone else would hear. You were incredibly confused and Steve wasn’t doing much to clear his name right now. 

“Because I’m in love with you!” Steve’s chest heaved and you snapped your mouth shut. The only sounds that could be heard were muted instruments and crowd. 

“Oh.” You choked out, blinking at him. And that was the final cut to the rope that held Steve there with you. Steve looked away from you finally, face crumbling and a hand running through his hair. 

“Yeah, oh.” He breathed, clenching his jaw. 

“Steve.” Your voice was gentle now and Steve wanted to look at you, but he was still falling from the rope that you had cut. He continued to look at the ground beneath him, acting as if the blades of grass beneath him were more entertaining than the girl in front of him. 

“Steve, look at me.” And you were gently grabbing his chin, turning him to face you. He begrudgingly met your stare for what seemed like the millionth time tonight. “I love you too, dumbass.” You laughed, tears watering your words down.

“You love me?” He repeated, eyes searching your face for any signs of a lie. He found none and all at once the rope that had been cut was replaced by your hand, hoisting him up and over the edge to where you were. 

“Yes. You should’ve just said something.” You smiled, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Steve decided that you looked ethereal that way. 

“I’m sorry–”

“Just kiss me? Please?” You cut him off. Steve nodded before he leaned in, lips finding their way onto yours. You melted into him, arms circling around his neck and drawing him nearer to you. His palms laid against your waist and pulled you closer, thumbs brushing against your sides gently. 

Will shushed Dustin, Lucas and El quickly as he stumbled upon the two of you kissing behind the stage. Lucas and El gasped and shared a look with each other at the sight of you two. Dustin wore a wide grin on his face.

“Dude, I told you!” Lucas whispered, punching Will playfully in the arm. “Pay up, Byers.” 

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x musician!reader #steve harrington fic #steve x reader

[lilithgrax]

Seeing In Color

Summary: Jungkook decides karate is better than boxing and takes you to Dragon’s Gate, where you meet the Boy With the Dragon Tattoo.

Pairings: Yoongi/Reader

Rating: PG; swearing

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: What should we do with our little Taetae?

You can find this work on my Ao3 as well at Lillith_Grax.

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven

Taehyung is looking at you with predatory eyes, narrowed at you with that smirk still on his face. It's hard to tell whether or not he's asking in a joking manner or he's asking because he's interested, but either way, it makes your skin crawl. Especially with Yoongi standing right next to you. What do you say? You're not really an item, but you don't want to have Yoongi thinking you don't want more, either. Neither Yoongi nor Jungkook come to your rescue; all three at the table waiting patiently, and perhaps curiously, for your answer.

"Well… I'm not available, if that's what you're asking."

Jungkook licks his lips and you lock eyes, he nods at you almost imperceptibly. It's his way of telling you that was a good answer. Taehyung laughs gleefully.

"I'm just being nosy," He sing-songs, nibbling on his bottom lip. So he does enjoy drama. "I don't mean to imply you're not attractive. But I'm sure you've been told that already."

Yoongi gives a nervous chuckle from over your shoulder and you feel his hand fidget on the back of your chair- you're hoping to God this little meeting hasn't changed his feelings about you, if he even has any. Taehyung is stirring up a lot of thoughts in your head and you just can't decide how you feel about this man. A part of you is annoyed that he's making things awkward, but another part of you understands that he has no idea what's really going on. He doesn't know you and Yoongi humped last night, doesn't know that Jungkook got his dick sucked by another guy, and only might know that he's got a huge crush. You clear your throat and try to do Jungkook as big of a favor as you can, feigning ignorance that he's head over heels for this man. You meet Taehyung's gaze.

"So, you know Jungkook from class? Or do you guys hang out often?"

"Oh, I know him from my sculpture and painting class. This is the first time I've seen him outside of class, actually…" he thinks, turning to stick his pouty bottom lip out inquisitively at Jungkook. "Are you busy right now? Or are you going to hang out some more with y/n?"

Jungkook's eyes go wide and pinball back and forth between the two of you. You can practically hear the thoughts racing through his brain, not wanting to bail on you as a friend, but you also know that right now he hates that Taehyung is seeing him not looking his best with bags under his eyes and a ratty hoodie on. Yoongi startles the group by speaking up.

"Have you guys eaten lunch or anything yet? There's that new tapas place next to the movie theater." He drops his head and looks you in the eyes. "Want to go?"

You know that he's asking the group but the way he's looking at you makes you feel like the only one in the room. His voice is soft, seemingly directed only at you, and for a moment you feel bad. You can tell Yoongi is not the social type, and he might just be doing this so he can spend more time with you.

"Ooooohhh." Taehyung perks up. "Sangria?"

"It's like, not even 1pm yet." You chuckle in a small voice.

"So?" Jungkook glares at you as if saying, don't fuck up my chance right now. "It's past noon, isn't it? Besides, I just had this huge coffee. It'll be fun."

Taehyung studies Jungkook's face for a lingering second. "You sure?

Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned it if you just went drinking last night."

"W-well-"

Yoongi cuts in, saving Jungkook from his stammering. "At least let me and Jungkook go home first and change. I just finished my classes for the morning and I don't want to go anywhere gross in my sweatpants. I'll shower meet you guys there in about an hour."

"Sounds like a deal." Taehyung stands, downing the rest of his coffee and already making for the door. "I'll get a head start on my first sangria before the rest of you get there."

Jungkook practically kisses Yoongi's feet once they get out to the parking lot. He waves to Taehyung as he drives away in his car and once he’s safely out of view, grabs Yoongi by the shoulders and lets out a huge breath.

"Oh my God, thank you so much. You really saved my ass; Taehyung has never seen me in anything other than my best and I think I just about died. I felt like I was being interrogated."

Yoongi scoffs and gives him a little one-sided smile. "It was hard enough watching you squirm, I got second hand embarrassment seeing you sweating bullets. Does he know your head over heels for him? It's written all over your big dumb face."

Jungkook's eyes go wide and he opens his mouth to argue, but he knows he flirts with Taehyung every chance he gets. The odds that he knows Jungkook wants him is most likely less than zero. The three of you say your goodbyes and Yoongi makes sure you all have the right address. You make to part; but Yoongi walks you to your car, stopping you before you can get in. You’re still looking at the ground, looking at his shoes, trying not to notice the band of his underwear that’s peeking out from the top of his sweatpants. Before he says anything, the first thought in your mind comes out.

“You don’t have to do this, Yoongi. I mean, you don’t have to be social and go places and do things because of me.”

“Do you think I’m not the social type?”

“No!” Your head snaps up to him, terrified he’s getting the wrong idea. “That’s not what I meant, I mean I don’t think you’d do things just because of me, I mean…”

You stop your rambling when you notice the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and your cheeks start to heat up.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about last night, y/n.” He says to you, head ducked and his voice so low, you try not to collapse onto the pavement then and there. “I, um… I get pretty bold when I’ve been drinking. I just don’t want you to think that because I don’t have my hands all over you like I did last night, I’m not interested.”

“I remember you said you’re usually shy.” You squeak out.

“It’s just-“ He starts, bringing a hand to swipe at his face, as if to shield it. He lets out a huff of air and his gummy smile shows through just for a second. He licks his lips. “I don’t want to give any mixed signals. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

He shrugs. “Relationships?”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.”

“I’m kind of an introvert, I guess.” His voice seems sad.

"Really, Yoongi,” you feel the need to repeat yourself. “Don’t go out and be all social for me. You should just be yourself and do what makes you happy.”

He takes a step closer to you, hand sliding along the roof of your car.

“Being with you makes me happy.”

“You barely know me, though.” You feel your cheeks getting hot at his proximity and bleat out a chuckle, crinkling your nose. “You’re not acting very shy right now.”

Yoongi lets out his own awkward laugh and he looks down at the pavement, his crooked smile once again making an appearance. 

“I’m awkward,” He says matter-of-factly, derisive of himself. For a second he taps his fingers nervously on the roof of your car. “I do barely know you, but I want to know more. Unless you don’t want?” He adds the last part so softly it tugs at your heart strings.

“I do!” You respond a little too enthusiastically in Yoongi’s face, and he flinches.

You both giggle and he bites his bottom lip, looking at you with twinkling eyes. 

“See you in an hour?” He takes a few steps back and let’s you get into your car. 

You smile and nod and tell him you look forward to it. 

---

It takes you a hair over fifteen minutes to get to the movie theater from the coffee shop. When you park, you see the sign for the restaurant right next to it, and walk into the theater entrance. To your left is the entrance to the tapas place and when you squint, you can see Taehyung seated at a big table next to the fence that overlooks the sidewalk. It dawns on your that, duh, the other two had to go home and change, and you contemplate going to wait in your car- but of course, Taehyung spots you. He waves you over just as his first glass of sangria is being placed in front of him, and he leans over to say something to the waiter while pointing at you. When you get over to the table he gives you that huge boxy smile again and gestures for you to sit across from him. You hang your purse on the back of your chair along with your jacket and when you sit down, you notice his eyes giving you a quick once-over.

"Green is really your color, y/n" he says quietly, "it brings out your eyes."

You look down at the emerald green, plain v-neck blouse you're wearing, saying thank you and clearing your throat. He's still smiling at you and certainly doesn't seem like he feels awkward, but you certainly do.

"How is the sangria?" You offer, trying to change the subject.

He opens his mouth to answer when the waiter comes back over and places a glass in front of you. You thank him and Taehyung chuckles as he walks away from the table.

"I haven't tried it yet, I was waiting for yours to come. That would be rude of me." He picks his glass up and tilts it towards you. "Cheers! I hope you don't mind that I ordered you one."

It's good. Really good. The atmosphere in this place is warm and inviting; it's not too crowded since it's early and the smell of sizzling food has your mouth watering. It's decorated in lots of browns and reds and you find yourself smiling at the ambiance. You use a toothpick to pluck a frozen blueberry out of your glass, then a cherry.

"So what did you guys do last night?" He asks you in a sing-song voice, leaning on to the heel of his palm and looking at you through his eyelashes. "I didn't get all the details." He adds, smirking.

"We just went to karaoke and had a later night then we expected. It was a lot of fun." You answer simply, not wanting to divulge any more details. You wonder for a second if this is how he is when he's in his class. If he is, you can tell why Jungkook claims pretty much everyone has a crush on him- he's flirtatious and he's nosy. And people love when a person seems to want to know everything about them, it gives them the sense that the other person really cares. The goal is finding out if Taehyung really does care about anything at all or he just likes spreading gossip.

"Oh? Do you like singing?"

"I actually didn't sing any songs last night, ironically…" You chuckle and lift your glass to your lips for a sip.

Taehyung offers his own little laugh as well. "If you didn't sing at karaoke, what was so fun about it?"

You freeze in your seat. You know its an innocent, albeit prying question; he has no idea what happened between you and Yoongi. Although somebody like Taehyung who takes a lot of pleasure in snooping around in other people's lives probably has a lot of experience reading body language and knowing when someone is hiding something. You decide it doesn't fucking matter- it's none of his business, even if he wants to meddle, you won't let him.

"Watching other people sing is plenty fun! I like to dance along."

Taehyung gives titters out another little laugh and gives you an 'I see' over the rim of his glass.

He definitely knows you're hiding something.

#seeing in color #bts yoongi #bts suga #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #jungkook #min yoongi #kim taehyung

[rossellini-tyrell]

My glorious return to writing?? Preview below

It's there he sees it, the harsh taupe line cutting a swath across alabaster skin. A flash through the ample arm hole of Killua's tank. It's merely a glimpse, just for half a second or so, but it's then that Kurapika's blood chills where it sits in his veins, his throat dries, crackles, the gasp cut off, dead on his tongue. It all clicks into place. A visceral ache, a profound sorrow deep in Kurapika's bones. A little boy with hair like fresh straw and eyes like the winter sea standing in front of a bathroom mirror a lifetime ago, wind crushed from his lungs in a way he'd always remember the first time he- "Oh, Killua," he laments. The name tumbles forth from his lips like a prayer, so profoundly sad, reverent, where Killua freezes in place, snaps his head about his shoulder to take in Kurapika's expression. (CONTENT NOTE: THE CONTENT BELOW THE CUT CONCERNS A CHARACTER BEING OUTED AS TRANSGENDER AND MAY BE UPSETTING TO SOME READERS)

It's in the heaviness of Kurapika's eyelids, the softening of the lines around his mouth that Killua realizes he knows. "W-why are you looking at me like that?" Killua shudders. Skinny arms cross in front of his narrow frame, as if to defend himself from an attack that isn't coming. "Oh, Killua," Kurapika murmurs again, mouth forming around the syllables like they're precious. Without permission, Kurapika pitches forward and gathers Killua into a bear hug; soft fuzzy platinum hair tickles his cheek. Killua tenses immediately, his first instinct to claw his assailant to tatters, leave them here on the tatty bathroom rug. Kurapika's hold is unyielding, and it's surprisingly warm, warm like the way Gon's arm feels around his shoulder when he's dragging him off to Watch this! for the eighteenth time, even though he knows whatever Gon has to show him is going to be lame, but he does anyway because it's Gon. This hug is, perhaps, even better than Gon's, although he'd die before he'd ever admit that. But right now, he's scared, confused, embarrassed because fucking Kurapika of all people read him like a book, and he breaks. "I-I don't understand-" he blubbers. The first tears are hot against a ruddy cheek. "I know, Killua," croons Kurapika. One elegant hand fists in the scratchy fabric of the tank. "I know." What in the fuck could he know? Killua screeches in the recesses of his mind. It comes out instead as a sob, a high, pitiful wail that's muffled in the plush folds of Kurapika's sweater. Kurapika pets his head, lets his nails drag lightly on Killua's scalp as he hugs him tighter. It's here, bracketed between the Kurta's knees on the bathroom floor, shorts long since cast aside and forgotten, that Killua shatters, and Kurapika somehow holds the pieces together.

Five minutes pass. Ten, Fifteen, maybe. Killua's not counting. He stops hiccoughing long enough to notice he's ruining Kurapika's expensive sweater with his tears and snot. Kurapika seems nonplussed by this, only hums what might be a childhood folk song of his, gently cleans up his blotchy face with some toilet paper.

"You d-don't know, Kurapika," croaks Killua. Kurapika sets his mouth, shakes his head to and fro, golden hair bobbing along. "No, Killua, I know," he insists. It's then when he takes hold of the loose neckline of his top, and pulls it down enough to expose his chest. Except where his chest should be, there's the sheen of tightly-stretched fabric, the subtle hint of rolling curves where there should be none to speak of. Killua finds himself gaping and flopping about like one of Gon's trophies.

"You have...you...you're like me?" he sputters. Kurapika's lips quirk into a soft smile. The one he reserves for Gon, for Leorio, and now, for him too. "It would seem so," he affirms. "The bandages you're using to bind with are showing clear through your shirt, by the way, that's how I deduced you were also transgender."

The Zoldyck startles, recoils to cover his torso as if he were naked. "Is it really that obvious??" he squeaks. Killua's expression scrunches up into something so fearful it causes Kurapika's chest to squeeze, so much that he never wants to see the boy's face do that ever again in his life. "No, no!" Kurapika rushes to clarify. Two hands find Killua's tightly fisted ones, he presses his thumbs in as if to say please, oh please, and is rewarded when the boy unclenches and lets him take his clammy, tremoring hands in his own.

"Hey, no, Killua, I wasn't implying you're not passing; I truthfully had no idea until now," reassures Kurapika, features softening. "I only noticed because when I was your age, I used to do the same thing. You're doing great, I hope you know that." Killua eases a bit. The compliment makes him feel muzzy on the inside, not the way Illumi's would leave slimy trails wending about his brain, nor the way Gon's would make his heart tap-tap-tap against his ribcage. "T-thanks," he chatters. The Zoldyck averts his eyes. "And, um, I'm sorry for freaking out on you."

Kurapika sniffs a grin. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sure making that discovery was understandably frightening," Kurapika's voice is warm, tinged with humor, a familiarity he's only shown for his friends, guarded from outsiders. "I certainly was, and I'd at least been prepared!"

#fanfiction #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter fanfic #kurapika #kurapika kurta #hxh #hxh fanfic #hxh killua #hxh kurapika #killua zoldyck #killua #gon freecss #my writing #hi astv people i promise ill work on nothings gonna change my world soon

[sesshy380]

⭐🍇

The moment I saw these, I knew the exact two scenes from longfic I wanted to share.

⭐ share a snippet where a character is the best at something

Chapter 17 in the arcade where Kat (OC) decides to show off her Guitar Hero skills after a pair of jerks try to belittle her and Marik.

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“Hey lovebirds, take your sweet-talk somewhere else. You’re standing in front of our game ,” one of them said in a snobbish tone.

“ Your game? Sorry, I must have missed the plaque that said it belonged to you,” Kat commented sarcastically while looking towards the pair she deemed to be nothing more than jerks.

“Sweetheart, this game is for hardcore gamers only. Your wanna-be boy-toy doesn't fit that description,” he continued rudely.

Marik scowled bitterly and opened his mouth to say something in defense, but Kat pressed her hand against his chest to indicate that he should remain silent. “You know what, I changed my mind. I want to play this game,” she stated, acting smug.

The two guys laughed in mockery. “Oh please! A tiny girl like you ….playing a game like this !” the other choked out between fits of laughter.

Kat released Marik’s arm, picked up the controller, looked the laughing pair dead in the eye, then selected the ‘Expert’ difficulty. She then scrolled through the songs, stopping at one in particular while sporting a wicked grin.

“Oh look, she thinks she can play ‘Through the Fire and Flames’!” the first one continued to laugh. “Sweetheart, no one can beat that! There’s no way you’ll even stand a chance!”

Marik hadn’t heard of the song, but guessed based on their reaction that it wasn’t an easy one to play. He wondered if she had chosen the song as pure irony because of her status as a flame elemental. As soon as she selected ‘Start’, he quickly discovered there was more than irony in her song choice. As she hit the 100 note streak in the first ten seconds, he realized this song was pretty much one giant ‘Fuck You’ to the two jerks. Compared to the song that the group before them had played, this one was insanely fast paced, with continuous strings of notes flying down the screen. Not only had Kat started singing along with the lyrics (making Marik realize she knew this particular song pretty well), but she was barely looking at the screen. Instead her eyes were closed half the time as she fully got into the rhythm of the song, clearly enjoying herself. She acted as if she was holding an actual guitar in her hand, and not a controller.

He looked over to see the pair that had ridiculed them staring, their faces flushed in embarrassment and jaws nearly on the floor. He also noticed that people were stopping to watch, forming a small crowd. As soon as she finished with the song the words ‘ YOU ROCK! ’ surrounded in flames flashed across the screen, followed by a detailed list that showed she had scored 100% across the board. Kat calmly placed the controller back on its stand, looked the pair of jerks dead in the eye one last time, grinned devilishly, then held up both middle fingers while walking away backwards through the crowd. Marik couldn’t help but laugh at the sight and followed after her, not even bothering to look back to see everyone else’s reactions.

🍇 share a snippet with food(or the palpable lack of food)

Chapter 55. I have dubbed this chapter 'Burgers are Salad' for a reason. Also, to avoid confusion, Yamima is called Malik in longfic (since this is a heavy Marik and Malik chapter...and yes, I have to really pay attention when writing chapters with these two interacting). Additionally, in this AU, Malik existed during Atem's time (and is an elemental like Bakura and OC) and wasn't created by Marik (it's very convoluted and explained in story).

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“Did you seriously just order a bunch of pork dumplings and nothing else?” Marik asked in repulsion as he stared at the pile on Malik’s plate.

Malik narrowed his eyes and glared across the table at the young Tomb Keeper. “You don’t hear me complaining about what you chose to order.” He didn’t blink as he shoved an entire dumpling in his mouth.

Atem remained silent, content to stay out of the line of fire between the two as he ate his bowl of ramen.

“I grew up underground where meat was scarce. Even when it was available, everything had to be used immediately or it went to waste. I never liked the idea that an animal's only purpose in life was so that it could be slaughtered,” Marik stated bitterly.

“Reality check: That is their purpose. Why do you think they exist?” Malik questioned pointedly.

Marik scowled. “I could ask the same thing about you.”

Malik opened his mouth to reply, then quickly closed it, his eyes shifting back and forth as he contemplated the point. “Fair enough,” he said with a casual shrug.

“I swear, you’re as bad as Bakura when it comes to meat. At least Kat has the decency to limit its consumption in front of me,” Marik stated irritably.

“Fine, next time I’ll get a salad. Would that make you happy?” Malik asked, appearing annoyed.

“ You would eat a salad?” Marik asked skeptically.

Malik grinned. “Oh absolutely! A grilled angus and portobello salad with swiss, grilled onion, and untoasted croutons, topped off with a nice and creamy garlic pepper dressing,” he said sarcastically.

Marik’s face fell. “That’s called a mushroom-swiss burger…”

Malik popped another dumpling into his mouth. “It has lettuce, therefore it counts as a salad,” he argued casually.

“You’re being annoying on purpose, aren’t you?” Marik asked flatly.

Malik smirked sarcastically as a reply.

#snippet asks #answered asks #anon #longfic au

[ashleycatchemm]

1-07: Now Or Never

Part 7 of ??

Pairings: Reggie x Reader, Luke x Julie, Willie x Alex

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: Now Or Never (Julie and The Phantoms Cast)

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

After a couple of hours of flipping through the book, I got through the whole book twice and wasn't able to find a thing. I huffed in anger and rubbed my head in annoyance "Damn it. There is no way I'm going to Caleb for those damn answers." My phone suddenly started buzzing, my ringer being turned off, pulling the phone out of my back pocket, I noticed the caller ID to be Julie.

I swiped to the right to answer the call, bringing the phone up to my right ear I said "Hey Julie. What's up?" She was quick to respond "Oh no. Don't 'Hey Julie' me." I flinched a little at her tone of voice.

"First Flynn gets angry at us and now you skip school? Aren't you at least a bit determined to make it up to her?"

I shrugged while getting up to sit on my bed "Well, Yeah. Of course I am. You guys are like family to me." Julie huffed in anger on the phone before speaking "If that's true, than meet me at my moms studio. Pronto." With that she hung up, not even giving me a chance to respond.

Taking the phone away from my ear, I stared at my lock screen for a couple of seconds before getting up to go put the candles and books back in the compartment.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

I walked over to Julie's house and was quick to knock on the door only for Julie's father to answer. "Oh, Hey (Y/n). Julie just headed out back." He threw a thumb over his shoulder and I was about to respond when a small tune of what sounded to be an electric guitar and a bass could be heard coming from the back of the house. I widened my eyes while stating "Sounds like Julie already started without me, I better get going!" Squeezing past her dad I was quick to make my way to the studio.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

Once I made it to the studio Julie opened the door and was about to slip inside, only for her to notice me and gesture for me to go in. I nodded my head a bit to the tune of the guitar and bass, only for Julie to walk in next to me, shutting the door behind her.

"Guys."

This caused both boys to stop playing and look at the two of us. Reggie turning around in the process. "You aren't supposed to be playing out here alone" Reggie was quick to correct Julie as he stated "But we're not alone" Luke came up from behind him, throwing an arm over Reggie, pulling him close for a hug from behind " 'Cause we always have each other." Giant smiles sat on the two of their faces as Reggie looked back at Luke and pointed at him, only to quickly bring his hand back down and look back over at the two of us.

Reggie chuckled a little as Luke took his arm back and stepped a few feet away, I went over to the couch as Julie said "Ugh" Before unplugging the amp, I flopped back across the couch, legs crossed on one end, my head sitting on the pillow on the other. Luke took off his guitar and explained "But...but we had the volume level on one." Reggie was quick to throw in his input as Julie walked over to stand in front of the piano.

"But we rocked it, on volume ten."

Reggie was quick to gesture behind him to the amp as he asked "Want us to play it again?" I snapped one of my fingers at him, causing my fingers to look like a gun as I pointed at him while stating "Yes." Luke cheerfully went to grab his guitar, Reggie's attention was now on me, as was Julie's, she narrowed her eyes at me and was quick to say "No." in response.

Luke let out a sigh before sadly putting down his guitar as she unplugged the other amp. Reggie's attention was still on me, as was mine on him. He raised his brows at me, a small smirk gracing his lips as he sent me a wink with a smile showing his pearly whites. Taking off his bass, Luke pointed at Julie "We've actually been waiting for you to get home" Reggie turned around, rubbing his hands together in excitement as their attention was now on Julie.

"Ok, so we have some pretty major news to tell you."

Luke explained as Julie waited patiently for the news "We had a band meeting earlier, and..." Luke pointed at Reggie, as he hit his hands on his thighs in a drum roll, All while making a weird face. This caused a giggle to escape my lips. Reggie stopped drumming and glanced over at me, a smile on his face, before looking back at Julie. "We wanna invite you to join Sunset Curve. And no, you're not dreaming" Luke stated as Reggie cheerfully brought his hands together in excitement, the two of them smiling brightly.

Julie let out a slow sigh, not to thrilled about the idea as she stated "Oh." In a boring manor. Causing both of their smiles to drop as Luke said "Oh, uh.....oh, she said 'oh' um..." he chuckled quickly in fake amusement, now starting to grow aggravated as he's been told 'no' twice in one day. "That's what you say when you get socks on your birthday, not when you're invited to join the most epic band ever." I let out a small chuckle at their disappointed faces.

"Sorry. I'm honored, but I can't think about anything but Flynn right now. She's still mad at me for lying. She hasn't even texted me back."

Julie stated worriedly as Luke looked away "Yeah you're in a tough spot..." Reggie nodded his head in agreement "Yeah" he said as Luke looked back at Julie and asked "So, do you wanna join the band?" Julie's frown was quick to turn into an angry scowl before stating "Read the room dude." And walking over towards me, I stared at her in confusion as she opened her mouth to say something only to get cut off by Luke.

He stood close behind her "Oh come on! We need you, and you need us because you need music." This caused Julie to turn around and listen to the two of them, my eyes landing on Reggie as he looked at Julie and Luke "We found this poem that you wrote.." looking at Reggie, Luke stated "And Reggie and I, we added this really cool melody to it." I watched as a giant smile formed on Reggie's face, causing my heart to beat a bit faster within my chest.

A smile of my own sat on my lips as I stared at him. Luke took out and unfolded a piece of paper as he stated "It sounds awesome." Julie's stern voice now grabbed all three of our attentions, the boys looking away from the paper, as I looked away from Reggie, only for all eyes to land on Julie. "Where did you find that?" Luke was quick to pull Reggie in front of him, only for Reggie's eyes to land on me, rather than the girl in front of him.

"Uh... definitely not your dream box"

Julie stepped forward angrily "You went through my stuff?!" She ended up pushing Reggie out of the way to get to Luke. Reggie fell on top of my legs as Luke was now getting chased by Julie around the piano "I know, but..." Reggie was quick to get up off my legs, a light blush coating both of our cheeks as he looked over at Julie with a smile "Yeah, we can do that now!" I let out a small laugh as he smiled down at me, moving my legs I nodded my head for him to sit down, which he gladly did.

Once he sat down, he put his arms back along the top of the couch, as I threw my legs back on top of him, causing him to grunt from the impact of my legs. "No! No you can't! Boundaries! Give it back!" She slammed her hands on the piano in anger and distress. Luke hopped on the bench seat before stating "No! Hey, you need to realize how insanely talented you are. Ok? Listen to this." He put the paper down on the piano and read it to her.

"If somebody hurts you..."

She tried to grab the paper out of Lukes hand only for him to quickly hide it from her and keep it out of reach. "If somebody hurts you, I'm gonna get hurt too." He then started singing "And my life, my life would be real low, zero, flyin solo..." Reggie nodded his head along with the tune before adding a "Oh-oh" at the end with a smile. Julie and Luke both looked over at Reggie who now sat on the couch with me, only to look back at each other.

"It's a killer melody"

Luke stated, only for Julie to sigh and respond with "I wrote that about Flynn, when she was helping me with all my mom stuff. I gotta go."

Julie turned around and headed towards the door while gesturing for me to go with her "Come on (Y/n)." I sent her a confused look, as she stopped to face me "Why do I have to go?" Julie let out a sigh in slight aggravation "Because she's your friend." I scoffed while crossing my arms a cross my chest "Yeah, a friend who thinks I'm crazy, and calls me a drunk." Julie shook her head.

"You know what? I don't feel like having this conversation right now." She continued to walk toward the door only for Luke to speak up "Hey, what about the band?" Julie stepped outside the door before turning around "Oh....I almost forgot. Stay out of my room!" With that she slammed the doors shut and walking away.

"Yeah?"

Luke asked before hopping off the piano and running over to the door. Luke stuck his head out of it "We will if you join our band." He shouted at Julie. I looked over at Reggie, only to see him giving me a stern look "What?" I asked as Luke hopped back up on the piano, summoning his guitar to play it. Reggie's eyebrows raised as he stated "You know you should help Julie look." I shook my head, all while narrowing my eyes at Reggie.

"And why should I? All Flynn does is attack me about my drinking problems."

Luke stayed quiet, strumming his guitar, deciding to keep out of this conversation. "She does that because she cares, and is worried about you." My angry eyes looked off to the side, not having a response to give. After a couple of seconds of silence, Reggie sighed "Look." Reggie stated, all while placing his hands on my shoulders, my eyes landed back on him.

Reggie's green eyes stared into my (e/c) ones "Flynn is just looking out for you. Just a little harsher than Julie is, because she doesn't want you going down a bad path. I know that right now you'd rather not bother with her, but she's still your friend, so please, try to help look for her? Because it would be the right thing to do." Reggie sent me a small smile, and I stared at him for a couple of seconds.

A groan in annoyance left my lips as I swung my legs off of his "Fine! I'll go." Reggie's smile grew as I got up and marched over to the door. "Just, stay here." I pointed to the both of them before walking out the door and slamming it shut.

*Reggie’s P.O.V*

A smile sat on my face as I watched (Y/n) leave. A warm feeling spread through my chest at being able to convince her to go help Julie. My arms stayed along the top of the couch as I stared longer than needed at the door that slammed shut behind her. The sound of Luke's guitar being the only thing heard in the room until he cleared his throat, grabbing my attention.

I looked over at Luke, the smile still sitting on my face as I moved my arms down from on top of the couch. "Man, you've got it bad." Luke chuckled as the smile left my face, only to get replaced with a confused look. "What?" I asked, Luke chuckled and stopped strumming his guitar.

He looked up at me "Come on man." His hands wrested on his guitar as he continued "You two have only known each other for two days, yet you both act like you've known each other for two years." I shook my head in response to his claim.

"Luke, we barely know each other. I can't have a thing for her- I don't have a thing for her."

I sternly shook my head in denial, but over all felt my cheeks grow warm in response to my statement. 'I don't like her like that. Sure she's attractive. But it's only been two days. Two flipping days!' I felt my heart beat a bit faster just from the thought of her.

Luke chuckled in response before giving a shake of his head "Okay, keep telling yourself that Reginald." I rolled my eyes at the use of my first name, as he went back to strumming his guitar.

My boots came up onto the coffee table in front of me, crossing one leg over the other. My eyes drifted back over to the closed door, only for a smile to tug at the corner of my lips. 'Maybe I do feel something...' the thought stayed in my brain for a couple of seconds, only for me to quickly shake my head 'But she's a human and I'm a ghost. There is no way this would work.' I let out a small sad huff as my smile quickly faded away.

I sat up and took my boots off the table, bringing my feet back down to the floor beneath me. I was quick to move my attention away from the door and walked over to Luke who was by the piano.

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#reggie peters x reader #reggie peters #jatp #jatp juke #willie jatp #willex jatp #julie molina #flynn taylor #alex mercer #luke patterson #caleb covington #carrie wilson #julie and the fat ones #julie and the phantoms #x reader #fem reader #fanfic