#and it’s his last concert so actually that one’s worse

[milflewis]

the fact that i can’t go see hozier in concert again is a hate crime

#like. i physically do Not have the money in my account and the tickets come out tomorrow #pls i’d have money in like a WEEK. could they not have delayed the sale :(((( #AND I CANT SEE SAM FENDER TOO . OR BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN #and it’s his last concert so actually that one’s worse #blessed.txt

[verstappen-cult]

#. . . Five times Max refuses to acknowledge he’s sick + one time he does.

request made by @lucien-calore. . . “hi, you asked for a max request and i shall deliver! can i please have a sickfic where max refuses to acknowledge he's sick (a flu or something, nothing too serious) but when he does, he acts like a drama queen?”

#1

You’re making dinner when you hear Max coughing from his streaming room, then the laughs of his friends making fun of him. 

You don’t think too much about it. That is until he can’t stop coughing while you’re eating, and when you’re getting ready for bed, and at all during the night. 

It’s only in the morning, as you’re making breakfast and he’s feeding the cats, when you decide to say something. 

“Baby?” You say, trying to look nonchalant while making the eggs. 

“Yes?” He puts the cat food away and makes his way to you. Max hugs your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What happens?”

“I’m gonna go to the pharmacy after pilates, do you need anything?” 

Max hums, like actually thinking about it before saying, “No, love. Got everything I need.”

“You sure? Nothing for that cough you have?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kisses your cheek and pulls away, grabbing an apple. “I’m gonna be streaming, make sure to say goodbye before you leave, okay?”

#2

“Are you okay?” It’s the fourth time in less than an hour that Max enters the kitchen to fill his bottle of water.

“Yeah, it’s just that all the singing and screaming at the concert last night left me with a sore throat.”

You try not to laugh but it’s impossible. It’s been three days since he started with that horrible cough, which hasn’t stopped, but he still doesn’t understand that he’s probably sick. 

“Max, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that.” You close the book and get up from the couch, he looks confused as you get closer and place your hand on his forehead. “Jesus, Max, you’re burning up!” 

“I’m hot, don’t you think?” 

“Max, I’m serious, you got a fever.” 

“It’s probably nothing,” He reassures you by placing a kiss on your cheek before turning around. “I fell asleep on the terrace. I’m gonna take a shower, okay?” 

“Max, I swear to God—”

“You look hot when you’re angry.” That’s the last thing he says, walking away. 

“Max!” 

#3

It's impossible. You’ve tried everything to make Max understand that he’s sick and needs to rest, but he won’t admit it.

This morning you practically begged him to stay in bed to rest and recover, but he did not listen to you, saying that it was nothing — as he’s been saying all week — and actually dragged you to the Padel court because ‘I’m gonna win this time’. 

Dani’s visiting, so, everyone got together to spend Sunday morning at their favorite place, promising to go to brunch after. But it’s been three hours and they have just finished the second game. Who’s fault is that? Max’s. 

It’s no secret that Max is not very good at Padel, but now that he’s sick it’s been torture. Every couple of minutes they have to stop the game for him to cough, so it’s been impossible to actually play and he doesn’t want to give up. 

And it’s worse because Charles is his partner. Only a look at the Monégasque and you know he wants to murder him. 

“Max,” You call his name, leaving your book aside and walking closer to the wall that’s separating both of you. “you’re sick, why don’t we go home?”

“But, baby, I really think I can win this one.”

“No you won’t!” Lando shouts from across the court as he’s stretching. 

“Oh shut u—”

“Max, I’m serious.” You don’t know what else to do at this point. He’s always been so stubborn, but this has reached new levels. 

“I’m gonna win this for you, baby.” He winks and turns around to join the rest of the group. 

#4

“Max? Why are you still in bed?” You enter the room, gaze immediately going to the watch on the nightstand. It’s two in the afternoon. He never stays in bed past ten, not even during winter or summer break. 

“Jus’ tired.” He mumbles, face hidden in the pillows. 

“I’m gonna make you a cup of tea, okay?” You sit next to him, stroking his hair. 

“Don’t want a cup of tea,” He opens his eyes, looking up at you and pouting. It makes you giggle. “I want you.”

“I won’t kiss you until you admit you’re sick.”

“That’s so unfair!” He pouts again, this time grabbing your arm and trying to make you lie next to him. “I’m not sick. I’m like super healthy.” You snort, shaking your head and standing up. 

“Then, no kisses for you.”

Max groans, hiding his face under the blankets. “I can survive without your kisses, you know.” 

That makes you laugh because you know Max, and you know how much he likes to kiss you at every opportunity. The chances of Max keeping that promise… Impossible.

“Whatever gets you through the night, Maxie.”

#5

“Hey, baby.” Max places a kiss on your cheek as you leave the grocery bags on the kitchen table. “You got everything for tonight?”

“Yes. I already talked with your mom and they’ll be here at around nine.” Max helps you put the groceries away, frowning when he sees some medicine and a special broth he knows perfectly well among the things you will need for dinner tonight.

“What's this?”

You try to hide a smile, pretending to be busy with anything just to keep you from looking at him. “Your mom said you used to love it as a kid.”

“Yeah,” He says, still confused. “when I was sick.”

“You are sick, Max. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you this.”

“I am not!” He huffs, rolling his eyes. You can see from the irritated expression on his face that he's tired of you repeating the same thing over and over again. “I’m gonna go play for a little bit.”

You grab his hand before he can walk away, pulling him closer to you. “Hey,” Max raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to talk. But you cup his cheeks instead, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m worried, I don’t want you to get worse.”

“Yeah, whatever.” 

You can only watch as he leaves the room, Jimmy following closely behind. 

“Well, I tried.” You mumble, looking at Sassy perched on the counter. She meows and you’re glad at least someone understands you.

+1

“Schatje?” You hear Max’s hoarse voice say. 

“Mmh?” It’s your answer, busy peeling some vegetables. “What happens?”

He hesitates for a second, you see from the corner of your eyes how he avoids looking at you, which makes you stop and turn your attention to your boyfriend. 

“I’m sick.” He whispers, surprising you. But he deserves a little teasing. 

“What? I didn’t hear you.” You play dumb, and Max sees right through you. 

“You were right, okay? I was being an idiot.”

“Yes, you were.” He pouts, making you feel warm all over. You walk to him, placing your hand on his forehead. “You have a fever. Why don’t you go lie down on the couch, uh? I’ll heat up the broth.” 

“I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He breathes into the air, blushing all the way from his cheeks to his neck. You know that admitting when he’s wrong is not something easy for him.

“I know, baby. But,” You reach up and boop Max on the nose with your index finger. “I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

“But I wanted to help you, everyone’s about to arrive.” 

“Worry about what your mom will say once I tell her how stubborn you have been.” He sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “If you’re a good boy and take the medicine, I’ll think about giving you a… reward.”

If Max takes the medicine and finishes all the broth is only because he wants to get better. It has nothing to do with the reward you’re going to give him tonight.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #f1 grid x reader

[gyu-effect]

[20:17]

PAIRING || Seungcheol x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Arranged Marriage AU, Fluff (if you squint prolly)

WARNINGS || none except that cheol got what he deserved lol

WORD COUNT || 1.8k

A/N || since all of you asked for pt. 2 of [20:37] here it is! can be read as a stand alone too tho. i hope you all like it!

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk  @y00nzin0  @cecedrake2217  @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star  @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso  @mrswonwooo @chocolate-cookies @hyneyedfiz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @princessjazzyjazz @mnstxmnbb @stervahaha @wonusaurus [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

seungcheol shut the laptop close, groaning as he stretched on his chair. rubbing his eyes, he looked at the small clock on his desk, the tiredness hitting him harder when he saw how late it was. slowly getting up, he made his way to the living room to check on the house one last time before he finally collapsed onto the bed. it was raining heavily outside and the last thing he needed along with his strained marriage was a flooded house due to some half open balcony or window.

but as soon as he stepped into the living room, he felt himself freeze when he realised something was missing. seungcheol looked around the house, wondering what was bothering him-

oh, y/n. 

where were you? 

now that he thought about it, he hadn’t even heard you come into the house in the first place. where were you? quickly walking to the key hook near the dining table, he checked for your key in case you had quietly come in and had already gone to bed.

no keys.

shit. where were you? where could you be? it was raining cats and dogs outside so there was no way you could have gone out, right? besides this time at night wasn’t even safe…

seungcheol felt an odd uncomfortable feeling stir in the pit of his stomach, but he ignored it and instead knocked on your bedroom door.

no response.

even though the lights not being on was a clear sign that you weren’t in your room, a small part of him hoped that you were just asleep.

“y/n?” he asked.

no response again. 

pushing the door open, seungcheol walked in and flicked the lights on. then he pressed his ears against your bathroom door, hoping to hear the sound of running water at least or better still, your voice singing in the shower.

over the past two months he had been living with you, seungcheol had learnt that you were an avid bathroom singer, and nothing could block your vocals, not even the fact that the two of you were in separate bedrooms.

it had always annoyed him, to be honest. he was used to having quieter mornings, where he had a simple breakfast of a boiled egg and coffee, before rushing off to his office. that was until you came into his life, destroying his peace with your early morning shower concerts and the clattering of utensils as you made a proper breakfast.

and you wouldn’t leave him either. always bugging him that eggs and coffee weren’t enough, that it was unhealthy and that he had to eat more, always forcing him to eat ‘at least a bit of’ whatever you had cooked. 

and to make matters worse, you were a great cook. such a good cook that since the last few weeks he would actually wake up hungry, the smell of your cooking wafting into his bedroom to wake him up like an alarm clock.

and he hated it at all. he hated your singing, your cooking, you always checking up on him and you being sweet and caring and nice to him no matter how rude he was. he hated this marriage, he hated how his parents had forced him to this deal, and the only way for him to let out his frustration was by hating on you.

you who was equally stuck like him. you who was at least making some efforts to make this marriage work.

and he had thrown all of that out of the window two days ago.

as silence greeted him back instead of your voice no matter how hard he pressed his ears against the door, seungcheol felt dread rise up his throat.

why was he so childish? why was he so immature? he was so determined to hate you, so determined to block out all your efforts that he had ended up making you cry, he had ended up hurting you.

and even then, he had just told you that you were just tired, as if it was your fault in the first place.

taking in a deep breath, he rushed to the balcony, throwing open the doors with a small hope that you were sitting there, fuming and ignoring him to teach him a lesson.

“oh, y/n-” he stopped himself when he saw it was empty, just filled with water from the rain pouring outside.

panic seized him as he ran back to the house, calling your name like a little child who had lost his mother.

“y/n? y/n!” he yelled, pulling out his phone to call you.

just as he was about to dial your number, seungcheol heard the front door unlock. as he turned towards the door, a completely drenched you stepped in, looking thoroughly tired and exhausted.

in record speed he was by your side, aggressively wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you into a hug. you were so cold, and so wet, that it made him squeeze you even more harder.

“seung- what are you-”

“where were you?” he muttered, feeling his voice quiver as relief flooded him. there were so many things he wanted to ask you, like ask you why you were out so late or if you had dinner yet all he could manage was this simple question.

“first get off me!” you said, trying to push him off, but that just made him tighten his grip on you even more. there was no way he was moving from this spot. “seungcheol, you’ll catch a cold!”

“i don’t care.” he said, feeling the wetness of your clothes seeping into his. you weren’t hugging him back, but he knew he didn’t even deserve it. at least you weren’t pushing him back anymore. “where were you?” he whispered again.

“i was at my office?” you answered dryly, causing him to finally look at you. he frowned at you, not buying your answer even one bit.

“then why are you wet from the rain? where’s your car?”

“my tire got punctured. and because it was late, i wasn’t getting any taxi. so i had to walk back home.”

“why didn’t you call me?” as soon as the question left his lips he felt stupid. he didn’t even have to look at you narrowing your eyes at him to know how dumb his question was. how could he even say that when he was the one who had blocked off all contacts first? 

“well, you know the answer to that. now get out of my way. i’m cold, my head hurts and i need a shower-”

“your head hurts?” he asked, feeling panic seize him again. oh god, oh god, you were sick? if you ended up with a cold or fever it would all be his fault. “wait, let me prepare you hot water-”

“you don’t have to do anything.” you said with a smile, though he wasn’t sure if you were sarcastic or not. you were so sweet that he had a hard time now understanding when you were truly mad at him. you shrugged off your coat and was about to walk off with it but he grabbed it from you, causing you to look at him in surprise.

“i’ll, uh, put it in the washing machine.” he said meekly. you blinked at him before slowly nodding and then walking back to your bedroom. 

“did you have dinner?” he asked once again, just as you were about to step into the bathroom. this time, he saw your hand clench on the doorknob, as you turned to him to give him a glare. 

“doesn’t matter.”

“no, it does. you’re having a headache and i-”

“i said,” you snapped, “it doesn’t matter. just put that coat to the washing machine and go back to sleep. you don’t need to care about me, seungcheol-”

“cheol.” he stopped you, his voice strained. he could finally feel how horrible he was with you and a small part of him was breaking thinking of how he had managed to say those things to you.

that caught you off guard. “what?” you asked, unsure about what he was referring to.

slowly, he walked over to you and when he was right in front of you, he fell to his knees.

“what are-” you began as your hands automatically moved to lift him up but he caught them in his instead, looking up to meet your angry eyes with his tearful ones. 

“cheol.” he repeated again. “that’s what you used to call me since the day we met.” he gave your hand a little squeeze as your mouth fell slightly open, drinking in your expression.

god, you were beautiful.

how had he not noticed it? he had always known you were pretty but right now as he looked up at you, he realised you were beautiful.

how blind was he to never notice it? how cruel was he to walk over your kindness? and how damned would he be to treat you this way when you clearly deserved so much more better things?

maybe it was the thought of losing you for a few seconds that had finally opened his eyes. 

“i’m so sorry.” he began in a whisper as you continued staring back at him. tears pricked his eyes but he didn’t even bother blinking them away. “i’m so, so sorry y/n. i know i don’t deserve you or your forgiveness but i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry for being this selfish and blaming everything on you. i’m so sorry for making you feel this way when you deserve the world. i’m so sorry you ended up with a jerk like me-”

“seungcheol. cheol.” you cut him off, freeing one of your hands as you gently cupped his cheek. he found himself leaning into your touch, which was warm despite that your entire body was still cold. he felt your thumb brush against his cheek, wiping off a tear as he closed his eyes.

he truly didn’t deserve an angel like you.

“you hurt me, you know.” he heard you say and he opened his eyes to look back at you. you looked so pained right now that he could almost hear his own heart shatter. “i- i tried so hard, and you just-”

“i’m sorry.” he whispered, bringing your hand wrapped in his to his lips. gently brushing them against your skin, he continued. “i- i promise. i’ll work equally hard and make this work. i’ll make sure that this works.”

you sniffled slightly as you smiled back at him softly. 

“thank you.” you whispered and he nodded. “thank you so much. it means a lot to me.”

“now go have a shower quickly.” he said, letting your hand go finally. “or else you’ll catch a cold. and by that time i’ll order pork tonkatsu and some other stuff from your favourite restaurant. is that okay?” 

you looked at him in surprise.

“how do you know i like pork tonkatsu from that place?”

“you know we share the same wifi right?”

“oh, so you’re those kind of guys who secretly observes and then takes care, huh?” you joked, to which he found himself rolling his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, sure. i’ll be whatever type of guy you want me to be, baby.”

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ [𝟐𝟎:𝟏𝟕] #caratlibrary #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups fluff #scoups angst #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol angst #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst

[katyswrites]

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 3 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol use, recreational weed use, descriptions of puking/hangovers, no use of y/n, not quite smut but we're getting close folks

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 3

You don’t see Steve for nearly a week after that - you hang around the radio station quite a bit, as you usually do, but never manage to run into him. You should be thankful for that - for how peaceful it is. It’s not even like you want to see him - no, why would you? He’s a pain in your ass, and you should be thankful that you can do your job in peace. 

No, it’s not actually at the station that you see him next - though, it’s tangentially related. You’re at perhaps your second-favorite place in the world - Varsity Vinyl, the local record shop downtown. It has some of the best selection you’d seen, and you always find yourself there - buying for your own growing record collection, or rooting through the used and discounted bin to help stock the station’s vinyl library. It’s where you find yourself on a Saturday afternoon, flipping through records while figuring how much money you actually realistically are able to spend.

You don’t see him, not at first. He’s standing further down the aisle, and when you finally look up and spot him, you nearly jump - he’s just staring at you, eyes wide. You straighten up, just holding eye contact - you feel like two wild animals sizing each other up, deciding whether to run or fight. You’re truly deciding between those two options when he clears his throat.

“Oh - uh, hey,” he says, quieter than you had expected.

“Hey.”

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, a beat of silence passing between you. Then, you both find yourselves speaking at once:

“Your party was fun the other night -”

“Are you okay -”

You both pause, and you awkwardly laugh.

“Sorry, uh - the party was fun last weekend. Thanks,” you say quietly.

Steve shrugs.

“Oh, yeah - glad you came. You… you seemed like you were having a good time.”

Like I made an absolute fool of yourself, more like, you think to yourself.

“Oh! I mean - I guess. Sorry if I got a little - uh -”

“It’s fine, don’t worry - we’ve had worse,” Steve assures.

He hasn’t said anything about bringing you home. Part of you is convinced that Eddie was misinformed, and Steve didn’t actually bring you home that night - that is, if it wasn’t for that stupid note. The note you probably should have thrown out, but stuck into a desk drawer instead - to refer to later, just to make sure you weren’t crazy, you had reasoned.

But now, Steve is standing in front of you, more quiet and withdrawn than you’ve ever seen in the past four years of knowing him.

“So, uh - thanks,” you say quickly, almost mumbling.

“For what?” he asks, confused.

“For, um, getting me home safe - I don’t really remember it, but -”

He waves you off. “Oh, that - don’t worry about it. The hardest part was getting you to tell me your address,” he says, laughing. “You were wasted.”

You groan. “That’s…embarrassing.”

He smirks. “Honestly, yeah, a little bit. But most people were gone by then, so… your secret’s safe with me.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“I mean - I’m surprised you didn’t tell everybody - how I was, you know, throwing up all over your apartment, being a drunk idiot -”

Why didn’t he? It’s leverage - a way to make people lose respect for you, and gain more for him. A part of this stupid, pointless power battle you two seem to always be involved in, seeing how far you can push one another. His response is unexpected.

“You don’t actually think that little of me, do you?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

He scoffs. “Look, it’s not my fault that you can’t hold your alcohol for shit. But, I’m not going to go around telling everyone that, okay? Christ -”

He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re welcome, though.”

You suddenly feel like a bit of an asshole - Steve is used to you throwing insults his way, but this time, it seems to have struck a chord with him.

“I was in a really bad way, wasn’t I?” you ask quietly, avoiding eye contact.

He nods. “Honestly? Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. You really don’t remember?”

You shake your head, face feeling flushed with embarrassment. He just sighs.

“What do you remember?”

You rack your brain for a moment, biting your lip absentmindedly as you think.

“Um - I remember playing Kings with everyone… and, uh…”

I remember you coming in from the porch with what’s-her-face on your arm -

“-and it gets fuzzy after that,” you say quickly.

“Oh, okay - wow, that’s pretty early on. Well, you did some shots with Eddie and Robin - you got on the kitchen table at one point ... I think you threw up over my balcony… and after that I, uh, hung out with you in the bathroom while you threw up some more, and brought you home.”

You freeze. “Wait - you babysat me, like, the whole time? I thought that was Eddie -”

“No way, Eddie was too high to help anyone. I was stone-cold sober by that point, thanks to you.”

“Oh,” you say, wishing you could sink into the floor. Steve fucking Harrington knew what you looked like keeled over a toilet and puking your guts out… dammit.

“It was pretty gnarly, but… it’s fine. Really, it’s okay.”

For maybe the first time in his life, it sounds like Steve is being sincere with you. Another beat of silence passes, then he’s clearing his throat again.

“So… you have any big plans tonight? A repeat of last weekend, maybe?” he asks casually. You furrow your brow, confused.

“Um - do you actually care?”

He shrugs. “So what if I do?”

“Well - no, after last weekend I’m not sure if I ever want to drink again -”

“The most famous lie ever told,” he cuts in, grinning. You just roll your eyes, and pretend to be interested in perusing the records as you return to flipping through the crates.

“-but it just so happens that I do have plans tonight,” you say quietly.

“Hot date?”

You scoff. “I’m going to Fuze Box. Nancy’s covering some bands for an article for the campus paper, and I figured I’d check out who's playing tonight.”

WAMC has a long-standing relationship with Fuze Box, a small music venue for local artists and college bands. A lot of students and station members play there, and shows at the Box get advertised a lot on the air. You try to go to local gigs as much as you can - though, you haven’t made as much of an effort lately, too overwhelmed by other responsibilities as station manager. Nancy’s article is a good excuse to go, for the first time all semester.

“So, you don’t know any of the bands playing tonight?” he asks, leaning against a shelf and crossing his arms.

You shake your head. “Nope - just figured I’d check it out, go in blind. Maybe I’ll even put some of the bands in my radio slot next week, if they’re selling CDs or something.”

Steve grins mischievously.

“Right - well, have fun, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname, and know that any semblance of an awkward peace between you two is gone - the Steve you know and love (to hate) is back. You turn to make a clever retort, but he’s gone, having stalked off to a different aisle.

You’re not sure what he’s up to, but part of you now has a sneaking suspicion that he might show up at the venue tonight just to piss you off - it’s such a Steve move.

As you go to the checkout, you do your best to shake it - after all, what’s the worst that can happen?

*****

“Thank you - we’ve been Lime of Decision - goodnight!” the lead singer shouts, a collection of hollers and applause following. The lights go up a bit, some venue staff coming out to the stage to adjust the equipment for the next band.

“Lime Of Decision is… a choice,” Nancy says, scribbling something into her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s because their name is literally meant to be a joke,” you say absentmindedly.

“What?”

“Jason, the lead singer? His ex-girlfriend is in a band called Lemon Of Choice, so it’s like…funny. I think.”

Nancy chuckles, shaking her head.

“Which band is better?”

“Definitely hers,” you say immediately.

You and Nancy both stare at each other for a moment, and break into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” she asks.

You shake your head, holding up the cup of beer you’re still nursing from the beginning of the last band’s set.

She disappears into the crowd, and you sigh, taking a drink as you once again survey the room. If Steve actually is here, you haven’t spotted him yet - maybe he decided that getting on your nerves wasn’t worth actually paying the cover at the door. Or, maybe he actually had more important plans - maybe even with that girl he was all cozy with at the party -

You stop yourself - why do you care? If anything, it should be a good thing that he doesn’t seem to be here. 

There’s two more bands left to go - you had glanced at the flier on the way in, but only recognized Lime Of Decision in the lineup. So, when Nancy returns with a new drink and the lights begin to dim again, you just hope the next band is better - it can really be hit or miss at these sorts of shows.

Darius, the radio station’s tech engineer, is emceeing the show. He steps out on stage to introduce the next band, earning a smattering of cheers and hollers thrown in his direction.

“Alright, alright everyone! Settle down - that includes you, Hagan - Jesus Christ, okay - can we give it up for the amazing bands we’ve heard so far tonight?”

You clap along with the rest of the crowd, rolling our eyes at the sound of particularly rowdy hollers from the back that you just know comes from Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin.

Darius’ eyes narrow.

“Dammit, Munson - when I said a month-long ban, I meant it -”

You glance back to see Eddie flipping Darius off - famously, Corroded Coffin got a temporary suspension from Fuze Box for smoking weed in the green room. But, the ban actually being enforced… not likely.

Darius rolls his eyes, struggling to get the room back on track as he taps the microphone.

“Okay, okay - everyone, can we please - if you all can shut the fuck up - okay, whatever. The next band up tonight - you guys know and love. They’re a Fuze Box favorite - and no, they are not promising anything with the name. Give it up for Free Beer!

You can’t help but laugh at the band’s name - you instinctively turn to Nancy, who is doing her best to stifle a giggle as she writes something on her notepad, squinting in the dark.

It’s during those few seconds while you’re looking away that the band takes the stage - which is why, when you glance back, you freeze as you see who’s standing front-and-center.

Steve stands at the mic stand, an electric guitar slung over his shoulders as he smiles at the crowd.

You freeze. Other band members - including Robin and Argyle, who you know all too well from the radio station - come out onto the stage behind him. But you’re just staring at Steve, dumbfounded.

You knew he had a band - scheduling them to perform on the air was always a nightmare for you, which you knew Steve did on purpose. So, you had never learned anything about them on-principle. You hadn’t heard a lick of music, didn’t know who else was in it, or even the goddamn name - until right now.

Nancy’s eyes are on you, you can feel it. You turn briefly to look at her.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks, glancing at where Steve stands on stage. You shake your head.

“God, no! I - I’m an adult, I can be in the same room as Harrington,” you say, laughing nervously. You’re not sure how much you believe yourself. She stares at you for a moment, then just nods, turning her attention back to the stage, where Steve is stepping up to the mic.

“Hey guys - we’re Free Beer. I’m Steve -”

A few feminine voices cheer from the back. Your eyes roll so far to the back of your head that you’re worried you’ll go blind.

“Thanks, ladies, love the enthusiasm. So - let’s just get into it. Ready to hear some songs?”

There’s an eruption of cheers through the audience - one of the biggest reactions of the night so far.

“Alright - this one is called ‘Closer,’ I hope you enjoy.”

From the moment he plays the first chord, something shifts in the room. The crowd becomes less rowdy, less chatty. No - everyone is really listening. Some are even singing along - how the fuck do this many people know the words? 

You want to hate it - you want the set to be something you’re tolerating, something that makes you look forward to the next band coming out. But, despite your efforts, that’s not what happens. Because the band is good. Robin is killer on bass, and Argyle is a formidable drummer, despite his perpetually laid-back persona. And Steve - it’s like he was born to do this.

Aside from having a pretty good voice, and being an excellent guitarist, he’s actually a good frontman. He’s charismatic, knows how to work the crowd, and somehow, he makes the tiny stage of the Fuze Box feel as exciting as Live Aid. 

You want to scream - of course he’s good. You catch yourself moving along to the music every now and then, and immediately stop yourself, hoping nobody sees. At one point, you swear Steve sees you. His eyes land on yours - or, at least, in your direction. You think you imagine it - it’s a big enough crowd, and you’re far enough back that he probably can’t see past the first few rows. That is, until he smirks, in the way that you know he reserves only to taunt you, to challenge you.

Fuck.

*****

You find yourself heading down the hallway after Steve’s set - you’re looking for the bathroom, shouldering through the bodies packed into the narrow passage. Part of it is because your beer has finally gone through you, and more so because you need a minute of peace and quiet, just to stare at yourself in the mirror and talk some sense into yourself. Steve’s band can’t be good - that would be a problem. If you didn’t know who was part of it, they’re the kind of band you would buy records for, keep a spare CD in your car, and even include as part of your radio show. But…it's Steve.

You had purposely never gone to any of his shows - you never listened to any in-studio sessions they did at the station, and God knows you would never ask Steve about his music. What the fuck?

Part of you also wants to smack him - of course he was performing here tonight - he looked you in the eye at the record store today, heard you were coming here tonight, and said nothing. Next time you see him, you decide, you’ll ignore him - you won’t even acknowledge that you saw him perform. If he asks, you’ll tell him you left the show early, long before he came on stage. You won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking you sat through his whole set, let alone enjoyed it.

You can’t exactly remember where the bathroom is - was it all the way at the end of the hallway? None of the doors are really labeled, which tracks for Fuze Box.

You knock on a few doors and jiggle the handles - one is an electrical closet, the other is locked and seemingly empty. You finally reach a door at the end, and give it a gentle knock - nobody responds. You try the knob, and it gives way. After shouldering your way inside, you wish you hadn’t.

Apparently, instead of the bathroom, you’ve managed to find the green room - although, to call the backstage area of the Fuze Box a green room is generous. It’s really a tiny room with a worn out couch, a cracked glass coffee table littered with ashtrays, and lighting so dim that you have to squint to figure out exactly where you are as you slip through the door.

It’s only once you’re inside, when it’s too late, that you realize you’ve walked in on Steve.

His back is turned to you, but he jumps slightly and turns when he hears the door open. He’s wiping his brow with a towel, and he grins when he sees you.

“Hey, sweetheart - wasn’t expecting to see you back here.”

You stand in the doorway awkwardly - why couldn’t the rest of his band be hanging out here with him? That way, you could throw out a blanket ‘you guys were great’ statement. But now it’s just him, staring at you, his face saying why the fuck are you here?

“Oh - sorry - I’m in the wrong room,” you say quickly, your face feeling hot as you start to back away.

“Okay - sure you are,” Steve says sarcastically.

“What does that mean?” you ask, stopping your retreat.

He shrugs. “Don’t know - you just seem to always conveniently stumble into me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Try to stop me.”

There’s a moment of silence, and you just groan with frustration, taking a few steps towards him.

“Jesus, I - I don’t know if it’s like, a weird sick game to you, or you’re just always trying to piss me off - or if you just can’t help and flirt with everyone -”

“You think I’m flirting with you?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

You stop, folding your arms in indignation.

“No - I mean, kind of, but probably as a joke - I know what you’re up to, Harrington.”

“And what exactly am I up to?”

“This bullshit you keep pulling,” you say, gesturing between you two. “This - like, always sabotaging my shit, and getting in my way - but then like, this stupid nice-guy thing, where you drive me home when I’m drunk and don’t tell anyone, but then like you trick me into watching your stupid band perform -”

He scoffs. “Trick you? Be serious -”

“You knew I’d be here tonight - you knew, and didn’t say anything -”

“Well given your track record, sweetheart, if you had known I’d be playing, I’m sure you would’ve been front row!”

You stop mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as you try to search inwardly for a reply. Your face feels hot all of a sudden.

He’s smirking now, just like he did on stage. As always, he’s too confident, too sarcastic, too Steve. He’s taken away your ability to even come up with a halfway decent retort. It pisses you off.

“I - that’s not -”

Your blood is rushing to your head, roaring in your ears, too enraged to even let you think straight anymore. You’re marching right up to him now, prodding his chest with your finger.

“I don’t like you,” you say. 

“You don’t say?” he drawls, still smiling. Why is he smiling?

“Stop doing that -”

“Doing what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“Stop distracting me -”

“I distract you?”

You want to kick yourself.

“I - well - only because you’re so -”

“Devilishly handsome?”

“-fucking annoying.”

He cocks his head, like you’ve only mildly piqued his curiosity instead of insulted him.

You sigh. “What?”

“It’s just - you didn’t seem to find me very annoying last weekend when you tried to kiss me.”

A beat. You just stand there, jaw agape as his words hang in the air between you like smoke on a hazy summer’s day.

“That’s not funny,” you manage to say.

“Does it look like I’m laughing?”

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are to him - the next band has started outside, a distant din that should be distracting. But all you can focus on is Steve - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the way you’re close enough to smell that he had just had a cigarette.

“I didn’t -”

“Sweetheart - right before you puked your guts up in my bathroom, you tried to stick your tongue down my throat. Don’t worry - I didn’t let you. I really thought you would’ve remembered, until I saw you in the record store - then I realized you didn’t remember jack shit.”

You feel like you’re making this up. He’s just saying this to get under your skin - he must be. It’s the only explanation. Because you’d never - 

“You’re lying.”

But he’s just staring at you, and you’re starting to get the sickening suspicion that this isn’t a joke.

“You’re lying,” you repeat, though it sounds more like a question this time.

He’s taking another step towards you, shaking his head.

“You know what they say, sweetheart - in vino vesco, or whatever. You know - how people say and do what they’re really thinking when they’re drunk -”

“Veritas.”

He stops, furrowing his brow.

“I - what?”

You can’t help yourself - you just can’t.

“The phrase is in vino veritas - it means truth. I think vesco means food or something, you’re missing the whole  -”

“Shut up,” he says. “You’re always such a -”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you’re kissing him. You don’t mean to do it, you swear - but he had gotten so close, the heat radiating off of him too much to ignore. And, he was really pissing you off - you didn’t need to hear another word out of his mouth.

You fist your hands in his t-shirt, your lips on his, messy and desperate, like you’re trying to prove a point. And he’s kissing you back.

Steve kisses the same way he argues - he’s aggressive, his hands coming up to grab your face and pull you closer. He tastes like cigarettes and cheap beer, his aura hot and desperate as it envelops you. 

The band plays out in the venue, the audience cheering and singing along - but, all you can hear is Steve’s labored breath against your lips, your own heart thudding in your chest.

The kiss was all teeth and tongue, another argument you were both desperate to win. But, right now, you’re losing. Because he’s guiding your body, and you’re responding, stepping backwards until your back is hitting the cinderblock wall.

No words are spoken, just breathy moans and the sounds of your lips moving in unison. It’s not remotely romantic - it feels more like fuck you, I’m trying so hard to hate you, why can’t you let me -

One of his hands has traveled down to your waist, gripping it firmly enough to tell you that he wanted more. You feel his hand start to move, slipping under the hem of your shirt and gently brushing the warm skin of your lower back. His hands are calloused, rough against the softness of your skin. You let him start to explore, unable to stop yourself from quietly moaning against his lips. 

You know you should stop - but you can’t. It’s addicting, the way he’s still fighting with you as his tongue enters your mouth. Is this really happening? Maybe this could’ve gone on for hours. That is, until -

The knock on the door makes you both jump, pulling apart as quickly as you had crashed together. Steve is staring at you, breathing heavily, his pupils blown and lips a bit swollen. You imagine you look similarly. He takes a step back, separately himself from where you’re still frozen against the wall.

“Yeah?” Steve calls, voice rougher than before.

“Are you decent?” a voice asks from the other side of the door, barely audible over the sound of the band currently on stage.

Steve looks like he’s fighting laughter, but he just shakes his head, back facing the doorway.

“Nope - you’re good,” he says, his eyes meeting yours again.

He doesn’t need to say it - the look he’s shooting your way is enough.

Not a word.

Robin enters, grinning.

“Hey, we were just going to - oh, hi.”

She’s spotted you, and you just know she has questions.

“Hey, Robin,” you say quietly. “I, uh - I was looking for the bathroom. Ended up in here - I was just telling Steve how much I liked your set.”

Robin beams. “Thanks! It’s fun to see that you came out - haven’t seen you at a gig in a while!”

You nod. “Oh, yeah - I’ve been trying to get myself out there more -”

Steve scoffs, and you want to slap him. If Robin notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“- but, um - I should go.”

Robin nods. 

“Yeah - I was just coming to find Steve, we’re all going to head to WT’s for a drink - uh, do you want to come?”

She’s probably just being polite. But, you shake your head vigorously.

“No, I’m good - sounds like it’s a band thing. I should get going anyway - I’ll catch the end of this set,” you say, gesturing towards the sound of the band on stage echoing from down the hall. You still haven’t made eye contact with Steve, not since Robin entered the room. So, you just give her a curt nod, and do everything in your power to head out the door without looking like you’re bolting.  You’re screwed.

author's note: thanks for your patience y'all! I'm going away to Ireland on a work trip for about 3 weeks starting tomorrow, so I'm hoping to do some writing while I'm there, but no promises! As always, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #enemies to lovers #90s au #put on your records fic #steve harrington/reader angst #steve harrington/reader fluff #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Great! Can you please write an older Eddie with female reader, like maybe 25-26? And by now Eddie is a famous rock star, but he adores you, avoids groupies altogether. But when you and him go back to Hawkins to play at the Hideout just for fun Chrissy (or some other cheerleader) make moves on him, telling reader (maybe in the bathroom) "he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running).

But then maybe Eddie proposes to reader on stage? :) request by @somethingvicked 💞

Angst to fluff, this is an 18+ blog so mdni.

❤️

Eddie made it big after he left Hawkins. A few years after he finally graduated and went to Chicago with the rest of Corroded Coffin, they were notified by a bigwig music producer who thought they had a real shot at being successful.

They grafted for another few years after that and after a lot of hard work, they began to get noticed. Did more gigs, got lots of exposure and recorded their first successful album.

Four albums, and four tours (one world tour) later, Eddie couldn't believe that his dreams of being a rockstar had come true.

Even with his dreams coming true, the most amazing thing to happen to him in the last few years was meeting you.

He ran into you after being chased by a handful of his fans (seeking shelter in a bookstore that you owned) that the two of you got closer and began to date.

You were younger than Eddie (26 to Eddie's 38) he was worried when you first began dating at the media attention the two of you would get. Anyone he got close to was the subject of scrutiny but you got it worse.

Eddie protected you as much as he could, put out statements in anger when the vitirol had you in tears and stressed to the max. He loved you so much and would do anything to protect you from hate.

Groupies tried and failed to catch his attention, he was a one woman man and all he wanted was you. Most of the time he loved getting you to join him on tour, but it depended on your job. When you weren't with him, he missed you like crazy.

Now he was going to Hawkins for one a one off concert at The Hideout. He couldn't wait to see his uncle and his friends. You and Eddie could catch up with everyone.

Most importantly though he was planning something very special for you and he wanted to do it surrounded with friends and family.

It would be cool to perform here in Hawkins after all this time. He couldn't wait to get the gig started.

❤️

Watching Corroded Coffin perform at the place they started out is an amazing experience, Eddie and the guys look like they are having so much fun and fans have travelled from different cities to watch the band.

You chat to Steve and the rest of the gang and feel so proud as you watch Eddie. He was in his element and looked so sexy as he shredded on his guitar, desire pools in your stomach. You couldn't wait to get him alone later.

He catches your eye, notices the way you're looking at him, winks and blows you a kiss.

The crowd is electric even once the gig finishes, everyone is cheering and going wild. Eddie jumps off the stage, walks over to you and kisses you, you feel your cheeks warm. He presses a kiss to your head then begins to interact with the crowd.

As soon as Eddie begins to mingle with the rest of the people in the Hideout, it wasn't long before a pretty blonde makes herself known.

You don't notice her at first as you're too busy catching up with the rest of the gang, then you wonder where Eddie has got to and after a quick look around the room, you find him.

He's with the blonde, she's heavily flirting. Touching his arm, giggling and playing with her hair, she's actually batting her eyes at him. You're used to groupies throwing themselves at Eddie but it still makes you feel a little shitty when you have to witness it.

Eddie looks uncomfortable when she ramps up the flirting and he makes a hasty retreat not quick enough though as she is practically purring at him to come back soon. Steve tells you she's called Chrissy.

Fuming at her blatant disregard for Eddie's feelings you follow her as she heads to the bathroom, She looks at you like you're dirt on her shoe, when you approach her.

"Yes?" you roll your eyes at the bitchy antics, fuck what was this high school? Memories from Hawkins High flood back and it makes you even more pissed. Who did this woman think she was?

"Hi, I'd appreciate it if you backed off from Eddie, your flirting was making him uncomfortable" you try to keep your cool, however the smug smile on her face is needling at you.

She snorts, flips her hair over her shoulder and moves closer to you.

"Oh please, sweetie he was in love with me all through high school - I just have to move my pinky and he'll come running" Chrissy smirks and you feel your stomach bottom out. Was this true?

Was she right? Would you lose Eddie to some old high school crush? Chrissy turns away from you and reapplies her lipstick which is cherry red, you leave the bathroom with the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

Chrissy looks triumphant as she comes out, you feel like you can't breathe and stirrings of panic and anxiety begin to take over you.

She turns to her friends and looks so smug. "Guaranteed he'll dump her, when I show even a hint of interest. He could do so much better"

Gareth is close to all of you, chatting to his girlfriend when he hears the comment Chrissy made.

The look on your face tugs at his heart. Eddie was so in love with you, no Chrissy Cunningham's were going to change that. Still, he doesn't like how Chrissy is speaking to you (Eddie won't either) and he excuses himself from Alicia for a moment to inform Eddie what's going on.

Eddie glares over at Chrissy, who preens at his attention. "In love with her in high school? Is she for fucking real? I was in love with about half the class at one point? She's not special" Eddie snorts.

As for dumping you for Chrissy? That he could do better than you? As if. She was deluded if she thought that. He'd tell her that if he had to. You were the best thing that ever happened to him.

Gareth looks amused and discreetly slips Eddie his surprise for you. "Good luck man" Eddie nods, nerves crawling through his veins.

Fuck after all the planning this was it. He heads up on stage, takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "Hi, can I have everyone's attention please"

You notice that Eddie is up on the stage and wonder what he's doing. What aren't the rest of the band with him? To your surprise he calls on you to join him.

"I wanted to do this here, surrounded by my family and friends, I've been planning a surprise and I hope you like it sweetheart" you feel yourself grow flustered but very very happy.

What was he planning? There's this part of you that thinks he may be going to propose, the thought of him doing it nearly brings tears to your eyes but you will them away. It could be anything, you mustn't get your hopes up too much.

You'd love to marry Eddie, spend the rest of your life with him, but Eddie had taken a long time to come around to the idea of marriage, would he want that now?

He takes your hand and kisses it tenderly, pulls off one of his rings and places it on your ring finger, your heart begins to race as you realise the dream you have, may be coming true.

"Eddie?" you can barely get the words out and his eyes are all big and shiny as he gazes at you with pure love in his expression.

"I love you so much princess, you're all I'll ever want and need. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" He gets down on one knee and smiles, reaches in his pocket and pulls out a velvet red box, inside is the most beautiful ring you've ever seen.

You're sobbing freely now, elated and throw your arms around Eddie. "Yes!"

The crowd erupted in cheers and you see the smug smile wiped off Chrissy's face. Eddie places the ring on your finger and kisses you, tenderly cupping your face in his hands.

Chrissy scoffs and leaves, throwing you and Eddie a bitchy look as she does. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Charming huh?" You stifle a giggle and he softens.

"Hey, Gareth told me what Chrissy said sweetheart. Fuck, she was a stupid crush in high school that vanished quickly because she's a complete bitch. You never have to worry about that" you smile and cuddle into him.

You kiss him again and look at the beautiful ring on your finger, you can't wait for you and Eddie to start your new adventure.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #older eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson

[scekrex]

I’ve had this idea for a while and I like your writing so I figured Id ask you! If you don’t like it, please feel free to ignore!! Can we get Lucifer’s reaction to sinner!Adam being with someone who seems to genuinely love and care for him. I always kinda saw Lilith and Eve as people who wasn’t into the idea of being with Adam in a serious manner (Lilith a lot more than Eve) which is why they turned to Lucifer.

I just find the idea of Lucifer seeing someone genuinely care for Adam more than any of Adam’s past lovers really fun. Like, would he be low-key jealous? Would he be happy for Adam (as much as he definitely would not admit it)

I also would find it funny of what Lucifer would think to Adam dating a guy. The first man, progenitor of humanity, Mr. everyone came from these nuts himself, discovering he’s bi waaaay too late into his after-life, and after he becomes a SINNER no less! I can’t help but chuckle about it

Have a nice rest of your day!! ❤️❤️

Okay so this turned into some Adam x male!reader n Lucifer being jealous over reader. Basically one-sided adamsapple. Hope you enjoy, xoxo/p

Part 2

Maybe you can call me Eve, standing here under the forbidden tree

pairing: one-sided adamsapple/Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

It was a little weird, that the devil had to admit, it was a little weird to see Adam so happy, so relaxed, so lovingly. Ever since the former angel had arrived in hell after Alastor's little demon girl friend had ended him he had been even worse than before. He had constantly insulted the residents of the hotel, whenever there had been the possibility to pick a fight with Charlie, Adam had done exactly that.

And it made Lucifer feel strange.

Adam was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him - chest to chest - his guitar was gently placed on your back as he played for you. Has Adam ever played for anyone but himself? Lucifer certainly didn't think so. Sure, he had played concerts in heaven, but he had mainly played for himself, for his own entertainment, so that people listened to him had just been a nice bonus. But actively played for someone? No.

And your curious, loving eyes were watching his every move, an adoring smile was on your lips and Lucifer's heart felt heavy at the view. The thought was small but it bloomed in him, the thought that this could have been him, that he could be the one laying on Adam's chest while the first man played for Lucifer instead of a random sinner. It wasn't fair, but Lucifer had already known that. Life - or afterlife - never played fair. Never.

“Dad?” Charlie's soft voice made him tear his eyes from the scene, her hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Are you-” she interrupted herself as soon as she spotted you and Adam and a small sigh escaped her.

Adam played the last chord and then proudly looked down on you, a cocky smile on his lips as you placed a small kiss on his stubbled chin. One of your hands moved to ruffle through his hair and Lucifer suddenly remembered Eden, back when it had been just Adam. Just him and Adam. Those times were long gone though, and the devil knew it, he knew that what they had back then would never return, especially now that Adam had you.

He was thankful that Adam had finally found someone, that he wasn't feeling as miserable anymore and that he actually seemed to try and redeem himself. And yet Lucifer couldn't bring himself to be happy for the first man, not when the person laying on his chest was you instead of him.

The fact that Adam was dating a guy didn't make it easier to deal with though. If you were a girl it would be different for Lucifer, that way he could trick his brain into believing that Adam was straight, that he had no chance anyway. But you weren't a girl and Adam wasn't straight. The possibility had been there, the possibility had been right in his damn hands back in Eden. The bond he and Adam had back then had been special, it had been a connection Lucifer had never felt again in that way. Yet Adam had always denied being queer once his soul arrived in heaven. The image of him kissing your forehead so softly however shed new light on it, Adam didn't deny being bi anymore, he had grown comfortable with it actually. The credit for that went to Angel Dust.

Why you? Why not him? That's a thought that constantly occupied Lucifer's mind. What did you have that he hadn't? The devil didn't know.

Charlie's hand squeezed his shoulder apologetic, she knew. Of course she knew, Lucifer had told her himself after all. He had told her about Eden, back when Adam had been the sweetest creation of God's, right after ducks, that was. A thing Adam had named. Adam had named most of the things, if Lucifer was being honest with himself, it had been his job after all. But when Adam had named ducks, Lucifer had been there, he had been with Adam when the first man had spotted a duck for the first time.

Oh how bittersweet that tasted now.

You looked over, spotting the devil and his daughter as you happily waved them over, Adam simply rolled his eyes in annoyance but remained quiet.

Lucifer tensed up, Charlie however led him over to the two of you.

Oh fuck him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[project-sekai-facts]

How are we feeling about ensekai’s emu3 translation!!! (I’m mad)

(if you remember the 3 whole posts i made when asahi got de-gayed on EN you'll know i am mad too and that this is probably going to get long)

i don't like to be too cynical but it was so obvious that they were going to change that line, i had a feeling since the event first released on JP and after the incident with Asahi where I went through and tracked down multiple other examples of EN removing queer subtext it became clear to me that in no way shape or form was "emu-chan really loves nene-chan" making it to EN without getting changed. what i didn't expect was them changing Nene's line after Luka's comment, which actually makes this whole situation far worse than many of their other instances of toning down queer subtext.

for anyone who isn't aware of what happened, in chapter 5 of the current Emu event, there's a scene where Nene, Rui and the Virtual Singers are talking about what would cheer Emu up. The vsingers all talk about how much Emu loves spending time with Nene, leading to the following exchange

If you look for them, any fan TL of this scene will be something similar to this:

Luka: ...Fufu. Emu-chan really loves Nene-chan, doesn't she? Nene: Th-that's nothing special...

EN's official translation is this:

So what's the issue? I'll start with Luka's part. In the original text, she uses the word daisuki, which can mean to "like a lot" or "love". It's a word you will see frequently in the idol/idol-adjacent genre of games, due to its ambiguity in that it can be read as either platonic or romantic when used towards a person, and often will be used in ambiguous situations so that it's harder to confirm the writers' intentions either way. so here, fans of the emu/nene ship could view the fact that emu loves spending her time with nene as more on the romantic side, but people who don't like the ship could view it as platonic and move on.

while they didn't translate daisuki directly, Luka's line still works, and still contains the ambiguity that works as ship tease in the original text. it's a perfectly fine localisation that still conveys the original intent. despite that, there is something to be said about EN's consistent refusal to translate daisuki as love in most instances when it's not used on An/Kohane (but then again, EN has literally teased An/Kohane on their twitter account so is it all that surprising?).

Here's some examples:

Aibou no koto ga daisuki de / he loves his partner -> he cares about his partner very much (The Power of Unity chapter 7 when Kaito is comparing Arata to Akito and Toya)

HARUKA-CHAN, DAISUKI DAYOOOO!!! / HARUKA-CHAN, I LOOOOOVEEE YOU!!! -> You're the best!!! (Dear Me, As I Was Back Then chapter 4 when minori is at an ASRUN concert. this one isn't actually that great of a localisation)

Honachan no koto daisuki dakara. Kore de iinda yo. / I love Honachan, so this is fine. -> I want what's best for her. And this is it. (Leo/need main story chapter 14 after Saki tells Honami she won't bother her anymore)

Minna daisuki de - taisetsuna tomodachi na no / I love them all - they're my dearest friends -> They're all amazing, and very dear to me. (Leo/need main story chapter 17. this isn't good either)

What's particularly amusing about that last one is that there's a second official translation for it that I assume was done by JP staff (since EN never promoted doing the Journey to Bloom subs like they did back when they provided subs for Petit SEKAI) that actually keeps the word daisuki as love.

Yeah. I love all my friends - and they mean the world to me.

It's a better localisation than the official EN team one.

Questionable localisation choices aside, Luka's line is fine and is actually in line with the original. The issue with this localisation very much lies with Nene's part, because that is an entirely new line.

In the original text, Nene's "that's just normal" or "that's nothing special" or however you choose to TL it, is meant to be her questioning Luka's statement, since all the things that the other vsingers said that Emu liked were pretty normal things like going shopping and playing video games with nene. To Nene, these things are normal activities for them to do together, so she gets embarrassed by the fact that Luka concludes from that information that Emu loves Nene. When I dissect it like that I think you can really tell what the writers were going for here lol.

"That's just us being friends" does still convey the idea that Nene thinks these activities aren't anything out of the ordinary and she isn't sure why the vsingers are picking these out as some of Emu's favorite things to do, but it's very different from the original line. "But those are just normal things we do together" is something I just came up with on the spot, but it's a lot closer to the original text and still conveys the same meaning. The fact they changed the line to "that's just us being friends" is, honestly, not even subtle that they're covering up queer subtext. The original scene was very clearly written in as ship tease, and EN mentioning "friends" for no reason, especially since the word nor anything close to it was not used in the original, is instantly a red flag because it's like the go-to for queerbaiting and censorship. This was intentional. There was no need for them to specify that the relationship is platonic, Luka's part is ambiguous for a reason so that fans can view it how they like.

Just to top all this off, here's Rin's original line just before that Luka+Nene interaction:

Oh, and! And! She said that playing games with Nene-chan is also super fun!

And here's Rin's line from the official EN translation:

That's not the same thing, but even more weirdly, the incorrect part (super fun->really loves) is a correct translation for the part changed in Luka's line. So, they can do it, they are willing to say "really loves", just not in the right places. Maybe because Rin's part is less personal than Luka's part? It's strange actually, this isn't the first time they've done this either. Off the top of my head I can think of an example from Shiho's Varied Kindness 2* story where they translated the word "suki" as really loves, despite that being much stronger than the original word used (and the fact that daisuki is used a lot in the Leo/need stories and it's incredibly rare if not entirely unknown for them to translate it correctly).

It's not subtle that they're trying to remove implications of the characters possibly being queer, they did it in curtain call and they did it in walk on and on, and multiple times before then too. And considering some of the content in this year's events and the amount of times they say daisuki alone, it's gonna keep happening. honestly i hate the fact that i keep trying to justify the translations in these posts. these translations are intentional. what happened in the curtain call translation back in october says enough. when a character who uses explicitly romantic language towards another guy passes as a straight character in the translation you know they're doing it on purpose.

oh and once again, it's only the EN server that has this issue. The scene in question was translated almost word-for-word on the TW and KR servers.

read fan translations. they're better than what EN gives us and people put a lot of effort into them.

#since the EN translation qualifies as a leak i am scheduling this to post when the event drops #asks #mod talks #i'm going to leave this in the tags because i don't want to make the post any longer #but something that's been really annoying to see recently on twt has been the gradual uptick of players saying that there's no queer #characters/subtext/etc in the game outside mizuki being trans. and i do wonder if EN's consistent habit of toning down #or outright removing moments of heavy subtext and other more ambiguous shiptease moments has anything to do with it. #that or people live under a rock because even EN keeps most of An and Kohane's relationship intact and there's still plenty of #moments that were impossible to edit or tone down due to being plot relevant or being part of longer interactions that wouldn't make sense #if part of it was changed. like the An wedding event. #eh maybe people are just ignorant. #but anyway it does bug me immensely that EN-only players are getting a censored version of the game. it's 2024. staff can do better. #also like i mentioned in the part about rin. they /add in/ things occasionally. so why the hell are they removing so much?

[weird-is-life]

hii I have a rockstar!remus request where the reader is a massive fan of the Marauders band and she got front row seats (idk what instrument u prefer to have remus play but guitarist!remus lives in my head rent free) and he sees her in the crowd and when it's his guitar solo he just locks eyes with her and doesn't look away and then winks at her when he's done<3

Hiii ty for this cute request! Hope you like it and lovelies if you have some more request for rockstar!remus feel free to send them my way, warnings: fluff, mentions of concerts, (0.5k)

You've been a fan of The Marauders basically since they've started playing. But this is your first time at their concert, where you can actually see their faces in real life, not just through those huge TV screens.

You're standing in the front row, giddy as one can be. It all feels like some kind of fever dream being this close to the stage.

And something that makes it even better, it's that right in front of you is the bassist of the band, Remus Lupin.

He's definitely your favourite member of the band. With his soft face, kind looking eyes, devilish smile, wild hair, he's the perfect definition of a rockstar and that's basically why every single girl or a boy melts at the sight of him.

But even tho, you really love him, you aren't one of the girls, that will go crazy at the sight of him.

It's because you know, there's no fucking chance, that he'd ever look at you and think ' oh that girl is really cute, lemme ask her out'. You know, that's not happening, like ever, so you settle for enjoying the moment of just seeing him so close.

But something weird keeps happening during the show. Remus seems to be looking at you every now and then, or at least you think he is. Maybe you're just going crazy.

You try to not think of it, not wanting to be delusional. But when one of Remus's bass solos come on, you know for sure, you're ot imagining it.

Remus's is definitely looking at you. Like he doesn't break the eye contact the entire solo and it makes your cheeks go on fire.

You even look around you to make sure, he's not looking at somebody behind you. He's not.

And his smirking isn't helping the situation, like at all and by the time the solo is over, your cheeks are red as a tomato and a shy smile is stuck on your face.

What makes it even worse for you is when he winks at you at the end of it. You have to actually hold on to the railing just so you don't loose your stability, suddenly feeling like some silly fangirl.

And that handsome bastard just chuckles at your stunned, sheepish face.

For the rest of the concert, you try your best to calm down and to bring your stupid hopes down. It feels impossible tho.

And finally, the last song ends and you can go to your hotel room to take a cold shower to get rid of the permanent flushed cheeks.

But your hope of doing that dissappears just as quickly as it came, because one of the bodyguards hands you a folded paper. It's written in a messy handwriting, that you don't recognise, but you easily guess who's it from.

Thank you for being a great view for me, dove. Your dance moves and smile made my evening, hell the entire week probably. So thank you. See you soon hopefully ;)

Love, R.L.

Bravely, you scribble your phone number with a short note on the other side of the paper and quickly run out of there. Cheeky smile now paints your face as you make your way to the hotel and surprisingly, when your phone vibrates with a notification, you know it's him, it's from Remus.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #rockstar!remus #remus lupin

[basu-shokikita]

Thinking about Toki's character arc in Metalocalypse...

Now that Metalocalypse is officially over, or so it seems, I wanted to go over what Army of the Doomstar means for Toki's growth.

Warnings for spoilers for, well, the entirety of Metalocalypse.

So, over the course of the show, we see Toki repeatedly trying (and failing) to form a meaningful bond with several living beings, people and animals included.

Analysis under the cut ⬇️

Season 1

It starts with a dying little girl called Juliette Sarmangsadandle in Dethkids (S1E16). Toki is upset over being misunderstood aka his public image being associated with kids and vehemently fights the idea by adopting an edgy personality.

When he watches Juliette's video, about being a child that longs for violence, it speaks to him and his childhood. Toki feels seen by this little girl and imagines his child self singing with her.

Sadly, when he goes out to meet her, she's already dead. Here goes Toki's first attempt at connection, utterly butchered.

In the following episode, we're introduced to Rockzo in Dethclown (S1E17). Toki brings his clown friend over and everyone pretty much almost instantly dislikes him. Not to mention Rockzo tries to betray Dethklok for drugs. Still, he sticks around for the remainder of the show as Toki's friend.

Though it's important to mention how much of that friendship involves Rockzo abusing Toki's kindness and generally being a shitty person. He's not exactly someone Toki can rely on.

It is not that significant but I'd also like to give a shout out to Dethwater (S1E02), where Toki is locked in an oxygen chamber and sings to the fishes and creatures in the sea. It's an early episode, but already portrays Toki's friendly nature and colorful life outlook.

Season 2

In season 2, we have Dethlessons (S2E02). After having a disagreement with Skwisgaar's teaching method, Toki meets Dimneld Selftcark. Though initially wanting him as guitar teacher, it's clear Toki doesn't actually intend to perfect his craft and more than anything appreciates his company. Toki even refers to him as 'a father friend'.

However, as luck would have it, Selftcark is ill and dies in Toki's arms after Toki gave his first recital.

Then there's Dethdad (S2E15), where Toki learns that his dad is dying of cancer. Toki is very much visibly affected by his parents' abuse towards him, though he still decides to pay his father a visit. When Toki finally gains the courage to see him and bond one last time, his father requests to see the cottage he was born at before dying.

Unfortunately, Toki steps and slips on his way there, dropping his father into the ice. Toki watches his father die and is unable to do anything about it.

This boy is really just collecting traumas all the way, huh?

Season 3

Dethhealth (S3E03) has Toki adopting a cat he found at a concert. Although he is not the best caretaker of the animal, Toki is very obviously fond of his new pet.

But, of course, the cat was dying, solving the mystery of who was the person dying within Dethklok. Toki is so devastated that he faints and then proceeds to have an elaborate dream sequence for closure.

Fertilityklok comes three episodes later (S3E06) and we find a Toki jaded with casual sex encounters. He decides he wants to meet a partner whom he can have children with. Though initially facing Dethklok's indignation, Toki goes forward with the idea and lands in a dating agency.

They find the perfect partner for Toki but nothing ever goes well with this guy and the lady in question disappoints Toki both in looks and personality. To make things worse, the agency wants to force him in a relationship with her and for Toki to impregnate her, even.

Toki manages to escape the whole charade and decides he's better off with sluts. This one is not so tragic as much as it's just another total failure at forming the connection Toki so desperately craves.

Season 4

Diversityklok (S4E04) and Bookklok (S4E05) feature Toki's interpersonal problems within the band so I figured they were mentioning as well.

In Diversityklok, Toki complains about feeling constantly left out by the band, so he forms a 'special persons invite club' to gain agency over his friends. He still ends up being forgotten by them at the end of the episode.

In Bookklok, Toki has a fallout with Skwisgaar after being denied a solo and writes a book denouncing his behavior towards him. In modern lingo, he essentially cancelled Skwisgaar. He fails to consistently maintain the fans' approval as he flunks the solo he so desperately wanted. His fight with Skwisgaar is not resolved (at least, not on screen).

Finally we get to Dethcamp (S4E07), where Toki's erratic behavior conflates with the mainline plot. In the search for friends, Toki goes to the Rock-a-Rooni Fantasy Camp, where he's almost killed by one of the campers. He's saved by Dethklok's former rhythm guitarist, Magnus Hammersmith and they subsequently become friends.

Good ending? No, Magnus stabs and kidnaps Toki over Roy Cornickleson's funeral, his fate being unknown as the season ends.

Doomstar Requiem

We finally learn how Toki joined the band. He showed up late to Dethklok's auditions and had a guitar duel with Skwisgaar, where he eventually lost. Defeated, he was abandoning the premises when Skwisgaar says that nobody made him play as well as Toki did, inviting him to join the band.

From then on, it's all rainbows and happiness for Toki as his life finally takes a turn for the better. He has found a family and a home. He loves his brothers and his life. Current Toki is on the brink of death and thinking about Dethklok is his only solace.

I might be biased in saying this but the sequence from 'I Believe' feels like the peak of the movie, and I don't think this is incidental.

While Toki is rescued at the end of the movie, we don't get to see a proper reunion.

Army of the Doomstar

Cut to 10 years later, Army of the Doomstar releases and while the plot is much about the end of the world, we get to see post-DSR Toki.

First of all, at the start of AOTD it is stated that Toki (as well as the rest of the band besides Nathan) has forgotten about what happened during Doomstar Requiem. However, his attitude towards the band is very loving, stating he's happy to be back with them.

He's especially fond towards Skwisgaar, attempting to hug him multiple times, worrying and being generally attentive of him. Toki shows both verbal and physical affection towards Skwisgaar over the course of the movie, finalizing in the bridal carry during the before last scene. Compared to the show, it's a huge contrast to their relationship, where Skwisgaar and Toki behaved as rivals, with Toki feeling simultaneously admiration and envy towards Skwisgaar.

But what are you trying to say with all of this, Basu? Well, essentially it's the following:

At some point, Toki started feeling neglected by the band and began seeking love from outside sources. The childhood companion he never had (Juliette), a father figure (Selftcark), his actual father, a pet, a girlfriend and finally...an actual friend he could rely on (Magnus). All of the aforementioned failed, eventually landing him in an even worst situation where he started.

However, being stuck there, wounded, malnourished and dying is what reminded him of the best time of his life. Of the people most important to him. And even if those memories were seemingly gone, the feeling prevailed.

Sure, Dethklok is massively flawed and there's lot of work they have to do with regards to interpersonal relationships, but they're his family and his life. Perhaps the lifestyle or his need for ego/power (Skwisgaar plays a big hand in this) made him forget about it for a second, but he knows it now. He doesn't need to look for love from strangers, he already has it in them. They're everything he's always wanted and he's going to cherish them for the rest of his life.

And if you're wondering why the special emphasis on Skwisgaar, my theory has to do with the age regressing that was confirmed in the movie. While it mostly happened over the Ishnifus funeral, I think Toki has generally gone back to the emotional state he was in when he joined Dethklok. A young, easily impressionable man happy to finally have found a family.

Which means he holds Skwisgaar in special regard, considering he is the guy that accepted him into the band. Not Nathan, Pickles or Murderface, it was Skwisgaar.

You could almost say that Toki might view Skwisgaar as his hero, given that he is the reason Toki has everything he has right now. So I think Toki's gratefulness is expressing in that almost overwhelming affection. Just like Toki's not going to let himself forget his feelings for the band, he's not going to let them forget about his feelings, either. It might not be easy, but Toki's priorities are clear now. His heart is with Dethklok.

In short, even if Army of the Doomstar didn't address Toki's issues the way we would've wanted, it's still a happy outcome for him and I fully believe he'll have more than enough to work on them. Metalocalypse is, at its core, a story about found family. This is specially true for Toki.

So, I really believe that Toki is eventually going to heal and be happy with the band. :)

#metalocalypse #toki wartooth #dethklok #doomstar requiem #army of the doomstar #basu post #analysis #sorry for the corniness at the end fdjhsdjkfdj #sometimes a bitch loves her blorbo too much #ive been wanting to write this for months i finally got my shit together and did it

[seikilos-stele]

Izzy, Ed, and Saying “I’m Sorry”

I saw a post recently that said Ed’s apology (“sorry about your leg”) was fine actually, because that’s just how Ed and Izzy are, it’s just how they talk.

So I wanted to stress: that’s how Ed is. That’s not how Izzy is.

When Izzy apologizes, it’s: “I said some things I regret last night. I don’t think you’re a shell of a man or a twat.” And: “Ed, I’m sorry. I’ve been terrible to you. I fed your darkness. Blackbeard. For years I egged him on even though I knew you’d outgrown him.”

In S1 and S2 we see how izzy apologizes. He acknowledges his wrongdoing in specific “I” statements — “I did THIS, and I regret it,” “I did THIS, and it was a terrible thing to do.” When Ed apologizes it’s “Sorry about your leg.” Not “Sorry for what I did to your leg,” and no eye contact.

Some people think that Izzy’s response, “Fuck off,” is evidence that he doesn’t accept Ed’s apology, but I disagree — I do think Izzy accepted. I think it’s the most he’s ever gotten from Ed and he knows he’s not going to get anything better. Ed himself says he’s never apologized before, and only does it (not to Izzy but to the crew) when Stede makes him.

It’s worth analyzing how the two apologies are treated by the narrative as well. When Ed apologizes, all is forgiven; he gets his crew (“Ed, they love you”), he gets his lover and his happy ending. For Izzy, the narrative isn’t so kind. In one case, his apology is met with deceit from Ed — to prevent Izzy from further apologizing (by leaving the ship) Blackbeard lies to Izzy and says he plans to kill Stede, then maneuvers Izzy into doing it for him. Only to let Izzy be banished, because he never really wanted Stede dead in the first place. To recap, Izzy is mean to Ed in private; he gives a sincere, unprompted apology the next morning and tries to repent by leaving the ship; he is narratively punished with a humiliating duel and banishment.

In S2, Izzy apologizes to the crew by protecting them from the Kraken, and he IS narratively rewarded for this. His wordless apology results in love from the crew, acceptance, and support. It’s worth noting that we never see Ed make the same concerted effort to change his behavior. Stede tries to push Ed into it, but Ed resists — he rolls his eyes, he treats it as a joke, and he tries to convince his crew that they actually enjoyed being tortured. This is very different from Izzy, who quietly changes his ways without being forced or prompted.

In the finale, Izzy apologizes for feeding Ed’s darkness and absolves Ed for the way he mutilated Izzy in the S1 finale and first two episodes of S2. These mutilations are physical acts including multiple amputations and forced auto-cannibalism; Izzy still bears the scar from his suicide attempt following the final and most severe amputation. Izzy gives a high-quality apology for his mean words (“namby pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend,” “I serve Blackbeard, not Edward. Edward better watch his step.”) Ed doesn’t apologize for choking Izzy, for cutting off his toes and feeding them to him, for shooting him or for goading him into suicide; he certainly doesn’t apologize for lying to him back in S1 about Stede. As we all know, while Izzy dies, Ed doesn’t apologize at all. Izzy gets only one apology from Ed in S2. It’s a low-quality apology vaguely referencing Izzy’s leg, without taking responsibility for it. Ed’s apology is the same distant statement of pity that we might hear from Lucius or Black Pete upon noticing that Izzy is disabled. “Sorry about your leg” — not as in “I’m sorry for what I did,” but as in, “Wow, it sucks that that happened to you. And it has nothing to do with me.”

It’s made worse by the fact that Ed can’t just apologize to Izzy. It’s Izzy who approaches Ed, awkwardly extending the olive branch. Ed rebukes Izzy for avoiding him and makes a judgmental comment about Izzy’s recent uptick in drinking, then seeks out Izzy’s reassurance/comfort (“It feels like a storm’s coming…”). Izzy refuses to give Ed the comfort he seeks, and it’s clear that this bothers Ed; it’s a departure from their usual dynamic.

Ed has to work up to an apology over the course of a brief conversation where the first thing he does is subtly reprimands Izzy for avoiding him. Ed’s priority is not to say he’s sorry; it’s to make sure Izzy knows Ed is upset about the silent treatment and then to seek comfort for Ed’s own emotional turmoil. Contrast this with both Izzy’s apologies: in S1, when Ed approaches him, Izzy squares his shoulders and apologizes right away. There’s no waffling about it; it’s clearly been weighing on his mind, and he needs to say he’s sorry before the conversation veers elsewhere. In S2, Izzy is literally dying; he asks Ed to stay with him, and then launches directly into his apology. There are no insults; there’s no cattiness; he doesn’t try to make Ed feel bad for being hurt.

Conclusion:

There’s a world of difference between Izzy’s apologies and Ed’s. The first difference is in the quality. The second difference is in how the narrative treats them. Ed’s low-quality apologies are rewarded. Izzy’s higher-quality apologies are punished with banishment and death.

#ofmd critical #ofmd #Izzy hands

[kaliforniahigh]

I decided to write a HC about Noah dating a girl with ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder)

This is solely based on my experience. Even though I'm not professionally diagnosed, all the evidence and my selective eating points to ARFID.

And I just know he would be the sweetest.

Let's start with the first date. They were always nerve-wracking for you, because he told you he would be picking the place. But what if it had no options for you?

Other dates had gone south because of this. You hearing things along the lines of "why are you such a picky eater?" "you're an adult, you should eat everything!"

It goes without saying you've been out of the dating scene for a while. But something told you that Noah was different. He was very kind and caring, it was difficult for you to picture him being an asshole to you like the other ones.

Once you get to the restaurant, you start to scan the menu, hoping he isn't one of those people who like to order for each other.

Salmon, fish, oyster... as you keep reading, the fear gets worse and worse, because sea food is really NOT your thing.

But then you get to the kids menu and your eyes finally land on the chicken and fries plate.

Noah obviously notices this, and he obviously thinks he fucked up because why the hell would he not ask you if you liked sea food before picking the restaurant??

"You don't like sea food, do you?" He asks with a shy smile.

"It's not that I don't li-" "You can say you don't like it, it's totally fine, I won't be upset or anything" so you tell him that it's actually not your preferred food.

He stands up from his seat and extends his hand for you to take "c'mon, let's go eat something we're both going to enjoy. I'm not gonna let us have a shitty first date"

You're honestly shocked, because he is going out of his way to make sure you enjoy tonight.

The months pass and he notices habits you have. Like pushing aside some things on your plate, or checking your burger to see if everything is ok. And he really wants to ask, but he doesn't know how. And he doesn't want to offend you.

The day he really can't help it is when he invites you backstage to a show he is performing. In the rush that is everything before a concert, he really doesn't notice you don't eat anything from the catering table.

You give him a kiss for good luck and take your place side stage to watch him.

Towards the end of the concert, he notices you're gone. But he just thinks it's a bathroom break or something of the sort.

He thanks the fans, they throw the towels and guitar picks and he heads backstage when someone stops him. "Hey, man. You should check on Y/N, she doesn't seem like she's very well"

He frowns and runs to where you are, noticing that you are, in fact, very pale, your hands are shaking and cold.

"What happened, baby?"

"I just need to eat something, I'll be fine"

"When was the last time you ate? Here, we have food around here, grab a plate" He starts to look around but notices you're not on the same wavelength as he is with this.

So you have no other option but to tell him. The hard time you had as a kid, the never eating from the school cafeteria, or your parents not being able to go to restaurants because you don't eat anything there.

The patronizing looks you got when you told people you don't eat hot dogs. Or soup. Or sushi. Or sea food.

After this, he always makes sure he walks around with a safe snack for you. He calls hotels to make sure they have safe options for you to eat for breakfast. Checks every restaurant menu beforehand. Talks to his tour management about food options for the catering they have.

But he also encourages you to eat different things. So he always buys things he thinks you're going to enjoy. He says it's a win-win situation, because if you don't eat it, then he can have it himself.

I would like to write more on this topic, so if you have suggestions, you can send them!

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian headcanons #bad omens imagine #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Civilian Asset 3.

Polyamorous/femme/female reader x multiple

Summary: Things go from bad to worse.

Master List / Prev chapter

Warnings: 18+, Mild/brief self harm (over-washing), language, peril, first aid/wound care, discussion of terrorism, emotional break downs

Tagging: A couple folks have asked about tagging. Unfortunately tagging breaks my posts, so I don't keep lists. But I DO reply to each comment on each chapter when I post something new. So it's like a hand-written invitation delivered by butler to your inbox.

A/N: Thank you for your continued support! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Barely edited, but made with love. Keeping chapters short for quicker updates, so that Soap teaser I dropped will actually be in 4. My bad.

3.

You can’t think beyond my face hurts and I thought I died.

The men to either side have you packed in tight, shoulders pressing against yours, knees bumping with every sway and turn. All four of the soldiers keep their eyes on the passing landscape and the road leading through it. The men only speak to make note of potential tails, to confirm or deny the presence of new threats.

You left London a while back, and you’re in the patchwork of expanding towns spilling out beyond the green belt by the time you regain enough sense to notice.

You see very little. Fewer houses. More fields.

None of it really sinks in. The inside of the car smells like gun oil, sweat, and a coppery stink you know rises from your own clothes. Your own skin and hair and empty nail beds.

You let yourself disappear for a while. For maybe an hour, you let the static blanket your mind like snow. It’s like floating on the top of the lake, and if you break that surface tension, you’ll drown, so you let it blind your senses instead. So long as no one notices you, you don’t have to exist. You tell yourself it’s just for a minute, just for a bit, just until something else goes wrong and you have to remember pain, and fear, and whatever else makes up your life in the moment. The protective blur stretches on forever, and you lose track of time.

An itch pulls you back into your body. Eyes on you. Someone watching.

You glance up, and you meet death’s gaze in the rearview. There are eyes, but no face. Only a skull. For a brief instant you think of trying to jerk awake, like you would in a falling dream, because maybe the reaper isn’t real, unlike every other horror of the day. But then you notice the cloth beneath the bone and the military headgear.

It’s just a man in a mask, the one in the front passenger seat with the rifle you noticed as you piled in behind the Scotsman.

Skull-face blinks slowly, twice, confident you won’t look away while his eyes are closed, patiently enigmatic as a cat.

The SUV turns sharply onto a gravel track, and Skull-face turns back to the window, like he didn’t just stare you down through the mirror.

The uneven jolts as the tires dip into grooves and potholes drives away the last of the static. And you blink, eyes still on the mirror, trying to come to grips with reality.

What the actual fuck?

Around the bend, a farmhouse creeps into view. It sits low over the green turf, unassuming apart from old leaded windows that make it look too much like something out of a cottage core mood board for the situation. This isn’t a space for men with guns and tac vests.

But the man in the bucket hat taps on the brakes, nods, and says, “Ghost, Gaz: clear the house.” He doesn’t change gear. Doesn’t park. Even now, he’s ready for an ambush.

You don’t think the men who grabbed you were capable of thinking that far ahead. They did find the original safehouse, though, so maybe you should be a good civilian and keep those thoughts to yourself.

The Brit who clipped the zip ties off your wrists and helped you out of the warehouse pops out with a “Yes, sir.” So does the grim reaper up front. The doors slam shut again, and the two move in concert, guns raised, sights fixed on the windows and door as they approach. The man in the mask takes point, rushing through the door the instant his colleague turns the knob, and they disappear inside.

You’re uncomfortably aware of… everything. Your breath. The ants roving under your skin. The two men still in the car with you. It’s impossible to sit still, and you peer around your enclosure like a gerbil in a hamster ball – technically safe but in no control. The wind stirs the bushes at the edge of the driveway, and you imagine people behind them who move like your escorts. Cold. Efficient. And they’re already too close.

Your neck strains as you try to see through all the windows at once, struggling to catch a glimpse of doom before it drags you under.

“You broken?”

The leader, the man behind the wheel, must be addressing the Scot. It only registers he’s talking to you when you find said Scot watching you, too. There’s more room in the back now, but you still feel crowded and exposed in a horrible, nonsensical mess.

And – oh, right, the man is talking to you.

“Hey.” He doesn’t look through the mirror. He physically turns, arm over the back of the seat, so he can look you in the eye as he asks again, and his words come slow to your adrenaline-scoured brain. “Are you broken?”

You flounder. Puzzled. That… means what? You’re missing context. Is what broken? No bones. They didn’t – technically – hurt you that badly. Everything will fix itself in time. It could’ve been worse. You know that, even if in the moment all you want to do is sprint to the ends of the earth, find a blanket, and curl up in the darkest corner at the edge of the map.

Is he asking if you’re functional? If you can make it through debriefing?

That must be it.

And, fuck, you’d physically fight all four of them at this point if they tried to stop you from passing on the intelligence you’ve literally bled for.

“No.” You’re surprised by your own conviction (and how little your voice shakes). “Not broken.”

There’s an actual twinkle in his eye – and really, how dare he? – but his approval and the uptick of those bushy, bearded cheeks is the right kind of ridiculous in the moment. The Scot huffs beside you, but you don’t have the bandwidth for any more smirks, twinkles, or other bullshittery, so you keep your eyes forward and hope to fuck someone will tell you what to do. You can only hop between so many distractions before you miss a step and fall into a heaving mess on the floor.

“Good,” says Captain Fishing Hat. He turns back to the wheel just as Skull Face comes back.

The burly man signals, and as the boss finally turns off the engine, he opens the door and reports, “House is clear. Gaz is setting up for debrief.”

Gaz, then, must be the youngest Englishman. The Scot shifts, subtly ushering you out, and you scoot along as instructed, letting the men more or less herd you across the yard, through the door, into the kitchen. They keep their heads on a swivel, and that doesn’t help your nerves. Not at all. But they don’t give you time to stop and angst over it, either.

You find yourself in the kitchen, guided to one of four wooden chairs around a square table. It’s covered in tech. A black case sits open on one of the other seats, and the empty foam imprints inside match the boxes, cables, and laptop before you.

“Ready, Kyle?” Fishing Hat asks.

“Nearly, Captain,” Gaz replies. “Working on the connection now.”

So, Captain Fishing Hat is an actual captain. You aren’t shocked. Maybe in shock, but not surprised.

But as you sit where you’re told and watch the screen illuminate, a realization dawns on you. You won’t be debriefing to these men. Someone else at the other end of this connection is waiting for the whole story, and fear flutters to life in your gut like a startled pigeon. Loud, awkward, probably diseased.

What if you’ve misjudged all this? What if it’s a ploy? The enemy of your enemy is not always your friend, and the proper authorities aren’t the only ones hungry for the information you carry. Stiffening in your seat, you prepare for another fight, lifting the prickly guard you let drop as you knelt in the back of the SUV, clinging to the Scotsman’s tac vest.

Just as you’re glancing at the window over the kitchen sink and wondering if you jump high enough to break through the glass before any of the men grab you, a face appears on the screen, and the woman says your name.

You recognize her. Or at least her voice.

It’s the woman from the phone.

You physically droop against the back of the chair, gasping in relief.

Fuck. Fuck.

You’re going to be okay.

“Glad to see you in one piece,” she says.

“Me, too.” A rasp taints your voice, and you feel the phantom pressure of an arm crushing your trachea.

“Kate Laswell,” she introduces herself. “This is a secure line. Go ahead and tell me what you know.”

It’s easier than you expect. You’ve been thinking so much about everything you need to say, turning over pieces in your head, putting it into clearer words, ordering it by importance, that now it just flows. You lean forward, desperately ready to spill. But just because you’ve gathered everything into a coherent thread doesn’t make it any less painful to acknowledge. It’s like tugging up a string of barbed wire from your gut, pulling it out of your mouth inch by inch. You worry if you have to stop, the blades will lodge in your throat.

The woman is clearly a pro, though, and she saves her questions.

You list names first: people in American alphabet agencies with ties to a particularly violent white supremacist group. If there’s any chance they could be listening, she could end the call and try again in a secure location. But she must’ve guessed something was off when the official safehouse she sent you to was compromised. This time she’s prepared, and she lets you continue.

There’s a bomb, a new alliance with ultranationalists, someone named Makarov. It’s a test. To see if the American terrorists are as good as they say, if they’re worth Makarov’s investment. There’s a promise of more if they get the body count Makarov’s set (thousands).

The man whose blood you’ll always feel, slick between your fingers as you confused the thump of the nightclub’s base with your own pulse, kept his cover long enough to get the details of the attack. Date, location, time, target. He didn’t live long enough to give you more. He gave you what he thought was most important. You hope it’s enough. You hope it’s worth it.

Laswell thinks for a minute, then asks, “Did the men who kidnapped you indicate they knew how much of this information you possessed?”

“No. They, uh – that was the whole point, I think.” You lift you hand, so she can see the missing nails. “They wanted to know how compromised they were before they shot me.”

You say it so quickly it only clicks after it leaves your mouth. They were going to shoot you. You knew that, but away from the rough hands and zip ties it feels surreal. People like you don’t get shot. People like you have car accidents and a few too many fast food dinners for your general wellbeing. But the gun against your head was real. It’s a true thing that just happened, and that means people like you do get shot. Every safe, calm moment in your life looks like a lie, a skewed carnival mirror in retrospect.

People like you get shot.

People want to kill you.

You may still get shot. That’s why you’re in this safehouse with four heavily armed men.

Time isn’t the endless resource you imaged yesterday morning. It isn’t a solid path with clear, expected landmarks with which to gauge your progress. It’s ice, and the patch under your feet spiderwebs with ominous cracks.

You realize Laswell is speaking again.

“- handle the situation Stateside. Your current location is one of my private safehouses. Not on any list. Totally secure. I think it’s best to stay there and treat it as your base of operations for now, Captain.”

The captain, leaning over your shoulder to get in frame, nods. He’s too close without touching you, but no one’s indicated your part in this is finished. So you stay put.

“Rog,” he says.

“The attack is our chief priority, but closing the active cell in England and following their trail back to Makarov is a close second. I already have taps being set on a few of the names on that list.” Laswell says your name, and she clearly tries to soften her war face, but she’s all business right now. “I’m leaving you in the custody of the 141, under Captain Price.”

He gently claps you on the shoulder, like he’s assuming command. “Understood. Keep us in the loop, Kate.”

“Roger that. Keep your heads down. Stay safe. Over and out.”

The feed cuts out, Gaz – Kyle? – closes the laptop, moving the chaos out of the way as the Scotsman appears with a first aid kit. None of the soldiers leave space for an awkward pause. They all have a mission. Somewhere to be. Something to do.

The captain pulls a second chair up beside yours, meeting your gaze with another of his disarmingly charming smiles that crinkles at his eyes. As he and the Scot begin sorting through the kit, he says, “We’re overdue for introductions. Captain John Price.”

He holds out his hand, and you tentatively accept it in a piss poor handshake, but his smile doesn’t break, and he gestures at the Scotsman. “That’s Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, or Soap.”

The sergeant waves with a handful of cotton pads and disinfectant. He points into the corner, where Skull Face lurks. “Grumpy bastard in the corner’s Ghost. He’s a lieutenant. If you were curious.”

No one offers his real name, and you swallow down every question with a vengeance. The names make them seem real, concrete, and you seize the lifeline they’ve thrown.

You make eye contact with the last man, trying to prove you aren’t a sack of potatoes in human skin and have an actual, working brain between your ears. “And you’re Gaz?”

He smiles, reaching over the table to shake your hand in a way that makes you double down on your bet that he’s the youngest. Certainly the least jaded, even if he’s every bit the soldier the others are. “Sergeant Kyle Garrick, yeah.”

Ghost pushes off from the wall and heads back towards the front door. “I’ll take first watch.”

Whether he’ll be watching the road from a sniper’s perch or chilling by a window, you can only guess, but his captain gives him another nod, and off he goes. Sociable as an alley cat.

“Let’s see about that hand, then.” Calloused fingers rasp along the underside of your wrist as the captain lifts your hand into the light. He arranges it carefully on the table, keeping his touch gentle so you don’t feel the raw bands of irritated skin where the zip ties bruised you.

It isn’t like you’re resisting. The bloody nail beds don’t look right, and you’re struggling to believe they belong to you at all. There’s an experiment where people develop an artificial connection to and fear for an artificial hand. You feel like you’re in an opposite test. Your eyes say the hand on the table belongs to you, but it doesn’t feel that way. If the captain sawed it off instead of gingerly spraying antiseptic ointment over the exposed nerves, you might just shrug it off.

The bandages hurt, though.

The pain tugs at your gut, and you rejoin your whole body with a shudder. That hurts, too. You take a deep breath, and your stomach aches. Your free hand squeezes into a fist, and the scabs on your knuckles crack open. When tears flood your eyes, you can only imagine what new agonies they’d summon if you let them fall, so you blink furiously and pretend your eyelashes aren’t so wet they stick together.

As his captain finishes treating your hand, the Scot – MacTavish, Johnny, Soap, whatever the fuck you’re supposed to call him – takes a seat on the table, pinches your chin, and puts one of those little cleansing pads he’d been fussing with to work. It stings like a bitch, and you flinch despite your best efforts.

Still holding your chin, he angles your face up and blows over a series of cleaned scrapes on your cheek. The tiny breeze might as well be a hurricane. It knocks the soul from your body, and you go entirely still, befuddled.

“The fuck, Soap?” Gaz asks.

The Scot huffs, getting back to work with a fresh gauze pad, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “You’re supposed to blow on cuts,” he grumbles, like he’s trying to sound gruff to make up for the accidental sentiment. “So they don’t sting.”

It makes you want to smile. You can’t remember how right now, but maybe you’ll think back to this moment and smile about it later.

“Thanks,” you say instead.

Soap has not forgotten how to smile. “You’re welcome, bonnie. Let me put a butterfly plaster on this, and you’ll be fit as a fiddle again.”

A nice thought, and maybe true for a soldier like him, but every screaming inch of your body informs you this is a lie.

The captain taps your knee, pulling your attention back to the fading crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He lifts a finger and leads your gaze from side to side, leaning in close to see if your pupils are the same size. “Doesn’t look like you have a concussion. Are you hurt anywhere else? Any risk of internal bleeding? Cracked ribs?”

Gaz, seeing your confusion (because how the fuck would you KNOW if you were bleeding internally?) offers some helpful context. “Did they kick you in the stomach? Any sharp pains in your chest when you breathe?”

Did they kick you? You can’t really remember. Probably. It’s all a furious blur of motion and panic.

“I’m not sure.”

It’s the truth, but it’s a bad one. The captain nods as a wintery flash passes over Gaz’s face. “That’s all right. Let us know if you notice any unusual swelling or new pains, yeah?”

“Okay.”

One more big smile – a bit forced, definitely for show – lifts his whiskers, and he climbs out of his chair, pulling it out of your way.

Gaz steps up to lead you out of the kitchen. You feel like a football – always under someone’s control, being run by one teammate to the next. But what else is there to do to, really? You follow him up a narrow flight of stairs to a pokey hall on the second level. There are three doors, and the first you pass has three twin beds crammed inside. The second is smaller but only holds two beds. And the last door leads to a bathroom. Gaz, clearly used to safehouse etiquette, fishes a washcloth, towel, and little bar of soap out of the deep, dark depths of a cupboard too high for you to reach.

He sets them on the counter in a tidy pile and says, “You really shouldn’t get your bandages wet for forty-eight hours, but I bet you feel like hell. Washing up a little with just the sink might help.”

His big brown eyes fix on you, too soft and looking for some kind of confirmation you’re okay without getting in your face.

Are you broken?

Fuck. They’re all trying to make this normal. What happened isn’t their fault, and they’ve surely seen worse. They probably don’t have to babysit damaged goods after the fact very often, though. The least you can do is try to make this normal for them, too.

“Like a bus ran over me, backed up, and ran over me again.” You think for a minute and add: “Might’ve been some Nazgul, or cave trolls, or some other shit, too.”

The soldier snorts. A grin catches him by surprise and turns his whole face bright. The effort was definitely worth it.

“Tolkien? I like it.” As he moves out of the bathroom, he points at the smaller bedroom. “Take whatever bed in there you want. Since one of us will be on watch, we probably won’t need the other one. Give you a bit of privacy. Try to get some rest, yeah?”

You can’t imagine how you’ll fall asleep, but you act like his suggestion is as reasonable as it sounds.

“Of course.”

He leaves you alone.

You soak the washcloth in tepid water and peel off your shirt. There’s a countdown of little tasks in your head, ways to delay the inevitable. How long can you linger over the soap and cheap terrycloth? What if you just lock the door and keep wake sitting on the cold floor?

Then you notice your reflection.

You haven’t thought about what you look like. It’s less your face staring back and more a collection of hurts, and you struggle to find yourself through the bruises and bandages.

Everything aches, throbs, or stings. You’re so scared you want to smash your head into the counter just in case it’s like in the movies, and time rewinds, letting you wake up in bed at the hostel with a clear head and free day to play tourist. You know how to do that. Always going, doing, seeing. Always a task, a plan, an idea.

Now your hands are empty – apart from that one fucking piece of glitter you can’t get off between your thumb and forefinger. It winks in the light, and you scrub at it in a frenzy. You clean everything in a rush, too rough with your bruises, but you’re on the verge of a breakdown, and you don’t want to fall apart in anything resembling a public space.

It’s all been too much for too long.

You open the door carefully, peek up and down the hall, wary of minding eyes. Then you nearly trip over your own feet getting into the smaller bedroom.

Door shut.

Shoes off.

Everything else stays on, every layer between you and the world outside a blessing as you bury yourself alive under a stiff, scratchy blanket that probably came from a secondhand shop two decades ago. Your breath catches when you breathe in, like you’re choking on the stuff you need to live. The air bubbles out in gasps. Painful. On the verge of sobs. But that would be too loud. You must be quiet and still or something awful will find you again.

It's a good thing tears are silent. You soak the flat pillow with them, hiding in the dark under the covers.

Impossibly, you do sleep. It takes a while, but your body screams for rest, and it pulls you deep as you cry yourself out into nightmares of voices arguing just behind your head, and eyes that send beams of light around shadowed walls.

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #141 x reader #cod fanfic #cod fanfiction #fanfiction

[stormblessed95]

Hi Stormblessed (dope name btw),

Don't know if this is the best place for this essay or the right time but I need to word-vomit this out, or I'm gonna be a JK-style spaced out zombie all day.

It's a truth universally acknowledged that a big part of the fandom tends to mis-characterize the members based on edits, fanfics and out-of-context clips. Something probably mostly to do with how social media platforms have been pushing for these short videos over the last few years. Why watch 300 hours of original content (some of which is behind a paywall) if you can get the gist of it (you think) from TikToks?

My particular point has to do with how that allows for the narrative (aka made up shit) especially around Jimin to grow. All of the members get that treatment, the maknaes worse due to their popularity, but due to how a big part of Army are also tkk shippers, Jimin is the one who's portrayal often skews more negative. The others' perceptions just are neutral or fantastical in a sense that they're more like badly written male leads. Don't get me wrong, solos throwing around bs is nothing singular to him but no one gets accused (said completely seriously btw) of sleeping his way into BTS or the release of his album.

After I saw this vitriol for the first time I had to actually sit down because wtf.

And then I started wondering why that is, and came to the conclusion that it is:

(Internalized) misogyny and sexism

Blatant homophobia

Jimin is the member the most obviously in tune of his femininity. He hasn't subscribed to gender norms for a decade at least, and once his hyper-masculine-esque persona from the debut days was dismissed, he ventured further. (That isn't to dismiss the growth they all have shown in that area.)

But antis, akgaes, Solos and shippers take that femininity and apply every stereotype and misogynistic idea to JM.

Traits they f.e. hate:

He is openly flirty with many people (members especially)

He is very physical, and touch is arguably one of his love languages and go-to way of comforting smn

He is pretty af and knows it

He's sensual and sexy and knows it

He's cute

He's sweet (aka a good fucking human)

But why does that make "them" hate him so much?

Because they have been taught that these traits in women (like themselves) are bad. What makes it worse, however, is that the men around JM all know these things to be true, acknowledge them as true and compliment him on them. In the case of JK (since this is about Jikook at the end of the day):

He loves flirty JM despite sometimes not knowing how to handle him (ehem the 'shameless convo'). He flirts back (fe the whole live where he was in bed begging for JM to come over)

Tkkers and such love pulling the "JK hates it" card. Which is nonsense, considering how he seeks JM's comfort when he's down (esp during concerts), actively cuddles JM (In The Soop) and never uses all his big muscles to shove JM but rather to just carry him around. Compare that to the jokingly disgusted face Yoongi pulls when Tae tries to hold his hand, and it becomes glaringly obvious that no one who says the members dislike touching each other has a leg to stand on. Calling it harassment goes so far beyond any line of sanity...

JK - like all of BTS - acknowledges that Jimin's beauty is simply out of this world. They are regularly stunned by his appearance

Just gonna point to JK's reaction to Filter, Blood Sweat & Tears, Black Swan, and Set Me Free pt 2 here. JK calls JM sexy so often it's hilarious

* inserts clip of absolutely WHIPPED JK after JM cutely punches him during that performance of Boy With Luv *. Also we know that "cute" his JK's type as he himself admitted.

Jimin has been Jungkook's comfort person for so long, and with such depth that he dedicated a whole trip and video to him. They care for each other so deeply that the only logical conclusion was to go to the military together.

Aka: he is all that they hate in the girls/women in their normal life so they can't do nothing but tear him down. They envy how comfortable he seems in his own skin, how easily he goes from sexy to cute, how loved he is by those around him. On top of that is how gay people are still perceived and treated by a lot of countries around the world. No matter what they say, being an army and shipping men doesn't make you automatically an ally and non-homophobic.

They treat Jimin like they would most likely treat the lgtbqia+ people in real life: something to be careful of, someone dishonest and slutty.

They conflate everything they hate about themselves and gay people and * boom * out come frankly terrifying tweets, fanfics and shit.

Contrast that with how these very same people fetishize the relationship between Tae and Jungkook - either viewing them like men who watch p_rn involving two women, or a self-insert with how little character they have - and that's the state of the army shipping community. They could be Barbie dolls getting smashed together and you wouldn't know the difference.

I'm not saying Jikookers are better in that, but the language they tend to use is incredibly different.

---

That was a lot.

To end on a sweet note: I saw a quote on Twitter "If you want to find out what someone fears losing, look at what they photograph."

And...well. that just screams Jikook

Hi! Thank you, I like my name too 🥰

And yeah, basically I agree. I think there is more to it as well, but that a lot of it could be boiled down to all this. And yeah, jikookers are just as guilty of this too, but not always in the same way. Sometimes in a way that is more fetishizing but is just as harmful. Take it from someone who has seen it all in my inbox from people who feel safe on anon 😂😂

Thanks for sharing! And your quote at the end is SOOOOO cute!

#jikook #kookmin #Jikook antis

[meosq]

Rockstar Rocker

“ stay in the middle , like you a little !”

Summary ; One of toman’s only female companions in the gang is actually a really famous rockstar! How will our beloved Manjiro react to being friends with a famous lead singer

warnings ; fem!reader

might do a k-pop idol version (о´∀`о)

“Yo Y/N! “ Baji shouted out out as y/n left class with the guitar bag hanging on her back.

she turned her head around just a little so that Baji could see she had acknowledged his call for her.

“Yeah?”

“are you heading to the meeting? Let me come with you we can-“

“Im not heading to the meeting, thats later . I have something to do right now. Talk to you later” y/n said as she walked out of the class and headed to her so called “something”

“ugh shes so mysterious, im sick of this! what if shes a spy from another gang?! or even worse…. Shes apart of another gang?!!?” Baji thought as his reasoning became more and more irrational.

“This calls for a toman og follow party!!!” He shouted as he ran out of the class in a hurry opening his phone to call his friends and discuss a plan.

“do you really think shes apart of another gang.. really?” Mitsuya asked in a sarcastic tone as he watched Baji take small things as you leaving for other things as treason.

“Im going to agree with Takashi here, y/n hasnt done anything wrong.” Draken also chirped in , confused as to what Baji was on about.

“Okay , well that settles it! We will follow her and see if im right or wrong!!” Baji stated as he walked to follow where he saw y/n last walking.

“Wait we cant-“ said mitsuya , but it was already too late. Most of the Og gang had started to follow Baji , not out of untrusting you but to just laugh at Baji once they find out it was nothing.

They walked until they stopped at a concert venue.

“This is where i saw her walk into , this is probably her hide out-“

“Would you look at that, the Loci’s are performing right now” said Manjiro as he read the post stuck on the wall.

“You’re right, she’s probably went in to see them perform” said Chifuya as he opened the doors to the venue and made his way into the concert.

They all made their way into the concert, hearing the beats of the drum and guitars getting louder.

“If we dont find her here, can we stay to listen to the rest of the concert?” Manjiro stated as he swayed his body to the beats excited to see the concert.

As the boys went into the venue they heard a familiar voice start to sing.

“no fucking way.” Draken stated first as he looked to see the lead singer of the famous Loci’s.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Manjiro stated

“fuck off” Baji said

The lead singer they were looking at was no other that their female friend, y/n.

She was singing and strumming her bass as the crowd continued to shout her lyrics back at her.

The sweat dripping from her face reflected the studio lights as she flipped her hair back. Indulging in her lyrics, not realising her so called “secret” was out.

As the concert was coming to an end and the screaming crowd started to leave as Y/n said her thanks with her band.

“you did amazing y/n!” Leon , her drummer said to her as he wrapped his hand around her neck placing you in choke hold.

“You really did hit that high note, i got shivers dude.” Nini , her bass said in a monotone voice.

“THEY ARE RIGHT! You did amazing y/n!!!” Manjiro said as he ran up to the stage.

“thank you Mikey- wait. Mikey? What the hell are you doing here” y/n said as she took her electric guitar off in utter confusion. Staring at her gang mates who had supposedly found out about her band.

“ someone had a suspicion about you, so we followed and now we know your actually just apart of a band instead of another gang.. right “ mituya stated as he stared at Baji silently alerting y/n that he thought she was very suspicious and maybe even a traitor.

That thought alone gave her a giggling fit, as she laughed at Baji for even thinking she would betray the gang she called her second home.

“Im sorry y/n..” baji said as he looked downwards embarrassed and shameful that he even thought she would betrayed them.

“Its okay, but im shocked you even got in! The tickets have been sold out for ages!” Y/n stated as she came to realise they wouldve found out sooner or later.

“Y/n i didnt know you could play electric and sing! Thats so insanely cool.” Chifuya said as his eyes gleamed with stars as he could finally see a “famous” person in real life let alone be friends with them.

“I mean… i do have a world tour coming up. You guys should come to the Asia maybe even American part of it! Ill even pay” she said subtly flexing her fame and wealth to the boys. As their ears perked up at the thought of travelling with friends around the globe.

“YES!”

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tr #anime #anime x reader #tokrev #headcanons #manjiro sano #mikey #mitsuya takashi #tr mitsuya #draken #ken ryuuguji headcanons #ken ryuguji #tokrev baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers chifuyu #matsuno chifuyu

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Plus One chapter 3

Note: a request by @neonhairspray that I managed to write with my beloved Plus One!Sihtric. I suggest to read chapter 1 & chapter 2 first if you haven't yet :) I hope you'll all enjoy this one. also; happy new year!

Warnings: 18+!! some smut, some fluff.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You asked Sihtric to be your plus one to a Hozier concert.

wordcount: 5,4k

Masterlist

'Will you be my plus one?'

Sihtric muttered something while you batted your lashes at him from across the kitchen. His hair was long and messy, his face rather pale and his heavy eyes were desperately trying to stay open, while he was shirtless yet comfortably looking in just his grey sweatpants.

'Pleaaaase?' you hopped over to him, 'I mean, you even look like him since you grew your hair out,' you grinned.

'What?' Sihtric blinked, dumbfounded, 'is that why you wanted me to grow my hair out again? So I could look like some… some random dude?'

'He's not some random dude, okay,' you said, annoyed, 'his name is Andrew.'

'Andrew? I thought his name was Hozier.'

'That's one of his names, and his stage name-'

'Andrew,' Sihtric scoffed, 'I don't look like Andrew,' he said, mocking the name.

'Siht,' you groaned and pouted, 'please, babe, please be my plus one to the show?'

Sihtric sighed as he stirred his coffee, then raked his fingers through his loose hair and shuffled to the couch while he was still waking up.

It was a Sunday morning, the last day of the year. Your boyfriend was trying to deal with his hangover from the previous night of going out drinking, and getting awfully close to that Mc Donald's he was banned from, while you had been going on and on about some concert as soon as he had opened his eyes half an hour ago.

'Why do you want to go and see that Andrew guy so badly anyway?' he asked as he sat down on your couch.

'Because,' you plunged down next to him, 'he's my favourite artist and I won free tickets. Free! I never win anything and now I won two tickets! Come on, it will be fun. You know the music and you said you even liked it-'

'Honey,' Sihtric interrupted and rubbed his forehead as a headache taunted him, 'just because we bang to his music doesn't mean I enjoy the music. You really think I actually pay attention to the music when I'm railing you?'

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes.

'Look, the show is until eleven, so we're home by midnight again and we can even stop by Mc Donald's. You have two options, we're either going to see Hozier's new year's eve show together, or we spend the entire evening at my parents' house. And you know how much my mom loves you-'

'Fine!' Sihtric huffed, 'I'll be your plus one.'

'Yay!' you squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss his cheek, 'but we still have to stop by my parents before we go to the show.'

'Oh, come on!'

Much to your mother's disgrace, you and Sihtric had been a couple for almost a year now. Every time she saw your boyfriend she had flashbacks to that time she walked in on him in your bedroom, while he was on your bed with his legs spread, completely naked, after which she had fainted. And to make everything even worse, Sihtric had indeed gotten your name tattooed on his body, just like he had told your mother before she ran out of the house that same day. You had been rather shocked at the sudden reveal of your name on the front of his left hip, one of the few spots he hadn't fully inked yet by then, but you had known Sihtric for quite some time and knew he was as impulsive as he was smitten with you. So you had just accepted the fact that you'd see your own name whenever you'd get down on your knees for him, which was rather often, and you grew to love the idea that you had sort of claimed him that way. And Sihtric was proudly showing off your name on his body too whenever he took a shirtless mirror selfie for his instagram, pushing his boxers down just far enough.

Your mother already wasn't Sihtric's biggest fan since she first met him, at the wedding of your aunt and uncle when you only pretended to be a couple, but she thought he looked even more like the savage that he was, according to her, when he grew out his hair over time. She thought he was "alright" when he had it braided or tied back, but she couldn't stop giving him disapproving looks when he just had it loose. And unfortunately for your mother, it was your favourite look, so when you visited them before going to the concert, his hair was loose and looking rather wild as the wind had blown through his locks when he got out of the car.

When you visited your parents to wish them an early happy new year, your mother couldn't stop glaring at Sihtric, as she felt like he had put in no effort whatsoever to try and look decent. You noticed she was giving Sihtric the side eye the entire time you were there. Her left eye twitched at the sight of his hair and his half unbuttoned black blouse, which showed off his Mjölnir pendant, the tattoos on his chest and also those on his arms, as he had the sleeves rolled up. She shuddered at the sight of his black skinny jeans and the way he was manspreading right across from her, which made her think of that awful time she walked in on him, and she swallowed hard at the thought of what a creature like him would do to her innocent daughter. His black leather boots with the untied laces was something she just sighed and rolled her eyes to, and the way he was eating all the snacks that were placed on the salon table made her feel sick, for she still thought he ate like a pig, and she wasn't completely wrong about the eating part. She excused herself to the bathroom, and as your father was occupied by watching a Rolling Stones concert on tv, you looked at your boyfriend who sat beside you.

'Sihtric,' you hissed quietly as you kicked his ankle, 'stop shoving down the food like that.'

'Like what?' Sihtric asked, offended, with his mouth full while he held two more slices of bread in one hand and a cheese spread in his other, 'I'm hungry, babe.'

'You're always hungry,' you sighed, 'how you are keeping your body in shape is simply beyond me.'

'It's because of the lots of sex with you,' Sihtric shrugged, which unfortunately your mother heard as she had entered the room again and froze.

'Oh,' you gasped when you saw her, then coughed, 'I- I…,' you cleared your throat awkwardly while Sihtric stuffed his mouth once again, and you decided to get yourself a drink.

'Can you pour me some wine, honey?' Sihtric asked, again with his mouth full.

'No, you can't drink,' you said, 'you're driving.'

'What?' Sihtric scoffed, 'you mean I have to endure that Andrew guy and I can't even drink?'

'You know very well that I hate driving in the dark, babe,' you smiled and blew him a kiss, then poured him some water instead of the wine he asked and longed for.

'Andrew?' your mother frowned.

'Hozier, mom. Sihtric is just jealous of some guy I can never have,' you said as you made your way back to Sihtric.

'Hozier,' your mother said as she followed and sat down, 'I have heard of him. Didn't he have that song about Church?'

'Yes,' you nodded.

'A fine Christian man,' your mother smiled, satisfied that her daughter listened to such decent music.

Sihtric looked up and furrowed his brow.

'Honey, isn't that song about-'

'A fine Christian man,' you agreed as you kicked Sihtric's ankle again. Your mother did not need to know the truth about that song.

'Yes, he is,' your mother continued, 'I saw him on tv the other day, what a handsome man.'

'He is,' you agreed, 'hey, mom? Don't you think Sihtric looks a little like Hozier?'

Your mother stared at your savage looking boyfriend, who sat back and rubbed his stomach with a proud smile after he just finished the last snack that was on the table. She looked him up and down and made a face as she noticed the similar hair and his facial hair.

'No,' she lied curtly and then looked straight at the tv, 'ah, the Rolling Stones,' she changed the topic and nudged your father, who hadn't heard a single word of the conversation.

'Well,' you said and got up, 'we better get going. We still need to drive to the venue for the show.'

You walked up to your parents to give them a hug and wished them a happy new year. And as you went to grab your coat out of the hallway, Sihtric shook hands with your dad, who gave him a smile and a nod, and he then pulled your mother in for a tight hug, to which she almost yelped. Sihtric squeezed her in his arms with a grin and then pressed a long kiss to her cheek, and when he leaned back to see her reaction he noticed she had turned pale.

'Happy new year, mommy,' Sihtric winked, and your mother quickly grabbed onto the armrest of her chair when she felt herself on the verge of fainting again and dare she say; feeling violated at the touch of him.

'Crap,' you hissed when you stepped inside the venue.

The place was packed, which wasn't a surprise, as Hozier only played sold out venues you knew. But you had no idea it would be this crowded already when the support act was still on stage, and Sihtric frowned when he saw the disappointment on your face. He was content with the spot you were both in; it was close to the bar and he could see more of the stage than he really wanted, but when he lowered himself to look from your eye level he understood you couldn't see a thing. He looked at the bar, which was on his right, and back to you on his left, and then he sighed. He circled his arm around your waist and pulled you in so you could hear him over the music.

'Don't give me that face, sweetheart,' he said in your ear and took your hand, 'let me get a drink first, okay?'

Sihtric held your hand as he looked at the list of non-alcoholic drinks and he pouted slightly at the sight of it, to which you sighed and nudged his elbow.

'Fine, I'll drive us back home so you can have a beer or two.'

'Or five,' Sihtric mumbled.

'What?' you yelled.

'One day I'll make you my wife,' Sihtric yelled back and gave you a hug.

He ordered three beers, which he could barely carry without spilling, and one water for you. He quickly downed one beer and you already knew you were in for a night. Sihtric held his arm out to you and you grabbed onto his bicep, and he guided you further into the crowd, closer to the stage, until you told him you could see everything quite good. 

When the support act was over, and Sihtric already finished his second beer, he noticed he got quite some attention from both men and women in the surrounding crowd. At first he thought he was already tipsy and was just imagining things, but then you noticed it too and you couldn't hold your laugh when you saw his confused face.

'I told you,' you chuckled, 'you look like Hozier with your hair down like this. And your facial hair doesn't help either.'

'Is that why people are looking at me?'

'I'm pretty sure that's the reason, yep,' you grinned and wrapped your arms around him as he took the first sip of his last beer. 'They can look,' you said, your lips grazed his ear, 'but you're all mine,' you bit his ear lightly and gave his ass a quick squeeze, to which Sihtric almost choked on his drink.

'Hey, easy,' he coughed and placed his hand on the side of your neck, then leaned in, 'or I'm dragging you back to my car.'

'To do what?' you taunted as you moved your hands under his half open blouse.

You bit down on your lip and gave him an innocent, questioning look while you trailed your hands up and down his muscular, tattooed chest.

'You know I'm always hungry,' Sihtric smirked, 'and you know you're my favourite meal.'

'Oh, really?' you smiled.

'Really,' Sihtric smiled back, and he pulled your lips onto his.

You were both too caught up with each other to even care that everyone around you was probably disgusted by the way you devoured each other, and you only broke the kiss because you heard the crowd cheer and noticed the lights went out. You quickly turned to face the stage and left Sihtric hanging, and he already held a grudge to your favourite artist for that alone. Regardless, Sihtric wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled your back against his chest, and he enjoyed the rest of his beer while you looked at the stage.

You held your breath when you heard the melody to De Selby (part 1) and you screamed your lungs out with the rest of the crowd when Hozier played De Selby (part 2) right after. Sihtric shook his head lightly at the fact you screamed at the sight of a man that wasn't him, but his mind got carried away when he suddenly recognized the song that was being played. You didn't see Sihtric's sly smile behind you when he remembered the melody of the song that had been playing only a few days ago, in his kitchen, when you stayed over at his place. He remembered hearing the beat vaguely in the background while his head was between your thighs and his tongue dragging the sweetest sounds out of you. He got lost in his thoughts for a song or two, happily remembering all the intimate and sexy moments he had shared with you, until he got pulled back into the moment when he suddenly recognized another song; From Eden.

Something so wholesome about you…

Get closer to me…

Sihtric pulled you closer against him, feeling your hips sway lightly to the beat, and he smiled again as he buried his face in your neck, leaving soft kisses on your skin while you enjoyed the music. You didn't mind Sihtric was basically touching you up while you were watching and listening to your favourite musician. You loved the fact that the music you were now hearing live, with your boyfriend's arms around you, was tied to your most vulnerable moments with him, and it was simply a special and wholesome moment for you. And when To Be Alone was played you turned to face Sihtric, who had finally finished his last drink, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

'Dance with me,' you said in his ear, and he gladly obeyed.

Sihtric placed his hands on your waist and leaned his forehead against yours, following your lead as you slowly moved your feet to the beat. You slow danced to the tune that filled the arena, and when Sihtric heard the words to the chorus he smiled when another memory played in his head.

It feels so good, girl, it feels so good…

Oh, to be alone with you…

'Do you remember this one?' you smiled as your lips grazed his ear again.

'How could I forget?' Sihtric chuckled, and his hands moved down to your buttocks, 'the way you sucked me off during that roadtrip while this song played was out of this world.'

You gave him a cheeky smile and ran your hands over his tattooed chest again, up his neck, and you pushed yourself up your tiptoes to kiss his lips. 

The first half of the concert was just perfect, and Sihtric wasn't really bothered being there either as he enjoyed the memories and seeing you smile. Until he noticed it became harder to draw your attention, and he stared at Hozier for a good few minutes with an unamused look on his face. He hated that he now sort of began to understand what you meant when you told him he kind of looked like Hozier. The hair was right, but just not as long, and his facial hair got close to that of the Irish singer too. Sihtric was tall, but Hozier was undeniably taller, which didn't bother him really because he knew he was way more muscular than that guy with his guitar. Sihtric felt himself become bitter with each cheer you gave the guy, and soon he started to roll his eyes and fake yawn every time Hozier did or said something that made the arena scream their lungs out, which included you. Sihtric just wasn't impressed anymore, he was hungry. He was hungry for you… and for some Mc Donald's. 

While you enjoyed the rest of the show Sihtric took out his phone and kept one arm around you, wanting to keep you close and also out of fear that you'd run to the stage and climb that tree of a man up there. He did a quick google search and saw that the Mc Donald's on the way back home was open past midnight, even on new year's eve, and he already couldn't wait to get out of the venue and order dozens of nuggets. But when Sihtric saw the time, he realised he had at least another half hour of watching the love of his life look at that Andrew dude with hearts in her eyes, and he just wasn't having it. 

He became rather oblivious to the music, which was also what always happened whenever you two were intimate while the music played, and you felt his hands roam over your body. You enjoyed his warm touch and the feeling of his lips on your neck and shoulders, all while you kept your eyes on the other long haired man in front of you, and a quick fantasy of a threesome made your knees weak. It was only when you felt Sihtric's hand slide up under your skirt that you suddenly snapped back to reality and turned around.

'Babe,' you chuckled, 'what are you doing? We're in public.'

'Then let's get out of here,' Sihtric murmured in your ear, 'hm? Let's fuck in my car, honey bun.'

'What? No! The show's not over yet.'

You gave him a confused look and attempted to turn around, but Sihtric stopped you and grabbed your face, gently.

'I'll give you a show,' he said before he kissed you hard.

'Honey,' you laughed and took a slight step back, 'I know you will. But the concert is almost over, okay? We'll leave right away. Just let me enjoy this.'

You turned your back to Sihtric, who huffed and clenched his jaw while he glared at the man on stage. He wrapped his arms around you again and held you firmly pressed against his chest as his lips found your ear.

'You keeping those heels on for me tonight, bunny?' he husked.

You shook your head and rolled your eyes at his desperate attempt for attention, but you were determined to see this show til the very end, so you didn't respond. Which only riled your infamous boyfriend up even more. He trailed his hand down your arm, took your hand and guided it behind your back. He pressed the palm of your hand against his crotch, where you felt his hardening cock.

'Keep looking at that guy,' he almost hissed in your ear, 'but remember it'll be my name tonight which you'll scream, sweetheart,' he grinded slowly against your hand as he held it in place, and he squeezed your hip with his other, 'it'll be my hair you will be pulling-'

'Sihtric,' you sighed and gave him a light shove, 'baby, please, I just want to enjoy the concert. Yes, I want you too, but not right now, I mean… come on,' you cocked your head towards the stage, towards Hozier.

You scoffed and shrugged before you turned your back to him again, and Sihtric cursed silently at the guy who kept stealing your attention away from him. 

And even when the show was finally over, Sihtric was still in a mood.

'I can't believe it's always a nightmare to get out of the parking lot,' you groaned behind the wheel of Sihtric's car.

Sihtric didn't reply, he just sat with his arms crossed next to you as he stared out of the window. And to make it worse, you switched on the radio and decided to play some more Hozier. Sihtric huffed and switched off the radio, to which you rolled your eyes and switched it back on again. The on and off game continued for a few long seconds until you had enough.

'Sihtric!' you snarled and switched the music on again, 'stop it!'

'It's my car, sweetheart,' he hissed and pressed it off again.

'You've got to be kidding me,' you muttered as you pressed the on button, and you slapped his hand when Sihtric tried to switch the music off again. 'Stop being such a baby!'

'You're a baby,' Sihtric mumbled.

'Gods, are you drunk?'

'No.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'Then you have no excuse for this childish behaviour.'

'Oh, sorry I'm not a real man, like Andrew.'

'So that's what this is,' you scoffed, 'you're not seriously jealous of a musician, are you?'

Sihtric kept his eyes locked on the blocked parking lot exit and he didn't say a word.

'Sihtric!' you chuckled, albeit annoyed, 'answer me.'

'I saw the way you looked at him,' he huffed.

'For the love of… Siht,' you took his hand, 'yes, I think Hozier is handsome, and… sure, I wouldn't mind a night with him,' you giggled, to which Sihtric clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils, 'along with you, obviously,' you added.

'A threesome?' Sihtric made a disgusted face, 'with Andrew? The fuck not. But, yeah, I'm in a mood because of him. And I'm hungry. Happy now?'

You snorted at his confession and turned up the volume when the next Hozier song started to play through the speakers. And when after several minutes there was still no movement in the rather dark and packed parking lot, Sihtric took a deep breath and unbuckled his seat belt.

'That's it,' he snarled, and he suddenly reached for the handle under your seat, which he pulled and with one swift move he pushed your seat back as far as he could.

'Sihtric?!' you yelped as you felt yourself rush backwards in your seat, and before you could even blink you felt your seatbelt loosen after Sihtric had unbuckled it, 'what are you doing?!'

'Getting what I want,' he growled while he climbed over to your side and knelt down in front of your seat.

'What-' you were interrupted as Sihtric quickly pushed the backrest of your chair down as far as possible, and before you could ask what was going on, you felt his warm, rough hands move up your thighs and push your skirt up. He then grabbed your legs and pulled you closer.

'Babe!' you giggled with wide eyes when Sihtric pulled your panties down. 

You were glad it was raining outside so the windows were rather blurred. And you immediately surrendered when you felt his tongue delve between your folds, pleasing and teasing you in all the right ways, and your hands moved automatically into his long hair as you closed your eyes and enjoyed your boyfriend as well as the music.

You moaned and cursed under your breath when you felt your climax built, as your savage looking boyfriend devoured you in his car while Hozier was blasting through the speakers.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby…

I'd never want once from the cherry tree…

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be…

'Fuck,' you breathed, 'Siht, please,' you moaned and pulled his hair.

'That's right,' Sihtric breathed and locked your thighs tighter with his strong arms, 'say my fucking name, bunny,' he growled and brought his lips back on you again.

'Gods, f-fuck,' you cried as he pushed you over the edge, and his name fell from your lips like a prayer.

You tried to catch your breath while you looked down into Sihtric's eyes, who gave you a satisfied and cocky look. He then wiped his lips with his thumb and licked it clean before he leaned in to give you a passionate kiss. He quickly dressed you decently again and moved back to the passenger seat. He put your backrest back up and pulled the handle under your seat to pull you back towards the wheel again, and he sat back in his seat while you still tried to catch your breath. He took a sip of water from the bottle he kept in his car and cleared his throat.

'The traffic cleared, you can drive, love,' Sihtric said, as if nothing had happened.

'Y-yeah,' you panted and grabbed his water bottle for a sip too, then you started the car.

'Hey,' Sihtric said before you hit the gas, and he took your chin, 'I love you, baby,' he almost whispered.

'I love you too, honey,' you smiled shyly.

'Good,' he smiled and pecked your lips, 'wanna stop by Mc Donald's for me, doll?'

'Of course, baby,' you said and pinched his cheek, 'if you promise to behave.'

'I promise, love.'

'Why did you drive by that Mac?!' Sihtric startled you as he suddenly raised his voice, and with disbelief he watched the glowing M pass by, 'babe?!'

'Really?' you hissed, 'that's the one you're banned from!'

Sihtric looked back at the restaurant and realised you were right, and he decided to not respond, so he just cleared his throat and sat in silence while you took a detour to a different Mc. You pulled up at the drive through intercom, and before you could speak Sihtric already leaned over to your side and nearly hung out of the window to order his beloved chicken nuggets.

'Ah, I'm sorry, sir,' the intercom voice said, to which you buried your face in your hands, 'we're out of nuggets. But I can offer you the chicken burg-'

'No!' Sihtric shouted, 'it's not the same!'

'Honey, please-'

'Sir-'

'I want my goddamn- you just wait!' he yelled, then paused as he started to take off his seatbelt.

'Babe!' you yelled, 'what are you doing?!'

'Getting my fucking nuggets!' Sihtric yelled as he kicked open his car door.

'Sir, we don't have any-'

'Baby, no!' you shouted, but he didn't hear you as he slammed the door shut and stalked to the restaurant entrance.

You quickly unbuckled your belt, 'I'm so sorry,' you said towards the intercom as you jumped out of the car and ran after Sihtric, who was already halfway across the parking lot.

You managed to grab his arm in time and pulled him away before he could set foot inside.

'Sihtric, think!' you said firmly, 'you want to get banned here too?!'

'I want my chicken!'

'I know! But they don't have it! Come on, please,' you groaned and pulled him back to the car, 'please, just… get in the car and I'll drive back to the other one.'

Sihtric cursed as you pulled him back to his car, then shouted something at the driver behind you who had honked, and you mouthed an 'I'm sorry' to the driver before you got in the car again.

'You really need to work on your anger issues,' you snarled as you backed up and drove back to the mainroad.

'And they really need to work on their food stock!'

'Be quick, it's only ten minutes until midnight,' Sihtric said when you parked at the Mc Donald's he was banned from.

'I will. But I can't promise you any nuggets, okay?' you said as you grabbed your purse, 'and stay in the car!'

'Yeah, yeah,' Sihtric said impatiently.

He enjoyed the sight of your ass when you got out of the car and he was quick to give you a firm slap before you closed the door. You glared back at him as you walked to the entrance, and Sihtric waited anxiously as you disappeared into the restaurant. It seemed to take forever for you to reappear again, when in reality it had only been a few minutes, and he nervously bit his nails while he waited. When the silence became too much he switched on the radio, and Hozier blasted through the speakers again as your phone was apparently still close enough to reach the signal.

'Fucking guy,' Sihtric huffed and switched the radio off again, then grabbed his phone.

Sihtric: get me a milkshake too baby girl???

You: strawberry?

Sihtric: please xxxx

Sihtric stared at his phone and saw the minutes pass by, and there still was no sight of you coming back. There were only a few minutes left before midnight now, and he would lose his mind if you weren't by his side when the clock struck 12.

Sihtric: hurry baby it's almost midnight

You: I know, it's busy here I'm sorry

Sihtric: hurryyy

Sihtric: I need my midnight kiss :( 

Sihtric: and nuggets…

Sihtric babyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!

His heart stopped when he saw the clock turn to 00:00. Sihtric then looked up at the entrance, which you walked out of as soon as fireworks were set off in the surrounding neighbourhoods, and he watched you in awe as you neared his car. You seemed to move in slow motion for a moment, and his jaw dropped at the sight of you; your hips swaying as you walked, holding a milkshake in one hand while you held up a big box of chicken nuggets in your other, all while fireworks exploded in the sky above you. And Sihtric thought it was the most magical thing he had ever seen.

You jumped in the car and quickly handed Sihtric his order while he still stared at you with big eyes, and then you grabbed his face and kissed his lips.

'Happy new year, darling,' you whispered as you smiled against his lips.

'Happy new year, my love,' Sihtric murmured before he kissed you again, and then he turned his attention to the box of freshly fried nuggets in his lap.

'Happy now?' you chuckled when you saw his smile.

'Very,' he said and kissed your cheek, then offered you his milkshake, which you gladly accepted.

You both sat in his car at the Mc Donald's parking lot, watching the fireworks explode up in the air as you held hands. You sat in silence for a moment while Sihtric finally ate his nuggets and you enjoyed his milkshake. Then you switched the radio on again, and as expected, Hozier played once again but this time Sihtric didn't seem to mind it.

'It's so beautiful, baby,' Sihtric whispered after a moment.

'I know, love,' you smiled as you stared up at the fireworks.

But then you looked over at your boyfriend, and your smile faded as a look of disappointment took over when you saw he was staring at his chicken nuggets, and you swore he wiped a tear as he looked at his food.

'So perfect,' he whispered and squeezed your hand as he dipped a nugget in the curry sauce before eating it.

You decided to not say anything and you looked back up again, out the window, enjoying the fireworks. Until Sihtric suddenly held a nugget in front of you.

'You want one?' he asked.

'Really?' you asked, and felt yourself tear up at the fact that he suddenly shared his precious chicken nuggets with you, 'thank you,' you smiled and ate the chicken, then leaned over to his side to rest your head on his shoulder.

'You're welcome,' he said, his mouth stuffed with nuggets.

'I love you.'

'I love you more.'

'How much more?'

'More than chicken nuggets, sweetheart,' he said softly.

'Really?' you frowned and looked up at him.

'Really,' he smiled and kissed your forehead.

'Well,' you chuckled, 'I love you more than Hozier.'

'Really?'

'Really, babe.'

'I fucking knew it,' Sihtric said and gave you a cocky smile, 'that Andrew guy has got nothing on me.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @liandav @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #hozier #modern!sihtric

[tazzertopia]

phantom troupe: do they snore?

this idea for phantom troupe hcs came to me randomly at 2:00am last night so enjoy xoxo

chrollo

-probably not unexpected but not really

-he’s generally a super quiet sleeper

-the loudest he ever is in his sleep is breathing loudly on occasion

-his lack of snoring is most likely attributed by the fact he’s a very light sleeper

-he’s one of those bitches who will wake up because the whistling of the wind was slightly louder than usual

uvogin

-his ass sounds like a heavy metal concert when he sleeps

-his snores are earth-shaking. ear-splitting. pain-inducing.

-his snores single handedly contribute to noise pollution

-think of how loud your dad snores and x1000

-if the troupe members have to share a room at any point during a mission, they will throw a whole rock paper scissors tournament to see who’s taking one for the team and sacrificing their sleep (it’s usually nobunaga)

-because covering his mouth with a sock doesn’t stop the snoring, the troupe have an emergency weighted blanket on standby

-the complete opposite of chrollo, this man could sleep in an active war zone and and not budge an inch (in other words you cannot wake his ass up by force to get him to stop snoring so the only option is to wait it out or sleep somewhere else)

pakunoda

-the most silent sleeper ever

-not even a peep from miss pakunoda

-the ideal person to share a bed with. she doesn’t snore, her breathing is inaudible and she’s extremely still

-almost unnerving in a way bc she looks dead when she sleeps

-if you were to share a bed with her you’d probably spend most of the night checking her pulse to ensure she is actually alive and breathing

phinks

-he’s one of those people who when he snores the buildup is super loud but he exhales quietly (i hope that makes sense)

-ljke the buildup is super dragged out like hhhHhhhhhhUUUHHHUUUH but the exhale is just hoooooooo !!

-idk how to express snoring via text so you may have to act it out to know what i mean

-honestly this type of snoring is arguably worse than uvogin’s bc at least his is consistent whereas phinks will give you hope that he’s finally stopped snoring until it starts up again ☹️☹️😢

-he will forever deny he snores tho

feitan

-comedic ass snore

-probably snores like mimimimimimimimi zzzzzzzzz 😴💤😴💤😴💤

-he sleeps like he should be wearing a night cap and a long night gown with a candle on his bedside table

-trying not to piss yourself laughing while he’s snoring if you’re still awake is an olympic level sport

-one time shalnark recorded him while he was snoring and showed it to him (when he was down with him, he ensured the recording was eradicated from his phone)

-ik realistically he would probably be a silent sleeper but the idea of him sounding like a whole cartoon character is actually hilarious to me

shalnark

-sleep? WHAT’S THAT? 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣 (get it because he’s the tech whiz so he probably stays up all night gaming lololololol XDD)

-probably a loud ass mouth breather

-like he sounds like a broken ventilator sometimes

-he sounds like he ran a lap around mt everest before bed why is he so loud

-if you pissed him off during the day he would probably amp up the volume on his breathing to prevent you from sleeping well (now we’re both mad xx)

shizuku

-for the most part very quiet

-occasionally she will jumpscare you awake by randomly snoring out of no where

-like you’ll wake up to this loud ass noise only to realise it was just shizuku

-sometimes she’ll wake up aswell and accuse you of snoring

-aside from that pretty quiet- not as ideal to share a bed with as pakunoda but fine for the most part as long as you don’t mind surprises

nobunaga

-i feel like he’d have one of those super low growly snores ???????

-like those low, shaky ones

-the ones that kinda sound like grunts

-idk if i’m making sense so i pray i am 🙏

-they’re not that bad tho bc they’re quiet enough to not keep you awake and are low-key kinda relaxing

-if you’re gonna share a bed with anyone who snores, it’s nobunaga

machi

-another generally quiet sleeper except for occasionally sighing in her sleep

-from time to time she’ll just go like huhhhhhhhh :// and then will go back to being quiet again

-don’t bring it up the next day tho bc she WILL deny it and seem embarrassed

-you can tell when she’s having a nice dream based on how often she sighs

franklin

-surprisingly quiet

-you wouldn’t expect his oversized enormous ass to be quiet but he is

-similar to chrollo, the most you’re getting out of him is some occasionally loud breathing

-aside from that he’s a quiet sleeper

bonolenov

-i feel like bc of the holes in his body he’d probably make a whistling sound in his sleep

-like a pan flute

-not the worst tho bc like nobunaga it’s low high key relaxing

-free asmr what could be better xxx

kortopi

-quiet as hell

-are we really surprised

-sorry to the two kortopi fans out there but i can’t be bothered to think of anything to add on he’s just quiet

another tazzertopia classic 💯💯💯💯 if you like these hc posts pls give me requests (idk if the ask box is visible on my profile but do it through here or via the comments) bc these are super fun, i can also do other characters too !!! if i do more i might start doing them for other shows anyways bye xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

#hunter x hunter #hxh #phantom troupe #chrollo #phinks magcub #pakunoda #machi komacine #shizuku murasaki #feitan #shalnark #nobunaga hazama #uvogin #hxh headcanons #hxh x reader #phantom troupe brainrot is eating me alive #give me suggestions pretty please with a cherry on top xx