#I want to write something for his birthday

[adollrable]

Under the same moon.

✧ summary: where it's your birthday and your boyfriend is on a mission far from home.

✧ cw: female reader x leon kennedy (re4r), fluff, just him being a cutie pie and the boyfiest boyfie ever (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿

✧ wc: 1387

a/n: I'M SCARED, this is my first time writing something COMPLETELY in english so... if something looks kinda silly forgive me 😞 english is not my first language but feel free to give me feedback!

my birthday was two days ago and i kinda want it to write something so, if someone is reading this on their birthday, happy birthday!!! 🤲🏻

11:45 PM. You were pacing around your apartment. Brushing your teeth, doing your skin care routine, pulling out the softest cotton sheets you have at your disposal.

You looked at the calendar that sat on the nightstand next to your bed, your eyes drifting towards the next day's date. Your birthday.

You weren't that excited, the printed number that indicated your day of birth wasn't marked with a red marker that circled it. The date Leon would return was.

Originally, your boyfriend's absence wouldn't interfere with your birthday. He would be with you on your special day. But you thought back to the call you had with him a few days ago, with him trying to get a signal to tell you that he couldn't make it on time and that he was really sorry.

You understand. It doesn't bother you, but you wish he was by your side now.

His job was complicated, and he explained that he couldn't tell you much from it. As far as you know, he's in Spain, rescuing someone. You don't know who, but it must be someone important.

11:55 PM. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until another return to the sun happens for you.

You laid down on your bed, covered by the sheets that hugged your body. You took the pillow that Leon usually uses and wrapped both arms around it, seeking comfort to avoid missing him so much.

Tomorrow would be just another day. Sure, your friends will congratulate you, you will receive calls from your family at extremely early hours of the morning, and you will repeat "thank you, I appreciate it" like a broken recorder for each call and message.

Gifts don't matter, much less a cake, or a party. The only thing you want is for the love of your life to return soon and you can be together.

Rolling between thoughts, you were able to fall asleep.

12:00 PM. Finally your birthday.

Your cellphone vibrated with every message that one of your friends or your family sent you congratulations. The light from the device breaks into your not-so-deep sleep, since not even ten minutes had passed since you closed your eyes.

Sheet off you, you stopped hugging the pillow and with a soft grunt reached for your phone, checking notifications with squinted eyes.

You lowered the brightness of your cell phone because of that annoying burning in your eyes and now with more comfort, you wandered around the notifications you had, until one caught your attention completely.

Leon ♡: "Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much."

A smile began to form on your face, and without hesitation you unlocked your cell phone to answer him.

Thanks, Lee :( I miss you and I love you

You weren't expecting a response, after all, he must be busy, right? In Spain it must have been your birthday hours ago, but he still bothered to wait for it to come where you are.

Leon ♡: I miss you too, how have you been?

You didn't think he would have time to respond, but you also didn't want to spend three days without hearing from him, so you took advantage of the opportunity.

I've been fine... I haven't done much, just work and back home :( how about you?

Leon ♡: Tired, but all good. Missing you most of all the time. Tell me, have you done anything interesting?

Does missing you count? :[

Leon ♡: Yeah, it counts, sweet thing. I want to tell you something, okay? But let me call you first.

The fact that he was going to call you made you feel good, he may not be with you on your birthday and he is supposed to arrive days later, but one call is enough to lift your spirits.

You were going to answer but your screen lit up with your boyfriend's contact name and the buttons to answer or hang up the call. You pressed the green button and put it on speaker, placing your phone on your chest with a smile. "Hi..."

"Hello, birthday girl." His voice... You could spend hours listening to him speak, even if he was talking about the most boring topic in the world, you would pay attention from start to finish. "How's my baby doing?"

You giggled, there really wasn't much to say, your birthday had started less than an hour ago, "No crazy, exciting party... My friends have congratulated me, as has my family. My parents must be asleep at this time, so I guess when they wake up they'll call me."

"Yeah, they must be resting at this time, huh. You should, too. It's only because of your birthday that you stay up so late." He answered and you could hear his smirk over the phone, making you blush slightly.

"Of course not... I can sleep late whenever I want." And even if you wanted to, you know it's not possible. Once you get home from work and settle into your boyfriend's arms to sleep, you fall deeply into the arms of Morpheus. It's hard not to sleep well when you have a giant boyfriend pillow. "I can't sleep without you here."

"I know, baby, I know... I can't sleep without my sweet girl hugging me like a damn teddy bear." He chuckled and you did it too. Both of you fell into a small silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. "Hey, baby?" He began, as you settled into the sheets.

"Mhm?" You asked, as you looked at the moon through your bedroom window. Her brilliance seeped in and was strong and radiant.

Watching the moon always gave you a certain comfort, knowing that no matter where Leon is, both of you will always be under the same moon and firmament of stars.

A laugh came through the speaker of your cell phone, the same laugh that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Did you see how beautiful the moon is?"

You smiled, humming a small "mhm" in response, before adding, "Yeah... It's full and very pretty. I wish you were here to watch it together."

Leon let out a small sigh, "Yeah, me too, what if you ask the moon for that?" You chuckled this time. It was a silly thing to do, but, why not?

"Like a birthday wish? But if you know it then it won't come true." Leon could hear the pout in your voice, and he smiled to himself. "Maybe there will be an exception this time." He murmured. "Come on, babe. Do it."

With your eyes closed, you let out a sigh, wishing with all your being that Leon could be by your side as soon as possible, and after a few seconds, you heard him speak, "Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I did... Time to wait I guess." Your gaze met that radiant crater that was seen in its maximum splendor, until something began to click in your head.

"Did you see how beautiful the moon is?" There is supposed to be approximately six hours between your location and Spain, so it was impossible for Leon to see the moon shining in its entirety, but you tried not to give too much thought to the matter, since the moon can also be seen during the day, although at lower exposure.

But if he talked about the moon... And how big it looked... That could mean that maybe he...

"The stars look very bright too." He added after.

"But, you know what I think is more bright?" He began, while his footsteps were heard on the cement, signaling that he had begun to walk.

Until he stopped.

"The brightest thing I'm going to see is your face when you look out the window."

That made you get up from your bed, phone in hand while with clumsy steps thanks to the sheets rolled up between your legs, you reached the window and realized everything.

He is here.

And when he saw that look light up on your face, he knew that the moon was nothing compared to how radiant you looked. "Hey, birthday girl."

It seems like the moon was the perfect alibi for Leon to sneak in and surprise you.

Or simply the moon heard your wishes, and fulfilled them on your special day.

a/n: OKAY... I'M STILL NERVOUS I PUT THIS ON THREE DIFFERENT GRAMMAR CHECKERS BUT I'M STILL AFRAID i suck at writing tbh but this idea was scratching my brain and i thought Hmm why not SO!!! i hope y'all like it :] i appreciate likes and reblogs annnnnd comments i love comments!!! feel free to give me tips to be better at writing or something THAT'S ALL BYE-BYE 🤲🏻

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon kennedy fic #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy re4r #um... yeah first time writing KINDA NERVOUS #i love this guy

[angelicsoka]

TWO WORLDS, j. drysdale

part one <3

word count | 0.8k

pairings | jamie drysdale x single mother!hughes!reader

summary | jamie finally meets the reader’s daughter, isla, and he has just the right thing to prove him worthy of her trust

warnings | not proofread. one use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | here’s part two to blind date! i cant wait to write more of jamie and isla, because they are literally so cute!!!

being a single mother and dating was never something you thought would work well together. well, that was until you met jamie drysdale. he had accepted from the first date that your daughter, isla, always came first. he had also accepted that it would take time for him to finally be introduced to isla, and he fully understood. he anticipated the day he would meet the little girl who your entire world revolved around. after about a month and a half of dating, you had finally decided it was time for your love to meet your baby girl.

jamie anxiously paced his shared apartment with trevor, mumbling to himself as he did so. trevor watched him from the couch, a small smile working its way onto his face. “jamie, dude, relax.” jamie glared at trevor before settling down on the couch beside him.

“z, what if she doesn’t like me?” jamie finally voiced his worries, trevor starting to laugh until he realized jamie was serious. “i really like y/n, and i really don’t want to mess this up.”

“isla will love you! i mean she adores me.” trevor tried to ease jamie’s nerves, but it didn’t do much. “look, if there is anyway to isla’s heart it’s frozen. the kid’s obsessed with it, i mean she literally had a frozen themed birthday party! if you want her to like you, you gotta listen to her talk about it. and trust me, she will talk about it.” jamie listened intently, a plan forming in his head.

a buzzing noise rang through your apartment as you rushed to the door to let jamie in. as he made his way up, you ran around, attempting to clean up the mess isla had decide to make just as jamie had text that he was on his way. “isla! dinner’s almost ready.” jamie knocked on your door, a smile creeping onto his face at the frazzled look on your face.

“hey, baby.” you smiled, kissing him lightly. “sorry for the mess. she found out you were coming over and got very excited.” jamie laughed as you let him in the apartment, taking the pizzas from his hands. “she just couldn't find the perfect dress to wear.” jamie looked around the homey apartment, toys scattered about. he walked further in, hands nervously tugging at the straps of his bag, taking in the comfort that was your apartment; he already felt at home.

“momma?” a voice spoke from down the hallway, a toddler appearing moments later. she had her thumb in her mouth, clearly nervous as she waddled toward you.

“hey, baby doll, there's someone i want you to meet.” you picked her up, walking over to jamie. “jamie meet my daughter, isla. isla, baby, this is mommy’s friend jamie!” jamie smiled kindly at the toddler, who buried her face in your neck as she smiled softly. “can you say hi, isla?”

“hi…” she spoke quietly, almost inaudible, taking a quick glance at jamie. 

“hi, isla, your momma’s told me a lot about you.” isla giggled softly at that, a smile building its way up to her face. “in fact, she told me about your favorite thing in the whole world: frozen.” jamie pulled his bag from off his shoulder, digging around until he found what he was looking for. he pulled out a two-pack doll set, which held elsa and anna, isla’s eyes widening when she saw it. she began to wiggle to get out of your arms, excitement in her eyes. “so, i got you this.” you put isla down, who made her way over to jamie, excited but still slightly cautious. 

you looked at jamie, shocked by his action. you knew he was nervous and wanted to impress her, but you hadn’t expected him to buy a thirty dollar toy for the first time he was going to be meeting her. “isla, love, what do you say?”

“thanks, ‘aime!” you smiled at your daughter as she hugged jamie’s legs, too quick for jamie to reciprocate. she took the toy, giving him a toothy smile before waddling off. 

“baby, why don’t we play with that after we eat, okay?” this seemed to frustrate isla, but she set the toy down nonetheless, taking the hand you offered. “you want to cheese or pepperoni?” 

“cheese.” she said, accepting the plate that held her slice of pizza on it.

“we’ll eat on the couch tonight, okay? we can watch a movie too.”

“frozen!” you laughed, looking to jamie who had been watching the two of you with love and awe. he snapped out of it, absentmindedly agreeing. “‘ome on, we gotta watch together!” isla grabbed jamie’s hand, pulling him to the couch. he looked back, a huge smile on his lips. 

you proceeded to grab pizza for both you and jamie, walking to join them on the couch. you set the plates down, grabbing your phone to take a picture of the sight in front of you: jamie was cutting isla’s pizza into smaller pieces as she rambled on and on about something. 

you smiled as he looked up, giving his pretty smile. in that moment, everything was perfect. 

#angelicsoka #nhl imagine #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale x hughes!sister #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #trevor zegras x reader

[chelseachilly]

hey!! it's officially been just over a year since i created this blog and wanted to do something as a little celebration of that. i never thought i would spend so much of my time thinking and reading about footballers but very grateful for the little community on here that's still obsessing and writing about my chelsea (and former chels) boys 💓

i do have some more fics of my own in the works (check out my masterlist to see the ones i've written so far) but in the meantime, i wanted to share some of my favourites i've read! this definitely isn't a complete list and i'm sure i'm forgetting some, but i hope you all enjoy this compilation of wonderful fics (it's mostly ben and mase but some others as well!)

ben chilwell 🩵

big news by @gagaslonina

therapy by @gagaslonina

support by @gagaslonina

the cursed last step by @carlottawllms

we'll be alright by @carlottawllms

come back stronger by @chilwellspulisic

forbidden to me by @neverinadream (18+)

my champion of europe by @babygirlbenji

that's my daddy by @babygirlbenji

snowflakes on the glass by @whorekneecentral (18+)

reunions and surprises by @tommyspeakycap

welcome to the family by @tommyspeakycap (18+)

mason mount 🤍

looking after you by @mountsmase

coming home to you by @mountsmase

mornings like this by @mountsmase (18+)

take the pain away by @pulisicsgirl

caring for you by @pulisicsgirl

breathe, you're okay by @pulisicsgirl

our life changing moment by @tsimvkas

easy with you by @carlottawllms (18+)

someone to you by @carlottawllms

the moment he knew by @carlottawllms

winter sun by @mountttmase (series, 18+)

always there by @mountttmase

home is where the heart Is + always meant to be (2-parter) by @mountttmase

ships in the night by @mountttmase

anytime you need me by @masonmtxo

thank your missus + part two by @masonmtxo

as well as every fic by @sid-vii, she's been reposting them on her new blog so i recommend you read them if you haven't already <3

christian pulisic 🩶

flustered assessments by @pulisicsgirl

sleepy by @pulisicsgirl

his girls by @pulisicsgirl

running home to your sweet nothings by @captainpulisic

is it cool that i said all that? by @captainpulisic

better with you by @tsimvkas

birthday surprise by @thoseboysinblue (18+)

be mine by @thoseboysinblue (18+)

cold hands by @thoseboysinblue (18+)

other footie boys 🖤

unauthorized posts by @gagaslonina (levi colwill)

summer getaway by @yellowkitkieran (andy robertson)

not just the physio by @tommyspeakycap (andy robertson)

feeling some type of way by @tommyspeakycap (andy robertson, 18+)

secret secrets by @gagaslonina (conor gallagher)

#ben chilwell x reader #mason mount x reader #christian pulisic x reader #pls lmk if any links are broken/incorrect as i put this together quite quickly!!

[bby-deerling]

nesting partners (penguin x reader)

happy birthday penguin!!! this was originally written for my sweet friend @queenmimi2817, but she has graciously allowed me to share this with all of you! <3

masterlist || commissions

cw: suggestive content, established relationship, fluff

tagging: @guilty-sugar @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts

As Penguin paces back and forth along the rocky beach for what must be the seventeenth time, Shachi sighs in annoyance.  “It’s just a rock, Pen, pick one already!” he complains, exasperated.  Penguin huffs and doesn’t respond, his eyes glued to the ground.  Despite his friend’s claim, this was not just a rock—it might be dorky and silly of him to be searching for the smoothest, most circular rock he can find, but after you had brought up the fact that real penguins propose to their mates with a carefully selected pebble, he just couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

And then he spots it in the corner of his eye, slightly darkened from a wave crashing over it.  It’s nearly spherical, and completely grey, with no dings or dents or discolorations; he knows, deep in his bones that this is the rock that’s meant for you, the one you deserve, that will demonstrate just how serious he is about you.  He holds it in the palm of his hand, smiling softly to himself while Shachi rolls his eyes from underneath his sunglasses; while he was happy for his friend and thought the two of you were a very cute couple, Penguin’s lovesickness admittedly drove him nuts at times, especially when his own love life was nothing to write home about by comparison.  As the pair makes their way up the beach, Penguin brimming with excitement and nerves, they spot your figure running towards them; Shachi waves you over while Penguin straightens his back and hides his hand behind his back, wanting to keep his gift for you a surprise.

But surprisingly, you beat him to the punch.

“I made something for you, Pen!” you exclaim, holding out a wide, flat rock in your hand.  The stone itself has imperfections, but you had adorned it with a tiny miniature painting of two penguins holding hands, with small pink hearts around them.  Penguin’s jaw drops in surprise, touched that you spent the time making him such a thoughtful gift.

“I love it—yours makes mine look a bit lame, though.” he says sheepishly as he holds out his own rock, despite the lack of a painted personal touch, you excitedly snatch it up all the same, marveling at just how smooth and round the pebble is.

“It’s perfect!  Thank you—I love you so, so much!” you say gleefully, throwing yourself into his arms and standing up on your toes to kiss him.  He accepts the affection readily, cupping your face and curling an arm around your waist as he pulls you closer and deepens the kiss, on cloud nine and without a care in the world—to the point that he seemingly forgets Shachi is still standing right beside the two of you.

“Gross.  I’m headed back to the inn.” he teases, though his jaw clenches in mild annoyance as he walks up the steep path towards the coastal lodging the crew was staying at.  However, as he realizes everyone else is hastily packing their belongings and heading back to the Polar Tang, his lips curl into a smirk as he resolves to mess with his two friends who were so obnoxiously smitten with each other—and so when Law asks him where the two of you are once he gets back to the submarine, Shachi simply shrugs.

“I told them we were leaving soon—they must not have been listening.” he laments with feigned annoyance as he attempts to hide the smirk on his face.  Impatient as usual, especially when trying to keep a strict time schedule, Law doesn’t wait much longer before disembarking and heading back towards the inn himself, with strict orders to the rest of the crew to stay in place and prepare for departure.

Though when he gets back to the inn and swings open Penguin’s door, a terse lecture on the tip of his tongue, he admittedly wasn’t prepared to see the two of you in such an intimate position, lips locked heatedly together; one of Penguin’s hands is grabbing at your breast while the other is around his cock, lining his head up with your entrance—that is, until you notice someone else is in the room with them, and you snap apart, a small scream of shock leaving both of your mouths.

“You two really couldn’t have done this back on the submarine?” Law asks, beyond exasperated; his tone is even, but a bright red flush creeps into his cheeks.

“Fuck—sorry, Captain!” Penguin squeaks out, his face burning red as he shoves his cock back into his boxers and zips his boiler suit up; you scramble to pull your shirt down and position the sheets over your lower half, heart racing with embarrassment from getting caught in the act.

“Don’t worry—I’m not looking.” Law says to you dryly as he rolls his eyes in an attempt to diffuse the situation, though he’s not quite sure if anything can make the awkwardness hanging in the air any less painful.  Eyes glued to the corner of the room while the two of you get dressed, he regains his composure and authoritative tone.  “We were supposed to depart an hour ago.  Shachi said that you guys knew and still didn’t show up.” he says, annoyed.

“Huh?  He didn’t say anything to either of us about that.” you say, confused and thankfully fully clothed as you tilt your head.

Law lets out a sigh as the pieces click together, irked that Shachi had pulled the wool over his eyes in order to mess with all three of you.  “I don’t care about your excuses, you should’ve been on the ship at half-past two.” he says stubbornly, scowling at both of you as you hurriedly shove all of your belongings into your bags.

The walk back to the Polar Tang is still tense and awkward, though Law tries to break up the thick tension in the air by asking about the rocks that both of you were fidgeting with.  Excitedly, your embarrassment washes away as you tell him all about the mating habits of penguins, and how now that the two of you have gotten rocks for each other, you’re now ‘penguin married’—whatever that means.

“Tch—you guys are dorks.” he chuckles in response as you board the submarine.  The three of you move to head towards your assigned stations, but Law’s voice stops both of you dead in your tracks.

“Penguin—” Law says, waving him over, silently dismissing you.

“Yes, Captain?” Penguin asks, a bit of hesitation in his voice.

“Use protection next time.  The last thing we need on the Polar Tang is a baby running around.” he says, attempting to keep a serious tone, but near the end of his statement he can’t hide the smug smirk that creeps onto his face, nor the small chuckle he lets out when Penguin turns beet red and mumbles an embarrassed “Yes, Captain.” under his breath.

#one piece x reader #penguin x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece drabble #one piece scenario #one piece penguin

[fire-lizard-ro]

Smol snippet because the angst hit me all of a sudden.

CW: mentions of death, mental fucking breakdown djxkd-, grief, angst, Sunday is sad :’’’’)), 2.0-2.1 spoilers.

(Disclaimer with a 2.2 trailer/livestream spoiler: I’m aware that she isn’t actually dead, but this is made in mind with Sunday who doesn’t know that.)

No mentioned gender for reader.

Writing under the cut (SFW):

“My baby, my baby. You’re my baby say it to me.”

Cradled in your arms he cannot even cry. He feels empty and lost. Sunday… what use is the name Sunday if there is no Robin to call after him? He failed her. Her, the one who shone so brightly in his life.

He can remember every birthday, every scrape, every “good morning” and “good night”. He can remember every “I love you”. Thinking about these memories, holding that light cone with a moment in time held so dear trapped within it’s frame- It fills the emptiness with something.

Sunday tightens his grip on you, fingers twisting in the back of your shirt as a silent sob wracks his body.

Anguish.

That is the name of the emotion that colors his empty insides with dark and dreary hues of blues and blacks; his heart with the color of life as it bleeds in her absence.

You pet the back of his head, holding him back just as tightly as he finally allows himself to fall apart in only the company of solitude and you. The seraph finally allows his wings to rest. The figurehead finally takes off the perfect mask.

“Why did it have to be her?” He can’t understand how this happened. How could his lovely, perfect sister be gone?

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, Sunday,” is all you can say. But that much is enough. He lets his tears wet your shoulder as he hides away from the reality of her death and the world. He’s grateful you’re here at least. In the back of his mind that’s fracturing and breaking to pieces, he wonders what he’d do if he didn’t even have you to hold him together. Would he fall apart? Lose himself entirely?

A dash of gratitude and love colors his bleakness in a splash of warm pinks and oranges- Like the sunset he watched with you in the dreamscape not too long ago.

She was everything before he met you. Being the older brother, she was like his first child. He can remember looking at her tiny, chubby face when she was still too young to talk, and thinking- “This is my baby sister.” He was supposed to take care of her- protect her.

Thinking of how someone killed her in cold blood and made those starlight eyes close forever… Deep reds formed.

Anger.

He would force the criminal into the light and bring about retribution for their evil.

“Will you help me?”

He asked, eyes almost manic and wings spread; looking almost like an angry, vengeful fallen angel in that moment.

You took his hand and he smiled, leaning down to kiss the hand that accepted his.

“Thank you, my love.”

I wanted to include how every older sibling’s first child is their baby sibling, lololol. And just. I can’t imagine how much grief he had to have been going through. OTL

I might edit this or add to it later this was just a blurb I wrote in like five minutes-

#roro writes #roro talks #gn reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gn reader #hsr x gn reader #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

[bosinclairsgff]

What it’s like being in a relationship with RZ Michael Myers

Warnings: NSFW mentioned

A/n I could NOT focus while writing this sorry if it’s to short

- Michael never really speaks, so sometimes it’s hard to understand what he’s needing or wanting. You’ve learned that when he needs something he’ll sort of hover around you.

- You have a normal life outside of the relationship with Michael, he however doesn’t. You are his whole life. When you leave for the day he is always close behind. Michael always has his eyes on you.

- He rarely gets annoyed or upset with you. The only thing that really triggers him is when you raise your voice at him. You don’t think he’d ever really hurt you but when you piss him off he’ll give you this look. It’s almost like a warning. Don’t push it to far you never know if he may just snap.

- You don’t really go on dates…duh I mean you can’t he’s a wanted man and he would never voluntarily go out. You guys usually enjoy a movie together or sometimes you’ll read to him. You’ve slowly started introducing board games to him.

- Michael still loves to make masks. You always pick up art and craft things for him whenever he runs out. There’s a whole collection of masks in storage.

- Sexually speaking, I’d say it took a long time for him to get comfortable with anything. He has to have a deep connection with you in order to even want anything like that. Michael wasn’t taught about how to pleasure someone or even himself really.

- I’d say his sex drive is either really high sometimes or nearly nonexistent other times.

- Michael is very possessive. You have to watch out about who you speak to in public because you know he’s watching and if you show to much interest in a man or something he might just disappear.

- Home life is usually calm and peaceful. If you make food Michael will help wash the dishes. He doesn’t like the sound of the vacuum cleaner though and will usually disappear while you vacuum.

- When it comes to birthdays or anniversary’s he usually forgets. Not in a mean or un loving way, it just never crosses his mind. The only holiday he even cares about is, of course Halloween.

#horror #horror fan #horror movie #horror movies #horror films #slasher x reader #slashers #halloween ends #rz halloween #rz myers x reader #rz michael myers #micheal myers x reader #halloween #bosinclairsgff

[97linelover]

Fatal Desires - Lee Seokmin

18+ / mdi

summary: 5 Years of Marriage should mean something, right? Well your Husband did not seem to think so.

content: Husband Seokmin x reader, cheating, marriage, fights, mentions of sex, heartbreak

wc: 2.9k

a/n: angst is my second name, I love drama and I love heartbreak..

As her petite Hand held on to the Sink, she took a deep breath. She felt slightly dizzy; her mind had been clouded for the last few days. She took the pot off the Stove and put the Stew she freshly made into a container.

The steaming stew made the entire house smell like it.

She grabbed the Blue Lunch bag she always packed for him, that he forgot this morning and scribbled down some cute Lines on to the Sanrio-themed paper.

She was a sucker for cute Stationary.

When she got down to their shared Garage, she spotted her Black Audi, the one he gifted her one year ago, as a Birthday gift. She buckled up and drove to the Company Building, She drove towards the security gates, and the Man smiled "Good Afternoon Mrs., are you here to see the Husband?" he smiled sheepishly, and a giggle escaped her glossy pink lips "He forgot his food so I made some fresh Lunch"

"What a Lucky man he is," the elder man grinned. "Enjoy!" he said, opening the gate, and she drove inside, parking in her own spot. Above the parking lot, there was a sign with the letters "reserved for Mrs. Lee".

After their Marriage it was the first thing he did, he wanted to show the world he was taken, and he was proud of it. She remembered exactly how proudly he presented it to her with a red little silk curtain pulling it away with the biggest grin.

Walking along the marble floor was her routine now; she did know the company like the back of her hand. She greeted everyone while walking towards the elevator, and she then drove up to his floor. When the doors opened, she was greeted by the gray and Black Interior, the signature style of her Husband, Everything needed to be clean.

He was a little organize freak.

"Y/N! What brings you here?" She turned around and was faced by none other than Kim Mingyu, the best friend of her husband. "Hey Gyu, he forgot his food, so I cooked some Stew and decided to bring it over," she smiled softly. "He just finished a meeting, so you can go in."She nodded and thanked him.

When her small fist was knocking, his deep voice let her inside, her shoes clicked against the marble floor, and he looked up from the papers in front of him "Y/N" he smiled slightly.

He looked breathtaking, he was dressed in some beige slacks and a white blue striped shirt.

"You forgot your food and I thought maybe we can spend your time together" She walked behind the table, and he looked up at her, with a smile she pecked his lips "you look good today" she whispered, does not remember the last time they were intimate.

"I really need to finish those papers, so I can't join you!" he said while writing down some terms.

She sighed and nodded "I made Kimchi Jjigae your favorite with some rice, so please enjoy, I will wait at home for you" she tried her best not to sound hurt.

"I have several meetings, so please don't stay up," he said, and she nodded, leaving his office.

"Already leaving?" Mingyu asked, and she nodded "He is busy" She tried to smile, and he sighed "You know how he is".

"Yes work always comes first," she whispered, then left.

The next few weeks, nothing changed; she always did the tasks at home while working, she held meetings and combined everything to be the best wife she could be; after all, that's what she promised at the altar.

She was sitting behind her computer, editing the details on the new Design for the Lotte Tower renovation flyer. It was her biggest achievement by now; she worked so hard for this one project, and in one week there would be a big Party celebrating the new building.

The ribbon would be cut by her opening the doors for the new building.

All of her friends would be there, her Husband watching her with proud eyes, and she would feel the happiness through her entire body.

She got ready to announce the event to Seokmin, and she put on some Lingerie covered with a Satin robe. His favorite Color, red covered her body and she felt Sexy with her hair in curls. And then she heard the door open, She heard how Seokmin was taking off his shoes and then walked inside the bedroom. He opened the Wardrobe and grabbed some Pajama pants. When he took off his coat she walked outside, twirling her hair around her finger, and his eyes found hers "I thought you went out," he chuckled slightly "No, I wanted to surprise you" She took some steps towards him, saying, "I missed you and I missed spending time with you" Her slender fingers traced the buttons of his black dress shirt. 

"I missed feeling you" she whispered while slowly unbuttoning his shirt, but he grabbed her hand "I am tired" he took her hand off and her heart felt like breaking apart "I can make you feel awake" she glided her hand along his pants and grabbed the outline off him but when he sighed she felt that nothing was happening.

She let go off him and took a step back "Then, uh, I will take a shower and let you alone" she whispered and walked inside the bathroom, she took the makeup off and brushed her teeth when he walked inside "next week Friday, I have an event, will you accompany me?" she asked him while watching him through the mirror "Yes, of course, I'll be there" he kissed her head, and they went to bed.

When the night of her Event came, she got styled and then got inside the Red dress she bought, she looked fabulous, and she felt beautiful. She could not wait to meet her friends and family there.

When she arrived at the location, she walked around, looked at everything and smiled at how good it turned out.

"Y/N you look breathtaking" Chan said with the biggest grin and a blush crept on her face "Thank you" she then saw all of her friends, Chan, Jihoon, his girlfriend Luna, Wonwoo with his girlfriend Daisy and Joshua with Minghao.

Mingyu came closer with some Champagne in his hand, and she looked around to see if Seokmin was here.. Where was her Husband?

"We are all so proud of you," Joshua exclaimed and hugged her thight "Thank you all so much," she bowed, and then It was her part where she needed to go up to cut the robe.

She quickly typed a message to her Husband.

'Y/N: Where are you?'

And she quickly gathered all her strength and went up, she took a hold of the mic and smiled "thank you all for coming, today is a beautiful evening with the best people, I can't believe the day has finally come ever since I started working with Lotte Tower my Goal as a young woman was to design the best Business area for Lotte tower, but now after all those years they trusted me and my team to design the entire renovation for the new Lotte Tower, I remember years ago when I signed my contract that I looked at my Boyfriend telling him that one day I'll stand exactly here, and he kissed my forehead telling me that he is sure that this will come true. 4 Years later I am standing here happily married, having an amazing time, and being just thankful for everything" I bowed when everyone clapped.

Her friends in the first row cheered the loudest, and she grinned slightly, looking around with no trace of her Husband, She buried those feelings deep down inside her.

This was her night, she needed to enjoy this.

When she cut the robe up she forgot about this and tried to enjoy her night.

And when she came to her small friend group, they all noticed her slumped shoulders, and she tried to put on the best fake smile she could "I'll go home" she announced when nearly everyone was gone.

"I'll bring you" Chan said, and She nodded "Thank you," but on their way, she decided she would go to his office first.

"Should I come inside with you?" he asked her, and she sighed "No, I'll be good. Thank you, thank you Chan" she smiled and went inside.

She did not smile anymore; her heart felt heavy and she just wanted to see why Seokmin had not come.

Her hands were holding her heels,her naked feet were sore from all the walking; she went upstairs with the elevator and was not surprised to see the lights on in his office, her heart was beating faster, and she felt devastated.

He really chose work over her once again.

Her feet carried her towards the door, and she could hear her faint voices. She halted in her steps and her breath hitched.

"Seok that tickles" a feminine voice stated with his deep voice followed "then I would need you to stay still" he groaned, and Y/N knew this groan, her heart felt like breaking in to a thousand pieces.

She then saw the shadows, she heard the smacking sounds, and she heard her heart, the one he once carried in his hands get thrown on to the ground by him.

"fuck you feel so good" he moaned, followed by her high-pitched moans.

Her feet carried her downstairs, she ran down the stairs, could not wait for the elevator, she felt like suffocating. She did not remember how she got home , everything was a blur from the moment she walked outside, and she just remembers falling asleep inside the bedroom.

The next morning she felt her head pounding from all the crying, she woke up by his alarm, and she heard him stirring, she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to cry. She felt like she was just a corpse, completely empty inside.

She thought the love between them was one of a kind, a rare gem, but it turned out it was all just a joke.

When he went into the bathroom she quickly got up putting on some dress pants and her blouse, she ran downstairs grabbing a cereal bar and putting on her loafers "you're already going?" his deep morning voice made her tense and she grabbed her bag "yes uhm I need to be in the office today" she grabbed the car keys and Seokmin hugged her from behind "and you don't tell me goodbye anymore?" he turned her around, just the look at him made her heart hurt so bad "I thought you would shower longer" she whispered and he smiled slightly "have a fun day at work" he kissed her temple and she hurried outside.

And when she was at work she realized that she promised him forever, in good times and bad times she knew she still loved him so much, their time could not be over and she will not give up, maybe this was a misunderstanding, maybe she was to drunk maybe it was a mistake.

But the next two months Seokmin blocked everything, he was only in the office and so Y/N decided it was time for her to visit him. She knew it was real and that this needs to end.

She went to the office but to her surprise her parking spot was not free, there was a Pink Lamborgini standing there and she sighed, she tried to calm her heart while she was riding the elevator upstairs.

Mingyu looked at her "Y/N, did he forget his lunch again today?" he joked, but she shook her head "It's a little more serious this time" she had a sad smile on her face, and he sighed "he's inside the office, Lee Jia is with him signing her Model Contract"

"I think for this he needs to send her out" and without hesitation and without a knock she walked inside, Lee Jia was standing next to him, she was basically pushing her cleavage into his face while reading the contract and Seokmin looked up his eyes widened slightly.

"Y/N" he whispered, Jia took a step back the diamond necklace around her neck catching your eyes, remembering the scenario two days ago.

As she cleaned the bedroom she grabbed his dirty clothes and put them in the washing machine, she grabbed the basket full of folded laundry and put everything inside when she found a little velvet box she smiled opening it she was greeted by this beautiful diamond necklace.

And maybe after all, Seokmin still would remember their 5th Anniversary.

Reality hit her harder than she would've thought "what brings you here love?" he smiled, and she gulped "can we maybe talk alone?" he furrowed his eyebrows "no it's alright I know her, she can stay" and now you knew, she is the new woman in his life. 

"Did you park on my spot?" I turned towards her and she gulped and nodded "But kook.. I mean, Seokmin told me it was okay because you never come here" and in those five years, he never cared.. She thought "It's my spot, there is a sign that says that this is mine" she muttered "Y/N enough, I did not thought you would come here today. So why are you here"

She blinked the tears away "I just wanted to remember you that our friends will be at our place tonight" you simply decided that and he nodded "okay I'll try to come home earlier" he mumbled.

"You will be home early Seokmin, I don't ask for much so please be home tonight, this will decide everything" and with that she rushed out.

She rushed past Mingyu and just hurried home. She laid in her bed crying, praying for the time to turn back to the moment where he changed, to the moment where she fucked up where she did go wrong.

It must be her fault, right?

And when Chan and Jihoon arrived, she felt the mood lighten a bit. She talked to them, and then the others arrived, even Mingyu arrived, telling her that Seokmin was once again in a meeting. She just smiled.

She was no longer strong enough; she let her guards down.

The liquor was burning her throat but she could not care less, and when two hours later only Chan and Mingyu were left the door opened and Seokmin strolled inside. He took his Suit Jacket off and she directly spotted the fresh red patches on his neck.

"I'm sorry the meeting was longer than expected" he said while sitting down and she just scoffed "of course" Seokmin furrowed his eyebrows and shrugged it off "so is there something to celebrate tonight?" Chan coughed his eyes widened. He could not believe that his best friend was asking this right now.

He knew that you were suffering, but he would never think Seokmin was the reason for it.

"Nope, nothing" she spat dryly and got up. Chan winced "Y/N, Please" he whispered but she shook her head and looked at Mingyu "did you know?" she asked while balling her hand to fists "what?" confused Gyu looked around.

"That he fucks Lee Jia" she stated dryly, and Seokmins eyes widened. He felt his heart ready to burst at any moment.

"No, he would never, Y/N he is married?" Mingyu said shocked and she laughed "Yes, you would think that. I thought that too. I thought maybe I meant enough to him that he would tell me the mistakes, that he loves and cares about me" the tears were now rolling down her cheek

"Do you know how long I know?" she asked before continuing, "since my Lotte Tower event, where he never went to, where I wanted my Husband, where I talked about him like he was my biggest supporter because I thought he was my biggest supporter, but in reality he fucked another woman in that time, and when I looked for him, I had to witness him fucking her," her voice was full of venom.

She wiped some tears away but they continued streaming down her face "and whenever I tried to approach him he pushed me away; he was busy he was tired, and I always knew It's because he did not want me anymore" she hiccuped. "I always spotted those dumb Hickeys combined with her perfume"

Seokmin still could not find his words.

"And when I continued being a good wife, I thought maybe he would realize how much I love him. I found a necklace in his underwear drawer and thought, Wow, maybe he still remembers our anniversary, but guess who was wearing the necklace when I came to his office and guess who just fucking asked why we are celebrating" she was now furious.

"I FUCKING LOVED YOU WITH EVERY FIBER IN MY BODY" she sobbed, and Seokmin felt his heartbreak. "It's alright that you don't love me anymore; it's alright that you stood me up, but it's not okay to cheat; you could've told me you want to break up, and I know it's hard, but you broke me" she whispered, pulling out the papers she had for months now.

"I want a divorce" and with that, she walked to the door "Chan can you please take me away" she whispered and Seokmin felt the wet tears rolling down his cheek.

Within seconds, his marriage fell down the drain. 

#dk #kpop #seventeen #seventeen angst #svt #svt au #svt angst #imagine dk #seokmin #lee seokmin

[ciaonicole85]

Part 2: What Then?

I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.

Photo Credit @drrav3nb /  drrav3nb.tumblr.com

"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"

Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.

He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.

"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.

"Nothing cousin."

"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"

Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.

"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."

Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.

"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."

"What?"

"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"

With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.

The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.

"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.

Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.

"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."

Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.

"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."

Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true. 

Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.

After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.

"So, how did you find me?"

"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."

She shrugged thoughtfully.

"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."

He nodded.

"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.

Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.

"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."

Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.

"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."

She nodded.

Carmy set her hand down.

"It's late. I'll drive you home."

With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.

As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.

Probably.    

#the bear #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #sydney adamu #fan fiction #syd adamu #carmy x sydney #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #they are so cute

[tulipsinthedas]

Just finished binging the Fallout tv show and 🤯 I've got so many thoughts running through this little brain of mine. So here's a very long rant no one asked for. Maybe I'll make a more digestible version later. Obviously SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Be warned!

First off - the lore. So many interesting things were added into the lore by this show that I find so fascinating, as well as theories I've had that were touched upon. All of which makes this very exciting but also leaves me DESPERATE for season two. The main thing that has really stuck with me is the confirmation that Vault-Tec were the ones to drop the bombs like hello??? I've always had an inkling ever since I started delving into fallout lore a good year or two ago that they were behind everything, but finally having it confirmed is so fun. Of course, some people out there are going to be irritated (L take) but this imo will make replays so much more interesting. Same with the addition of ghouls needing medication to keep from becoming feral. Although this begs some questions; what is the medicine? Is it just radaway, or something else entirely? Maybe it's connected to whatever Hancock used to ghoulify himself? Or maybe it's connected to Doctor Barrows' research into ghouls fom Fallout 3? Idk! But I hope it's answered in season 2.

Cooper being the inspiration behind the iconic vault boy mascot absolutely gagged me. It was kinda hinted at even in the beginning at the kids birthday party but I was still surprised. Pleasantly, of course. Other smaller things, like the BOS branding and helmets opening up, among other things, were also fun touches that develop the lore in ways that the games probably never would have. It's small things like this that despite livening up the wasteland, would be unnecessary uses of resources from a game-development standpoint. So I think if season 2 ends up being a banger like season 1, we could see a lot more tiny additions to the lore like this!

Secondly - the characters. I don't even know where to start. They were written so well which is such a critical part of a good series. Lucy, despite everything she goes through, stays true to her morals and by doing so, probably unknowingly, is changing those around her. Despite being stubborn, she's willing to listen and understand other viewpoints and adapt herself. It's so refreshing to see a main female lead who isn't written as either weak and naive or strong and boneheaded; she'd a perfect mix of both. I also appreciate them not making her a total push over, even in the beginning before she is given any reason to change. She grows, but never fails to stay true to herself. Plus the whole sex positive thing is an amazing touch to add as well, especially for a woman.

And while on this topic, Maximus is such a cutie pie. Writing characters that are selflessly aligned can definitely be a hit or miss, and without properly being fleshed out, can be one-dimensional, but I never felt that way with him. Despite trying to help others and be a good person, he still has flaws and does feels selfish things. They took the trope of the knight in shining armor, literally, and gave him actual human characteristics that made him feel real. Underneath his heroic demeanor, he's just a little guy who likes slippers and vault popcorn. Who just wants to be somewhere safe away from war and danger, to be where he can just relax and not have to worry. And his romance arc with Lucy is just way too cute. From the moment they met in Filly I knew something was going to happen and I was so excited when they finally kissed lmao. The sweet, innocent love at first sight thing they have going on is the perfect dichotomy to all the bloodshed and heavy themes going on in the rest of the show.

And finally, Cooper is reviving the inner ghoul lover in me and I cannot complain at all. As a certified Hancock lover, I feel seen ✋ also Walton Goggins is just incredibly fine. But that's besides the point. His character is arguably the best written because despite being an undeniably evil person, he is still likeable. 200 years have turned him into a man who had to lose his humanity to survive, and the pre-war flashbacks being shown through his eyes give him, and the story, so much depth. Despite his ways, you can't help but still feel for him, to still root for him and hope that he still has a little bit of that humanity left within him. Which imo was shown multiple times; for example him not killing Maximus in episode two even though he easily could have done so. And the fact that he's still searching for his family all these years later? When he was asked what has been keeping him going so long, I think they are his reason. Whether he is searching to reunite or to exact revenge on Barb for dropping the bombs while him and Janey were outside idk. But it makes his story all the more heartbreaking. I also love the writing for Norm, Moldaver, Dane, and so many others, but this is already too long ass it is.

Overall, this series was so good and I'll be impatiently awaiting season 2! Some things I'm hoping to see next seasons are super mutants for sure, as well as synths and more of the enclave. I think they went easy this season to test the waters and see just how interested people are. And now that they know people are very interested, I think they'll be more willing to invest a larger budget, and add more. Rant over!

#fallout #fallout show #fallout series #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard #lucy maclean #maximus fallout #fallout series spoilers #fallout spoilers #fallout amazon #fallout ghoul

[alwaysbethewest]

Triple Frontier/Narcos fic: Crossing the Streams

This week is @fleetwoodmactshirt's birthday and I knew I wanted to write her something if I could—it was just a question of what. Frankie Morales making ravioli from scratch? An intimate morning spent with Ezra? Or: this? A deeply self-indulgent (and Fleetwood-indulgent) AU of an AU crossed over with another AU from an entirely different piece of media. It made sense in my head.

This concept is something we've jokingly(?) discussed for years but it always felt too outrageous to actually put to words. Until now. Happy birthday, beloved! I hope this makes you smile.

Title: Crossing the Streams Characters/Pairings: Frankie Morales, Benny Miller, Javier Peña, OFC, Baby Morales, ghost!Reader. Nascent Fishben implied; Javi/OFC implied. Rating: Teen (but maybe Gen) Word count: 1.8k Content/warnings: Crossover of my ghost 'verse and @fleetwoodmactshirt's Javier Peña X-Files AU 🙃 Not really exactly officially a part of the ghost 'verse, but could be considered a spin-off chapter of it maybe. I don't think any particular warnings apply. Reader is a ghost. The OFC listed above is the reader from Fleetwood's AU, and I tried to leave her a blank slate. Javi holds the baby a lot. I fudged the timelines so Javi is older but not as much older as he would be. Unbetaed, so let me know if you spot any mistakes.

You can see the family resemblance immediately. The man standing in the foyer isn’t an exact carbon copy of Francisco, but they could easily be mistaken for brothers. Benny had been the one to answer the door and the visitor is sizing him up, friendly but with a hint of narrow-eyed assessment peeking through. Benny senses it and stands a little straighter, calling over his shoulder, “Fish, they’re here!”

The slap-slap-slap sound of the baby’s hands on the hardwood floor announces her arrival even before she rounds the corner into the hallway, crawling rapidly towards the front door while Francisco ambles behind her. Ben scoops her up before she can reach the threshold, easily hefting her up to his shoulder, while the other men greet each other with a hug.

“Ah, mi sobrino!” Francisco’s uncle gives him an affectionate pat on the cheek. “Te ves bien, Francisco.”

“Hola, tío Javi,” he says with a grin. “Come on in. You met Benny?”

Now that they’re standing side by side you’re able to see the similarities and differences between them. Javier is older by fifteen years or so, his dark hair greying at the temples, slim body still fit but gone a little soft around the middle. He’s cleanshaven but for an attractive, full mustache, and his warm brown eyes are shielded by a pair of glasses with dark, slightly rounded plastic frames.

Javier nods. “I haven’t met this one yet, though,” he says, reaching for Francisco’s daughter. She goes to him without hesitation and he has to catch her chubby hands in his before she can drag his glasses down his nose. He pulls a face at her and she giggles.

“And is your…” Francisco pauses, as if searching for the right word. “Partner outside?”

Javi glances out the open door. “She’s getting some equipment out of the trunk. Listen,” he says, lowering his voice a little, “she takes this stuff seriously and she can be a little—excitable, about it. Take it easy on her, okay?”

This stuff, as it turns out, is investigating the world of the paranormal.

After Francisco’s mom had heard about Santiago’s suspicion that the house was haunted, she’d been the one to suggest he invite tío Javier and his… partner, for a visit. (You understand the hesitation before “partner” as soon as you see her; the energy flowing between them is lit up with something far brighter than a pair of regular, platonic co-workers would ever have. And even someone without your vision might notice the way it takes her a moment to recover from the sight of him with the baby in his arms, or how his hand hovers over the small of her back as they make their way down the hall.)

Francisco leads them into the kitchen, where he sets a pot of coffee brewing.

“You can set her down if you want,” he tells Javi, nodding to the baby’s high chair.

“That’s alright,” he says, taking a seat and easily shifting her into the crook of his arm. He crosses his legs so she’s half in his lap and bounces his thigh, just lightly, offering up his free hand for her to pull and pinch and bite at as she likes to keep her entertained.

His partner is watching from the doorway and you observe with interest how her breathing goes almost imperceptibly unsteady before she gathers herself again.

“So which of you saw the ghost?” she asks Francisco and Benny.

Ben’s eyes shift to the corner where you’re perched on the kitchen counter, but Francisco is already answering for the both of them. “Neither of us,” he tells her. “Our friend Santiago is the one who thinks he saw something.”

She’s taking notes in a pocket-sized notebook.

“And what was it that Santiago saw?”

“Socks,” he says, in a tone that indicates he thinks this is just as silly as it sounds.

“Socks,” she echoes, tilting her head inquisitively.

“Floating in the air.” He makes a vague, floaty gesture with one hand while pouring the coffee with the other.

Tío Javi’s partner finally takes a seat at the table, so she’s not stuck juggling her coffee cup and the notebook. The baby leans towards her, curious, and she gives her a polite smile. “Hello.” Then, struck by a thought, she looks to Francisco again.

“Has the baby seen the ghost?” she asks.

Benny’s eyes widen. Francisco just chuckles. “Not that she’s mentioned,” he says dryly. “Look, I don’t want to be wasting your time. You should know that—I’m not suggesting Santi’s making it up or anything but—the guy’s had more than one concussion before. You know what I’m saying?”

“That’s interesting,” she remarks, jotting it down.

Francisco exchanges a glance with Javier.

“Is it?”

“Well, brain injuries, trauma, near-death experiences—they can open a person’s senses to things that others can’t see,” she explains.

He looks skeptical.

“We’ve all had near-death experiences,” he says, gesturing around the room. He says it so matter-of-factly that she looks startled, and maybe a little concerned. “Ben and I were Special Forces. Tío, I’ve heard your stories from Colombia. We’ve all dealt with some dark shit.”

Javi flattens his mouth in a grim line. Ben is rubbing his knuckles over his lips and you can see the anxiety building in him. The room falls silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” she says. Under the table, Javi shifts his leg to bump his foot with hers reassuringly.

“No.” Francisco frowns. “I’m sorry. You’re just doing your job. You—I know you brought some gear with you. You’re welcome to check the house, or… do whatever you need. I’ll show you where Santi saw the socks in the air.”

She sets down her pen.

“If you don’t mind.”

Francisco leads her upstairs to the nursery. You’re not sure you want to get anywhere near her ghost-hunting equipment, whatever it may be, so you stick to the kitchen and keep Ben company while he attempts to make conversation with Francisco’s uncle.

“So you worked in Colombia,” he tries. Javi gives a quiet grunt to the affirmative. He doesn’t want to talk about that—you can tell, and Benny figures it out pretty quickly, too.

“Do you—” he starts, but Javi’s already speaking.

“What’s the situation here?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Between you and Frankie.”

You can almost feel the heat radiating off him as the air shimmering around Benny turns a deep, blushing pink.

“There’s no situation,” he says.

“You’re roommates?”

“Yeah—I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. My lease ended a few months ago and he said I could stay here. He has a guest room,” he adds, a touch defensively.

Javi smiles and nods like he hadn’t meant anything by it.

“What about you?” Benny asks. He nods to the ceiling, where Javi’s partner is upstairs. “You guys seem close. Are you dating her?”

Javi’s placid smile doesn’t falter for a moment, but his eyes narrow a little.

“No,” he says. “She has a guest room, too.”

Ben’s mouth opens, then snaps closed, and the men sit in silence for a moment.

“I think she wants to get down,” he says, gesturing to the baby in Javi’s arms, who’s squirming and lunging forward as if to jump to the floor. He sets her down carefully on all fours and she takes off at speed, leaving Ben to scramble behind her. Javier looks around the empty room, eyes skipping right over you, drains his coffee, and follows suit.

You trail behind him to the living room, where Benny has deposited the baby in the middle of the conversation pit with a basket of toys. Javi stops short, taken aback by the sunken couches.

“Holy shit,” he says. “This place hasn’t been remodeled in a while, huh?”

Benny glances at you, knowing this subject is a sore spot. You’d taken great pride in this house, back when it had belonged just to you, and you’re not sure why everybody keeps wishing to change it now.

“We like it,” he tells him. “It’s got character. Plus, this is like a built-in play pen. She’s too little to climb out.”

Javier sits himself down, spreading his legs comfortably wide in a confident-man sprawl.

“It’s a good house,” he admits. “Quiet neighborhood.”

They watch the baby playing on the floor. You join her there, rolling plastic balls back to her too subtly for Javier to realize they haven’t simply bounced.

“Can I ask you something?” Benny says. Javi raises an eyebrow in assent. “Say there is a ghost—” he starts.

“There isn’t.” Javi narrows his eyes a little, like he’s trying to decide if Benny really believes in something so unfathomable.

Benny is avoiding your gaze.

“But theoretically,” he says. “If there was. What would—I mean—What do you do? Like if the EMF meter or whatever registered something.”

“Well,” Javi replies slowly. “Theoretically, if there was a ghost hanging around I think my partner would tell you there’s something unresolved that they still need. A sense of peace, or…”

He pauses, scratching his chin. Eyes still on the child.

“It’s the same as what anybody wants, right? A sense of fulfillment. So you can move on.”

It makes something feel hollow and fluttery inside your chest, achy like you haven’t felt in a while. Now you’re the one avoiding Ben’s eyes, when he looks at you. You retreat to the corner, wanting to be alone but unwilling to give up eavesdropping on such a rare visit.

Their conversation is cut short by the others’ return. Francisco still looks skeptical and she looks thoughtful. Javi tilts his head back and raises an eyebrow.

“Inconclusive,” she announces. “There were some very interesting readings but nothing concrete. There are some other tests we could—”

“I think this is enough,” Francisco cuts her off gently. “It’s not like any of us have been possessed. If blood starts dripping down the walls, we’ll call you back.”

“Well, for a simple specter I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” she assures him. “Blood drips can be indicative of—”

“It was a joke,” he says, and she smiles but she also shrugs like, well, we’ll see.

“Mijo,” Javier says, changing the subject for everyone’s sake. “Pick a restaurant, we’ll go out to dinner, my treat. Your roommate can come too.”

The emphasis he puts on roommate isn’t strong enough for Francisco to pick up on, but Benny does and he shoots Javi a narrow look. Javi gives him an innocent grin and turns back to the baby, who’s been pulling herself up on his pant legs, trying to climb up to her dad since he’d walked in the room. He swings her into his arms and hands her over to Francisco, and after a ten-minute debate over a pizzeria versus a steakhouse, and a five-minute diaper change, the group heads outside.

Alone in the quiet house, you float up to your attic window seat, where you settle in to contemplate tío Javi’s words about things unresolved.

(tiny tag list: @pedrostories, @littlemisspascal, @loversandantiheroes, @by-ilmater, @pettyprocrastination, @littleferal, @pennyserenade)

#narcos fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales #benny miller #javier peña #fishben #pedro pascal #my fic

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Alien Day falls in Lesbian Visibility Week, so that means I need to write for the lesbian Crowlien au because we love monster women here. Even though this story technically takes place before Aziraphale mutates into an alien.

I just wanted to write a little soft fluff with them before shit happened. Even if there is mentioning of what happens post-alien encounter.

On with the fic!

--

Crowley was grinning as she crossed through the ship's halls, looking for the medical wing. She had something hidden behind her back as she slipped past an irritated looking Furfur, nearly dropping it when he almost tripped her. "Whoa! Who pissed in your cornflakes?" She sniffed, giving him a look.

Furfur looked back at her, clucking his tongue. "Just the annoying, forgetful redhead who, once again, left me doing her job!"

Crowley blinked, then considered what he meant. "You went and fixed the issue with the lights in med bay?"

"Yes. Which your... wife kept trying to get you to fix!" He spat the word 'wife' out as if it tasted terrible. God, he was never going to get over Crowley rejecting him, is he? "Apparently she'd been trying to contact you all morning, and you didn't answer any of her calls."

"Was busy with that repair job Gabe's was bitchin' about at dinner last night, the one he told me I had to do first thing in the mornin', remember?" Crowley stuck out her tongue at him. "Anyway, I need to go and see my wife about something more important than the malfunctionin' lights in the keyboard of her computer! Ta~!"

She cackled and ran to Aziraphale's office, slapping the door button, watching it slide open.

Aziraphale was inside, typing away at her computer with just her index fingers. It's amazing how much of an old lady she could be, even at her age, it was so cute. She seemed so focused on whatever she typing that she hadn't noticed Crowley or the door opening.

Crowley chuckled softly, leaning against the door frame, waiting for her wife to finally notice.

In three... two...

"Oh! Darling!" Aziraphale looked up, smiling brightly. "I didn't hear you come in!"

"Course not, too busy doin' nerdy medical stuffy, eh?"

"Hush you." Aziraphale replied, then pouted. "Where were you? I've been trying to contact your communication device all morning! Did you forget to charge it again?"

"One, no, it was charged, remember? You saw me plug it in. Two, just call it a comm, angel, no one calls it a 'communication device'." Crowley moved from the door, hearing it shut behind her, hands still kept behind her back as she approached the desk.

"And I was fixin' that thing for the captain, cause if I didn't, you know he'd hound me for it all fuckin' day."

"Ah, that is true." Aziraphale said, then glanced to the side, trying to see what Crowley was hiding. "What's that?"

Crowley grinned. "Do you know what day it is?"

Aziraphale blinked owlishly behind those little glasses she wore when reading. "Tuesday?"

"Well, yes, but the date?"

"It's August..." She glanced at her calendar, then gasped. "It's my-!"

"Happy birthday!" Crowley shouted, holding out the yellow gift bag she had been trying to keep hidden.

Aziraphale stood up, looking so excited as she walked around the desk. "Oh, you clever snake, you didn't have to get me anything!"

"Too late, got it right before we left, so I clearly can't take it back! WAAAAYYYY past the thirty day return limit!"

The doctor laughed and kissed Crowley on the cheek before taking the bag, looking inside. "Oh, oh Crowley..." She pulled out a book, one that was clearly old, but in a very well-kept condition. "Is this...?"

"A first edition copy of Persuasion? Your favorite book? It might be."

"Darling, this is just... it's too much!"

"Nothing is too much for my wife, my favorite person, my beloved angel." Crowley smiled, holding her close, kissing her neck. "Do you like?"

Aziraphale set the book and bag on her desk, then leaned into the hold, kissing her right on the lips. "I love it. I love you. You make me so happy."

Crowley kissed her on the forehead. "Good, when you're happy, I'm happy. I love you too, angel."

--

Crowley looked at the pages in front of her, having paused mid-sentence in her reading aloud of the book. She heard the soft sounds of Aziraphale sleeping, felt the warm, moist breath through those terrifying teeth against her shirt where her wife was resting her head.

She grabbed for the bookmark nearby, slipping it into place, then closed the book. She looked at the cover, seeing the single word of the title. It was still in good condition, minus tiny tears from where Aziraphale had tried to grab it in her clawed hands.

It bothered her to not be able to hold her precious books anymore, but Crowley was there to do that, to help her enjoy them by reading the stories aloud. Granted, Crowley didn't often like the books Aziraphale enjoyed, some of them were so gloomy, but it made her wife happy, and that's what Crowley enjoyed most.

She sighed softly, setting the book aside, looking at bone-white locks of messy hair, at a face that seemed more like a skull than the cherubic face she was used to, but she still saw her wife there, that beautiful angel she married.

Things would never be like that birthday when Aziraphale got her book, when it had been such a good day, only for things to go to shit just two weeks later.

But that was alright, Crowley still had Aziraphale, even if she was a bit different than before. Her angel was happy, even like this, and that meant Crowley was happy.

--

Something sweet, before all hell broke loose.

Also, yes, Crowley reads to Aziraphale now, it's so hard for her to do it herself.

Oh, I really like the idea that Furfur has feelings for Crowley, who has been married to Aziraphale for years. Sir, move on, you're never gonna get the girl. (Also, you die anyway, but still).

#good omens #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #crowlien au #anthony j crowley #crowley #aziraphale #john's drabbles

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

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

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

#the entire conversation in the van - and the purpose of max's role - came to me late at night #and i was so excited i could barely sleep afterward #everything fell into place after that #steddie fic: november paramedic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #ok so about the car: #(first off i want to admit i know nothing about cars) #in the show steve drives a bmw 733i. the car is gorgeous imo. however while luxurious at the time it's not expensive today. #so i looked up modern luxury cars and found the 30 jahre m5 - the limited edition from when bmw m5 celebrated 30yrs in 2014 #only 300 got made and only 30 were sold in the us. they were as you might imagine expensive. #so the story here is that steve got one for his 16th birthday (would've been in 2015 in this fic) #probably from a doting grandparent since i doubt his parents would've given something so expensive to a teen #fun fact: every 30 jahre m5 is colored 'frozen dark silver' (gray. they're fucking gray.) #but since it's NOT steve's car if it's not burgundy and since i've already erased covid's existence... i don't think this change matters

[botanautical]

'We all yearn for the woods. That's why every fellow on this island wants to settle down near a tree - just one will do.'

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanart #it's dazai day!! #i wish this insufferable fictional man weren't so beloved to me #but as somebody plagued by silly brain issues he is oddly comforting and makes me feel less alone #and bsd introduced me to actual dazai osamu whose writing is honestly groundbreaking to me and i've barely even scratched the surface #it's something about the confluence of humour and tragedy... the desire to exist to bring joy to others at the expense of one's own #i feel like asagiri imparted this notion well onto bsd dazai - i know a lot of people dislike dazai and question his motivations #but i have faith in him and believe he's pursuing good #anyway excuse the ramble! the caption is from dazai's short story 'monkey island'! thank you to my dear partner for finding it for me!! #i'm really very happy with how this piece turned out - i wanted to depict bsd dazai but really pay suitable homage to his namesake #it's been a while since i've had fun drawing but this one and other recent pieces this month have really brought me back into it #happy birthday dazai #botanautical

[whumpy-wyrms]

WOAHHHH NEW OC STORY IDEA ALL A SUDDEN

okay so vampire guy works at a morgue and feeds from the dead bodies but it’s never Enough. it keeps him under control but he does needs fresh blood once in a while. anyway this human guy dies, was brought to the morgue, and the vampire guy drains him of all his blood (as he does to every corpse) but this human died recently and his blood was fresher and tastier than the others. vampire leaves the dead human in one of those corpse shelves for the night (vampire guy lives in the morgue somewhere) and the next morning BOOM. the human guy is awake and alive and healthy as if nothing happened. immortality moment!! woah

and the vampire guy is like SWEET!!! new infinite food source of fresh delicious human blood!! now he doesn’t have to feed from those gross corpses anymore or go hunting and risk being killed by pesky vampire hunters.

but vampire guy still has to work at the morgue. that’s his whole business. that’s his home and how he needs to make money to buy food for his new human bloodbag (guy can survive without food but his blood tastes better when he’s not starving).

and it’s strange for the vampire guy sometimes. he’s always spending time around dead humans and this is the first time he’s gotten close to an actual live human before. and even though he’s keeping him captive, he still likes making conversation sometimes. it gets lonely being an immortal vampire who’s hasn’t had a close relationship in decades, and who’s instinct it is to suck the blood out of every human he meets. and since immortal human guy is trapped there and has nothing to do, he might as well talk to him. he’s lonely too and now just found out he’s immortal. he doesn’t wanna be alone forever

but obviously he hates being fed from by a vampire and desperately wants to escape. vampire guy kills him a bunch of times just because he Can. sometimes he drains him of all his blood when he’s extra hungry, sometimes he just kills him for disobeying or trying to escape to teach him a lesson. sometimes he kills him for fun, for the thrill of the hunt. dying is PAINFUL as fuck to the human. he hates dying even though he always comes back fully healed.

sometimes the human wants more things to keep him occupied so he’s not bored all day trapped in the basement of a morgue (or maybe he’s kept locked in a corpse shelf during the day, extremely claustrophobic and dark, with no way out, trapped next to a bunch of human corpses. who knows). but the vampire doesn’t wanna waste his hard-earned cash on buying his human silly unnecessary things just because he’s bored.

so sometimes he lets the human help him work. vampire guy owns the morgue and has no other employees, and only works at night to avoid sunlight, so human wouldn’t be able to call for help anyway. human guy hates being around dead bodies but it gives him something to do and he technically gets paid for it in a way. now vampire guy gets things done twice as fast and has more money and free time too. he buys his human the stuff he wants, like books or puzzles, and they sometimes play games together.

human was a nobody. he probably died from some freak accident and was brought to the morgue by the hospital. he didn’t have a family or any loved ones that claimed his body or set up his funeral. nobody came looking for his body to bury or cremate because Nobody cared that he was gone. and that just makes things a whole lot sadder because even if he does somehow escape the vampire, where’s he gonna go? he’s legally dead. Everyone thinks he’s dead. he’s supposed to be dead. there wouldn’t be anywhere to go or anyone to go to because he obviously can’t tell people he’s immortal, that would just cause more questions, and surely being experimented on by scientists would be worse than whatever he’s going through right now, right?

so human guy has to accept his life now, as an immortal bloodbag for a vampire who works at a morgue. his life is filled with blood and death, but there’s nothing he can do about it. maybe vampire guy eventually gains sympathy for him, and starts to feel bad for his pathetic excuse of a life. maybe they eventually become friends. or maybe the human stabs a wooden stake through the vampire’s heart. who knows

anyway these guys have existed in my head for nearly an hour and they don’t even have names but i am going insane over this holy shit???? RAUHHHH i’ve gotta make picrews dude i gotta draw them. new blorbos. new brainrot. i prommy i’ll still get tllr chapter 13 out today or tomorrow but WOAHH look at these new little guys they’re so silly

#AHHHHH i love vampires and immortals and morgues #3 in 1? YES #if anyone has name recommendations feel free to tell me #i’m most definitely gonna write something about these guys #probably not a long lore driven series like tllr but Something #maybe i will also make an au where the human is taken by Anton and experimented on because Anton wants to learn more about his immortality #there’s just so many possibilities with this concept and i love it i love these silly guyssss #brand new blorbos were born today. happy birthday #wyrms says stuff #no idea what this series will be called either so idk what to tag this as yet #i need name ideas!! ahhhhh #vampires #death #murder #death mention #vampire whumper #immortal whumpee #silas oc #aspen oc

[perpetualcynicism]

july 23rd, 23:59.

you awake to the prodding of a finger on your face. 

“what is it…?” you grumble, still half-asleep.

with effort, your force your eyelids open (for the weight of exhaustion still lays heavy upon them).

the first thing you see is the ceiling— or at least, what you can make out of it. the blinds are still drawn closed, and all you can make out overhead is a steady plane of darkness.

you turn then to see the next thing; this being the cheerful face of the one who was (and still is) poking you. when you make eye contact, the corners of his cat-like eyes quirk upwards with his smile.

he turns over and picks something up from his bedside, before rolling back over to face you again. 

he switches on his phone and waves it in front of your face, blaring your vision with bright light. you recoil, tempted to hiss at it like a vampire. 

“look at the time,” he says, prodding you once more. you blink to adjust your eyes to the brightness, and see that the numbers 00:00 float across the screen. 

you look back at heizou, and in the light of his phone, you can make out the grin that’s spread across his face. 

“so?” you grumble, your brain not yet awake enough to make sense of this information.

“so…” he turns off his phone and returns it to his bedside, then shuffles closer to you, childlike excitement shining in his eyes, “you know what that means…!”

huh?

oh, right.

“happy birthday, heizou,” you sigh with a playful roll of your eyes. 

“can you sing it?” he asks.

you groan internally. you care about your boyfriend, yes, but at the moment, you care more about your sleep. 

“no.”

“please?” he frowns, eyes wide and innocent like those of a sad puppy.

you sigh. “seriously?”

he nods his head with a confident mhm. you sigh again, and half-heartedly sing,

“happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear heizou,” and, staying on that note, you add, “now-let-me-go-back-to-sleep-before-i-hit-you-with-a-bucket-and-we-can-celebrate-later-in-the-morning, happy birthday to you.”

“thank you,” he smiles, and you honestly can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not. 

“you’re welcome.”

a pause.

“can i go back to sleep now?” you ask. heizou thinks for a moment, before his shoulders sag with a sigh.

“alright, then.”

you turn around, facing away from heizou. just as you make yourself comfortable, however, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“one last thing,” he says.

heizou, i swear to god, you think.

“what?” you groan, craning your neck to face him as best as possible.

“c’mere, turn around,” he pesters. you comply with his request, although the look you send him is one empty of amusement. he either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore the malice in your glare, and shuffles closer to you again. he taps his lip with a finger, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“gimme a birthday kiss?”

you blink slowly at him, more than tired of his antics. “will this really be the last thing?”

“yep.”

“you sure?”

he nods. 

“alright, then,” you say with a certain degree of heaviness in your voice. you lean in, intending simply to land a quick peck on his lips, but as you make to pull away heizou follows the movement and captures your lips in his once more (and you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he does so). he holds the kiss for a few more moments before pulling away once satisfied with its length.

“now you can go back to sleep,” he announces. 

“i can’t wait,” you reply sarcastically. (well, perhaps half-sarcastically is more accurate, because you are indeed looking forward to falling back asleep).

this time, however, you don’t turn away from him. rather, it’s your turn to shuffle up to him, just stopping short of his chest. heizou’s expression softens, and he leans forwards, whispering a ‘good night’ into your ear. 

eyes still closed, you reach out and press your finger firmly to his lips: shh.

he looks down at the finger on his lips with a frown, before deciding to press a kiss to your fingertip. you can’t help but smile to yourself and, perhaps deciding that he deserves it, allow him to play with your hand for the rest of the night.

#i just whipped this up out of nowhere so it might be a bit… mediocre? idk #i wanted to write something for his birthday lmao #genshin impact x reader #heizou #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader