#don't fuck with a girl and her favourite mug

[happyhauntt]

a grey day — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.

─── word count: 1.3k.

     YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.

     And really, you’re expecting it  ━  this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.

     Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.

     Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning  ━  if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you  ━  so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.

     You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.

     It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.

     "Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.

     The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"

     You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"

     "Don't go home with strangers."

     "Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."

     The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."

      You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."

     When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"

      You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."

     By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.

     "YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."

     Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.

     And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.

     So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.

     "Uh..."

     It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.

     "It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."

     "Where's Dr. Peterson?"

     "He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."

     Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."

     "Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.

     An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."

     "That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"

     “No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.

     When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.

     He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”

     You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.

     “Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”

     The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.

     “If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.

     He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”

     “I’m sure I will.”

     You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.

     He’s certain he’d never live it down.

     Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.

     Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #3

CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 

The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 

Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 

Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”

It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 

It was easy. It was simple. 

That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 

“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”

You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—

“Jesus, watch it!”

You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 

“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 

You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”

You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”

Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”

You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 

“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”

He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 

“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 

 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 

“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 

You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 

“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”

“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”

Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”

Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”

Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 

“Well?”

“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 

“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”

Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 

The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 

He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 

“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”

—————

By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 

“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”

So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 

Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”

You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 

“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”

“Think he was lookin’ for you.”

You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 

Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 

“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 

“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 

Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”

So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 

Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 

“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”

Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 

The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 

“Sorry.”

—————

Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  

He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 

There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 

“Thank you.”

Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 

“You got a crush, my friend?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 

“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 

He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 

—————

The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 

It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 

She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—

The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 

So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 

But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 

The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 

You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”

Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”

Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”

Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”

Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 

Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 

You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”

The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 

“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 

“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”

When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 

“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”

You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”

Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 

And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #linecook!eddie

[luveline]

what about a grumpy!reader / Eddie + roan. Reader is trying so hard not to let work things get to her but she ends up being a bit grumpy at home, that's when Eddie and our favorite girl Roan intervene.

Maybe. Just a thought. I just love them (and you) so much ❤️

thank you!! i love you <3 eddie and roan —your small family tries to cheer you up after a bad day. fem!reader, 1.4k

"It's a new one called the macarena," Eddie says, his hands around Roan's wrists guiding her arms into the right positions. "Macarena by maca-Roanie."

She's dancing on his thighs. You have no idea how he can cope with it. While Roan isn't a heavy girl, whenever she does it to you it makes you squirm. 

Eddie hums the song and poses Roan's arms, across her abdomen and then hands on her hips. "Hey, maca-Roanie," he sings, making her shake her hips in time with the song, bodily turning her to the left.  

She giggles at the suddenness of it, and her eyes light up with happiness when she sees you're back from the bathroom. 

"Dance with us!" she pleads, laughing more as Eddie messes up the move and quickly corrects her arms. 

"Maybe in a minute," you say, as gently as you can manage despite your foul mood. Neither of them deserve to feel shitty just because you do. 

"Now," she whines, her foot slipping off of Eddie's thigh. She runs with the momentum to the end of the couch, her hands grabbing for you. "Please! Dad will sing the song again." 

"Sorry, Ro," you say, giving her shoulder a quick rub. 

You walk over to the TV to turn down the volume a touch before collapsing with a puff into the fat armchair. Relief courses through you as you shield your eyes from the light. 

"Is she okay?" Roan whispers. 

Eddie must pull her or yank her toward him, if her little yelp and subsequent laughter is anything to go off of. "She's okay, mini me. Today's been really long, that's all."

"It feels as long as yesterday." 

"That's the problem. Come on, let's go make a cup of hot cocoa, okay? I'll show you how to do the dance again."

You're glad that they leave, though that soon melds to a bone deep guilt, kind to make you wanna get up and put on a smile and learn Eddie's new dance. You try to force yourself up. 

You sink deeper into the armchair. 

"Can I give her a hug?" Roan asks in the kitchen. She must think you can't hear her far away. 

"I'm sure she'd love that, but let's give her ten minutes, okay?" 

"Is she mad with me?" 

"No," Eddie says fondly. "She's definitely not mad at you. Just tired, babe."

"Will you toast my marshmalloweds with the flamethrower?" 

"Blowtorch," he corrects. You hear a drawer opening, a click, and Roan's impressed Woah.

I'm such a fucking dick, you think, curling into a ball. My poor loves. 

You sizzle in your bad mood, folding in on yourself as tightly as you can. They don't deserve to feel the cloud hanging over your head. Hopefully it'll blow over soon, and luckily they don't seem to mind. Eddie knows better than to think how you feel has something to do with him, or Ro, or that you'd ever take it out on them. 

You don't want work to make them feel shitty too. 

The kettle whines on the stove. You used to make cocoa in the microwave until Eddie found out about superheated water and said it was too dangerous. You can see him in your head pouring the hot water into their matching mugs, Garfield and Odie, Roan's very favourites donated from the Great Munson Mug Collection when she was a baby. Your heart hurts thinking about it 'cos usually you're standing there at the counter listening to her tell you how much she loves Odie the puppy. Eddie used to cut the Garfield strips out of every newspaper and save them in a plastic binder for her until she slowly lost interest, but the love is still there. The plastic binder is proof, tucked up on your bookshelf next to your photo albums and Eddie's records. 

"Sure you got it?" 

"Yes, daddy, I have it. Thank you for asking me." 

"Are you kidding? You're so welcome. Please don't burn your fingers." 

"I have the handle. You're doing that thing Y/N says you do with over drotectivity." 

"Over drotectivity, huh." 

"You're worrying about things more than normal dads worry and it's gonna give you chives." 

"Sweetheart." Eddie snorts, their footsteps approaching the living room. "It's called over protectiveness, and she thinks it gives me hives, not chives. Which it doesn't! I got hives one time and it was from that discount laundry detergent." 

"When Y/N put ointment on your back and said you felt like a rattlesnake!" 

You peek up from the depressed leather of the armchair your face is smushed in. Roan crosses the room with your favourite mug in her small hand, the weight of it straining her wrist. Cocoa sloshes over the side and a marshmallow rides the wave down onto the hardwood. 

"Don't slip," you say softly. 

"Won't slip," she says, grinning. Her smile is all Eddie like a master copy. "I made you cocoa in the best cup with just pink marshmalloweds 'cos the pink ones are for love." 

"What are the white ones for?" you ask.

You take the mug from her before she can burn herself. Eddie presses down on her shoulder as he sits on the floor in front of your armchair, wielding two mugs in one hand precariously. He swoops Roan into his lap and smiles at you from over her neatly coiled curls. "White ones are for making you taller." 

Roan points at her mug emphatically. "I got lots of white. I wanna sit in the front seat of the car." 

"That's a good reason," you say, slouched but not entirely collapsed in your chair, wondering why they've sat themselves at your feet and already knowing the answer. "Thank you for cocoa, Roro. I'm sorry I didn't dance with you earlier." 

Roan shrugs and leans back into Eddie's chest. He narrowly avoids scalding her, slurping a sip from the rim of his mug rather than have it pour down the side to splash her pyjama-clad shoulder. 

"That's OK. I didn't want to play Wombats with you last night and you still hugged me after teeth." 

She can be such a peculiar kid. Her vocabulary keeps growing in an explosion of mispronounciation and wrong definitions, as well as these unexpected shorthands; teeth means brushing her teeth. She'd brushed her teeth and dragged you to her room, imploring you to climb into bed with her for a half hour which you happily spent stroking her hair from her forehead and exchanging sleepy conversation. 

"Honestly, I didn't even think about Wombats. I just wanted to spend time with you," you say. 

Roan's little chin dips up and down as she nods, her hair bouncing against her cheeks. "Exactly! We don't have to dance. We can just sit down all night." 

"I like sitting down," Eddie adds. 

You lick your lips. They're too good for you, sometimes.

"Thank you, guys," you say, taking a sip of cocoa. 

Roan preens. Eddie puts his cocoa on the floor and his hand on your arm, the gap between you feeling smaller and smaller by the second, your bad mood at a low simmer rather than the roaring boil it had been. The ring on his pinky finger is distinct as his loving hand keeps you company, smothering the heat. 

They chat to one another and don't mind when you have nothing to say. All the sugar and love-flavoured marshmallows cheer you up some, enough to put down your empty mug and want a hug. 

"Come here?" you ask, laying back to make room. 

Roan makes a sound that can only be described as a rabid giggle and leaps onto the cushions. Eddie isn't far behind her, mugs forgotten and nearly kneed over as he encapsulates the two of you in his arms. 

"I'll be less grumpy tomorrow," you promise bashfully. 

"You're kinda cute when you're grumpy," Eddie says, indifferent. His smile curls against your shoulder. "Don't force it." 

"I like happy you and sad you," Roan says. 

You smile softly, tucking a silken curl of hair behind her ear. "I'm not sad," you promise, looking her in the eye and meaning every word, "I can't be sad for long with you and dad around." 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[discopaddock]

SNOW, SNOW, SNOW - PIERRE GASLY

PAIRING: single dad!pierre gasly x polish!fem!reader

GENRE: angst

WORD COUNT: 2380

NOTE: im back finally!! sorry for absence yall i just had a lot of school and i was on a school trip so i wasnt using phone too much. hope you like this one, x.

WARNINGS: burn, missing child, my english, google translated french

If Y/N L/N had haters, Pierre Gasly was one of them. If she had only one hater, it was him. And if she had zero haters, that meant that Pierre Gasly was dead.

Y/N had no idea why Pierre didn't like her so much. If there was something which happened and it didn't have a good outcome, he would always blame her from their whole group.

And because of his father, Claude Gasly didn't like Y/N either. He was Pierre's mini-me so of course he was acting the same as his father.

I guess it was the 2023 winter break, when Y/N, Pierre, Claude, Max, Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, Lando, Yuki and their girlfriends were together in the Alps and the little guy got lost in the woods, but I'll tell you about it later.

“Enzo, none of them like me so why should I share a room with them?” Y/N asked, when she heard that she was going to be roommates with the Gaslys.

“Come off it-”

“I'm fucking not, for fucks sake, I don't want to share room with them, they are going to kill me and I am fucking serious at this moment” she announced, making Lorenzo, Charles and Max laugh. “I can even sleep on the couch, just not with them,” she added, but then Max said that he can share the room with Pierre and his son, but she would have to share the room with Lando.

She had never felt so thankful in her life before.

Sure, Lando was pretty disgusting, but he was better than the Gaslys, who hated her.

“Hey, hey wait! Y/N!” Verstappen yelled to her, watching as she was running upstairs with her huge suitcase.

“Hey Lando! Guess what, we're sharing a room” the girl said, after entering the bedroom, where Norris was sitting on his bed, which was the one against the window.

“Oh, okay?” He said a little confused, but he didn't mind. He was actually best friends with Y/N, so he was happy about it.

“So um yeah, bye Lando” Max announced after taking his valise and he left the room.

And then the Gaslys had arrived. Claude was an energetic boy. He was full everywhere. And as I said, he was his father's mini-me, so he looked exactly like him; the same ice-blue eyes, brunette hair, a gap between the teeth. As if you did copy paste in real life.

And Pierre liked to have matching clothes with his son, so it was even more copy paste in real life.

And again as I said, Claude was really energetic. And because of that just after taking off his winter clothes and shoes, he ran to his, Pierre's and Max's bedroom, not looking around, so he collapsed with Y/N, who was carrying a mug with a hot tea. This story for little Gasly had a happy ending, unlike L/N, who burned herself with the tea and broke her favourite mug.

“Kurwa mać” she cursed in her native language with teary eyes and a red hand. She quickly picked off parts of the mug and ran to the kitchen and put her hand into cold water. “I'll clean it up in a moment!” she announced but Colette, who saw the whole incident calmed her down, saying that she would do it for her. Fucking hell

“Do you need anything?” Augustin asked, after she entered the kitchen and saw Polishgirl, who still had her hand in the water. “Could you bring me my makeup bag? I have ointment for burns and frostbite in it” Y/N answered and Colette only smiled, nodded her head and went to the room of L/N and Norris.

“How bad does it hurt?” Lando asked, when he entered the kitchen with Y/N's makeup bag.

“Really bad? I guess” the girl answered, wiping her hand with a paper towel. “I don't have any bandages, damn it” she announced, rummaging through the makeup bag.

“Lorenzo's must-have” and with that, Lando ran to the eldest Leclerc's bedroom. “Enzo said if your hand won't stop hurting at night, he will drive you to the hospital,” Norris announced, putting the bandage on his friend's hand. The girl nodded. Her hand was hurting like hell, but she was hoping that she wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

“Fuck, I don't have any mug now” she said after a moment of realization. “I need to go to the town” she said and started walking to their room. Lando followed her, saying that he could go with her. “Be careful with your hand” the boy said, which made the girl roll her eyes. They were almost ready to go, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in!”

“Y/N, I know someone that wants to tell you something” Collette announced after walking to the bedroom. The little boy stood in front of the Polishgirl and mumbled: “Je suis désolé d'être tombé sur toi” I'm sorry I ran into you

“Je ne suis pas en colère, mais fais plus attention la prochaine fois, d'accord?” she answered, crouching, so she could look at Claude's face. I'm not mad, but be more careful next time, okay?

“Je suis désolé pour ta tasse” the boy added. I'm sorry about your mug

He actually felt sorry for that situation.

Sure, he didn't like Y/N, because of his dad, but still she was always kind and nice to him and it was his fault that all of this happened.

“Je ne suis pas en colère, ne t'inquiète pas” she said with a smile on her face and Claude hugged her. L/N had no idea what to do. After a while she hugged him back and because of that, he gripped her even tighter. I'm not angry, don't worry

Finally the boy moved away from her, so she could go with Lando.

“Bye!” the boy waved at them, so did Colette, who had a warm smile on her face.

“I don't remember if little Gasly had ever treated you like this” Norris said, when they finally sat in the girl's car.

“Same, Lando. Like I- fuck, he never liked me” Y/N announced. “Like his dad. Because they act the same but you know. I didn't even think that he would apologise to me”

“Yes, yes, same. Like he never wanted to play with you when we were hanging out, he was just mean to you like Pierre” Lando agreed with her.

“Do you know why Pierre doesn't like me so bad? Because for four years since I met him he always treated me like shit and never told me why” she asked, but her best friend didn't know.

“Since Claude was born he became really protective over him. So maybe it's because he didn't know you before C was born? Like he considered you as an enemy because he thought that you would hurt his beloved son? Like the female defends her young” Lando explained and the girl had no choice but to shrug.

“I don't want to think about them, just let me buy a new mug” Y/N said and got out of the car, so did her best friend.

They came back to the house after two hours, because they also went to the bookstore just to watch some books because they felt the vibe.

“You two were on a date or something?” Charles asked when they entered the living room.

“Who knows?” Lando moved his eyebrows in a suggestive way with a smile on his face. Y/N only shook her head, also smiling.

“Good luck on your new way of life!” Yuki yelled at them, when they were walking to the kitchen. Everyone laughed.

Well, everyone except Pierre who shook his head with a disgusted look. How old were they? 5?

“Oh, Pedro, stop being so boring,” Yuki told his best friend.

“You act like you were five,” Gasly said, which made Yuki laugh even more.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Claude, who just woke up from his nap. His English was broken but as a six year old bilingual boy it was really good.

“Because of your dad, C” Tsunoda answered, sitting the boy on his lap. “He's really jealous, you know” Yuki whispered to the little brunette boy's ear.

“Why is he jealous?” Claude asked, also whispering. “Y/N and Lando,” the Japaneseman answered quickly and quietly.

Well, yes, Pierre was jealous about Y/N and Lando. He was jealous of their relationship. In his opinion, they were together, like they were dating and did all that stuff, which people in love do and he used to do, when he was in a relationship with C's mother, Héloïse.

He was also jealous because he didn't spend as much time with Lando as they used to before the Brit-Belgianman met the Polish Girl during her Erasmus in France.

Plus, Y/N was really attractive, like she had catched a lot of women's or men's eyes, so did he. He wanted to date her actually, but he was at lost point; he fucked up at beginning of their acquaintance.

So Pierre thought that there was no other option, than just pissing her off for the rest of their lives.

On the next day, the whole group went skiing. Some of them like Lando and Arthur were snowboarding also.

It was a fun day. It was the only time when Y/N liked being in the mountains the whole year. Because she was a sea person (just like Pierre).

At twelve, they went to eat lunch. L/N was sitting with Norris, Charles and Colette at the table, while Pierre and the rest were sitting at the other one. It was only because the big table where Pierre was sitting was too small to accommodate them all.

After lunch they went for a walk in the woods. It was fun, relaxing and the trees were looking amazing covered with the white snow.

Everything seemed to be a dream until Pierre realised that he lost his son. They were at the car park, when Gasly realised it.

“No Pierre, you're staying here with Yuki, you're panicking and you won't be helpful in this condition” Lorenzo said, looking into the Frenchman's eyes.

“We should start looking for him as quickly as possible, let's go” Y/N said and ran into the woods, so did Lando, Arthur, Carla, Max, Gabby, Charles, Colette and Lorenzo.

“They'll find him, don't worry” Yuki tried to calm down his best friend, who was crying.

“I fucking lost my son, I'm a horrible father” Gasly scoffed and rested his head against the car seat.

“No, you're not! You raise him on your own, he doesn't have a mother, so you have to be both for him and you are doing it really well. And it is common that kids are lost, when they are small like C” Tsunoda handed the brunette man a tissue, so he could wipe his tears.

“Yes, but in markets not in woods!” Pierre cried out. “I'm so awful. Like fuck, I treated Y/N like shit for these four years and now she was the first person to ran into the woods to look for my son. That fucking hilarious!” he said.

“You should apologise to her” Yuki announced, which made the other man take a deep breath before he started talking again.

“It's too late”

“No, it's not! Y/N is the kindest person I've ever met. Like if you tell her the whole truth that you like her in this romantic way, she will definitely forgive you” the man announced.

“Yeah and that's the problem. I'm grumpy and she is sunshine. I won't tell her that. She doesn't like me back. She's dating Lando” Pierre said.

“You're such an idiot, they're just friends”

And while Yuki was giving Pierre a lesson about Y/N, she was running in the woods just to find the little Gasly. It was getting dark so she was worrying even more about the little boy.

“Claude!” she knew that she shouldn't scream in the woods, but what could she do? She repeated the boy's name a few times, walking deeper into the wood. “Claude!” she yelled again and she was losing her hope, but then she heard a small voice on the left. She quickly ran there and found little Gasly, who was sitting under a tree with blue lips and red hands.

“Oh, Claude” she said and picked him up from the ground. The boy only hugged her and covered his head in her neck. The girl pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and gave it to Gasly to wear them.

She was terrified of his condition.

“I want Papa,” he cried. He was hungry, terrified and frozen. “I know, you'll meet him in a moment, I promise” she announced and kissed his head. “I was chasing a squirrel and then no-one was around” he said, which broke Y/N's heart. He was only six years old and it definitely was a huge trauma for him. “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you” she told him. “I think I know why my papa thinks you're pretty,” Claude whispered. “I heard when he was talking about you with Yuki in our living room. I think he likes you, but he doesn't know how to tell you” he added.

Y/N was shocked.

Pierre fucking Gasly was thinking that she was pretty.

“Do you like my papa too?” the boy asked and Y/N had no idea how to answer him.

“Well, he's nice” she only stuttered and started walking faster. It was already dark and she was worried that she would get lost too.

“We're here, Claude” she announced when they were ten metres from the whole group.

Y/N was the last person to show up (as always).

“Is Papa here?” little Gasly asked, but the girl didn't answer him, because both of them were hugged by no-one other than Pierre. “Papa!” Little Gasly gasped after he recognised his father by his smell.

“Je suis tellement désolé, Claude” the man said. “Et merci, Y/N, merci beaucoup” he added. I'm so sorry, Claude. And thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.

The talk with Yuki gave him a lot to think about himself, her and how he treated her and how he wanted to treat her.

#formula 1 #discopaddock #pierre gasly #pierre gasly angst #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x slavic!reader #pierre gasly fanfic

[moonsreid2]

Doctor Who-Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer realises that he didn't actually know the girl who sat in front of him every day as much as he thought.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!reader (no use of y/n)

warnings: none! just fluff, reader is a doctor who fan because I'm self-indulgent as fuck

lmk if you enjoyed :)

She sat there, like usual. Nothing different about her should have made Spencer act this way. Except for the mug she was holding, the contents held the same coffee she always made but that wasn't the reason why Spencer stopped in his tracks.

The mug was of a special blue police box, that he would have recognised a mile away, the main feature of his favourite show. It was a mug of the Tardis. Her smile sipped on the mug, drinking away like normal, but he couldn't move. He was quite literally, starstruck.

"You okay, Pretty Boy?" He didn't have to turn to know who had just spoken to him.

But he turned anyway, locking eyes with Derek instantly, "The mug, Morgan, look at the mug." He whispered.

"What's the prob-"

He was cut off before he could finish the word, "The mug is the Tardis, She likes Doctor Who? Has she ever spoken to you about Doctor Who? How didn't I know she liked the show? Why has she never told me? What Doctor do you think is her favourite? Derek why arent you stressing out about this?"

"Because, Loverboy, it's a mug." His eyebrows raised as if it was no big deal at all, but Spencer thought he was crazy. How can no one care about this? Doctor Who is one of the best shows created and no one is freaking out that the girl he has been, not so, secretly crushing on for the past two years is drinking out of a mug that's about the show.

"Thanks, Morgan, you're great help" He scoffed.

"Would either of you explain to me why you're both staring at that poor girl?" Emily magically appeared in between Derek and Spencer placing her hands on their shoulders.

"Reids freaking out because his lady is drinking out of a mug from a weird nerd show he likes" Morgan takes this opportunity to smirk while taking a sip out of his own mug. Which ended up being a terrible idea, because Emily decided this was a great time to smack Morgan over the head.

"Stop bullying the poor guy, Doctor Who is a great show" Emily defended, which Spencer was greatly appreciative of. However, she turned to him and said, "But, just go talk to her instead of staring at her, you're gonna freak her out, you moron" She pushed him towards her, which he wasn't greatly appreciative of this time.

"Hi!" Spencer smiled at her, sitting lightly on the corner of her desk.

"Hi, are you okay?" She smiled.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, I just noticed your mug, do- do you like Doctor Who?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, i love it! Have I not told you that before?" Her smile faded slightly, realising that she never told him such an important part of her life.

"No, you, ehm haven't" He giggled slightly, and she took this opportunity to walk over to refill her coffee, which Spencer immediately followed "Did you know the regenerations were an accident?"

"Really?"

"Yeah! A faulty mixing desk made the appearance of William Hartnell overexposed to the point where it was almost white which ended right after Patrick Troughton could be put in his place!"

"It was really an accident? I would have thought they made it on purpose its such an iconic part!" She encouraged, pouring the pot into her now famous mug. "Got any more facts for me, Doctor?"

"Ehm- Sure yeah!" He nodded his head before saying "David Tennant who played the 10th doctor, had a daughter in the episode "The Doctors Daughter" who was played by Georgia Tennant, who he ended up marrying and she's also the daughter of Peter Davidson, the fifth doctor!"

"You really do know everything don't you?" She smiled at him, and Spencer thought his heart had stopped right then.

"Not really, its certianly impossible for a human to know everything but I take pride in knowing I know approximately 78% more facts than the average human." He rolled his lips inwards, into a smile, making her blush which therefore made Spencer blush even more.

"Would you want to come over one time?" She blurted, Spencer taking a back, "I- I mean to watch it with me sometime, you know and we could get to know each other better? Maybe?"

"Really? Like as a date?" Spencer immediatly regretted the words that came out of his mouth, it was obviously not 'like a date' how could he just be so stup-

"Yes Spencer," She smiled at him, "as a date"

"Y-Yeah! That would be great!"

"I'll organise a date and a time then," She says smiling as she walks away.

Spencer stood there starstruck for the second time that day and was approached by Derek and Emily again.

"You alright, kid? You look a bit shaken up" Derek smacked his back.

"My first date ever is watching Doctor who." He stated, smiling like a schoolboy, walking away still smiling.

Emily's hand immediately rose in front of Derek's chest, folding her fingers inwards several times back and forth. "Cmon, owe up"

He immediately opened his wallet and placed 50 dollars into her palm "You suck, Prentiss, you know that right." Almost shouting now as she walks away.

"Yeah but you swallow" Blowing a kiss to him, making the rest of the BAU team giggle, but the two will never know their friends betted on their relationship and they will never know why Rossi, Emily and Penelope are all 50 dollars richer.

#criminal minds #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #criminal minds aaron hotchner

[ughgoaway]

matty leaving the studio early and bringing teacher girlie a travel mug of peppermint tea to the school during her lunch breaks when shes early on in the pregnancy because he knows how nauseous shes been 🥺

Oh, this is SO SWEET. I just know Matty would be doing absolutely everything he could to make sure you were as happy as you could be, pregnancy is rough as fuck (from what I've heard lmao) so he does whatever little things he can to make it better. 

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

You've probably been violently nauseous the first trimester, the only thing you can stomach is peppermint tea and crackers. So imagine your disappointment when you get to work, and there's no peppermint tea left in the cupboard. Despite you labelling it a thousand times, someone had stolen it.

You fight the tears brewing and take a deep breath, you almost text Matty to complain to him but you are starting to feel bad about how much he is dealing with from you.

Every morning you wake up and immediately rush to the bathroom to vomit, to say the morning sickness has been bad would be the understatement of the century. And each time, despite your protests, Matty comes to sit with you. Sometimes he rubs your back or holds your hair but mostly he just sits with you. And once you're done coughing up your guts, he escorts you back to bed and doesn't let you get up until he's made you some herbal tea.

He kisses your forehead with a cheesy smile as you hands you your tea, and feels his heart flutter each time you grin up at him before taking your first sip. Matty always waits for you to take one sip, he loves the little happy wiggle you do each time. It was the little things like that that made him fall so unbelievably in love with you. And you doing those same things whilst pregnant with his child? well, lets just say the fact that he's not just staring at you lovesick all day is impressive.

But you're feeling pretty high maintenance about it all, despite Matty assuring you he would do this and more if it made you even fractionally happier. so you don't message. You take a shaky breath and shut the cupboard, going back to your classroom with no tea and trying to prepare for the energy of god knows how many 5-year-olds.

When lunch swings around and you finally get 5 minutes of silence, you once again feel like crying. God pregnancy hormones were making you a fucking mess. you felt as if your brain was swimming in them, and you weren't even that far along.

The kids had been gone for just 10 minutes when you get a knock at your door, and you assume it's one of them coming back to annoy you. You love them, but you sometimes just need time away. 

However, it was literally your job to look after them, so you plaster on a faux smile and say, “Come in!” in your fakest sweet voice. 

You can't hide the gasp of surprise that escapes you when Matty walks in, he's wearing the leather jacket and douchey rockstar sunglasses combo you loved so much, and holding your favourite travel mug. 

He pulls his glasses off with a smile, pressing a kiss on your head when he finally reaches your desk. “Hi my love, just popping in to drop you some peppermint tea. Assumed you wouldn't get a second over lunch to grab your own, and I know how nauseous you've been so I brought it from the studio for you” he softly says, leaning on your desk and stroking your cheek with his cold hands.

“But the studio is so far from here?” you say, sipping the tea happily. And Matty can't hide the Cheshire cat-like grin that pulls at his cheek when he sees you do that little happy wiggle he loves so much. 

“I know, but I had to come and see my girls! And this little one of course. Saw Annie running around like a maniac outside already” Matty rubs your stomach with a grin on his face, flicking his eyes from your face to your bump. He was obsessed with your little bump, even though you're only a few months along matty insists on having his hands on you whenever he can. 

You immediately tear up at his words, and you can't help but let them fall, borderline sobbing in the middle of your classroom over some tea.

Matty immediately snaps into overprotective dad/boyfriend mode, “Woah woah woah. Whats up sweetheart? You okay? Is the baby bothering you or something?” he crouches next to your chair and tries to wipe the tears falling down your cheeks, but they keep streaming as you blubber and sob even harder at his words. 

You try to give him a coherent response, but nothing apart from vaguely word-sounding gibberish leaves your lips, matty gives you a worried look and pulls you into his neck. Rubbing your back gently and shushing you softly, “Oh it's okay darling, whatever it is we can fix it okay? Do you not want the tea? Because I can go throw it away right now” he assures you, pulling your head from his neck and holding your face between his hands.

His worried eyes scan your features, desperately trying to figure out what made you suddenly burst into tears. You sniffle and eventually, your tears stop falling, now you just have wet pink cheeks and a slightly snotty nose.

You suck in a shaky breath before answering Matty, “No no, it's perfect. You're perfect.” you say, smiling at him with love swimming in your eyes. 

Matty smiles bashfully and goes to wave you off, but before he can start speaking again, you cut in, “No, I really mean it. You have just been the most perfect boyfriend I could ask for. I don't know how you knew I needed peppermint tea right now, but you did. And you came out of your way to bring it to me. Just love you a lot, s’all” You feel your cheeks heating up at the slightly embarrassing confession of your unbelievable love for him. But any embarrassment fades when you see the same pink flush rising on Matty's cheeks. 

Very few things felt as good as making Matty Healy blush, an almost impossible task for anyone but you.

“I love you too sweetheart,” Matty whispers back at you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You quickly shoot back and shake your head at him, trying not to laugh at his disgruntled pout. 

“You can't kiss me! Im all gross and snotty” you pout back, wiping at your face and laughing at yourself.

“I don't care. You're the mother of my children, I always wanna kiss you” Matty smiles as he moves in again, and this time you don't pull back.

#soppy teacher au content is BACK! #(i say with this one blurb completed and 0 energy to do anymore tonight... IM SORRYYYYY </3) #matty would literally be the sweetest human ever during your pregnancy #also i hate peppermint tea but i am willing to comprise for this cute concept <333 #teacher au! #matty healy fluff #anon!

[beansidhebumbling]

Babylon Rises

What Comes Before-An Introduction

Sleep had never been Nesta's friend.

Lavender oil, chamomile tea, yoga, melatonin- pretty promises that she'd land within the Sandman's grasp. Like the desperate do she tried them all and watched them fail. Her new nightime routine a pilates princess' wet dream, mood lighting and steaming mugs of flower water and the gentle stretching of aching muscles, was aesthetically pleasing and utterly useless.

***

In her youth it had seemed like a superpower.

She did not bow to the night.

Her resistance to rest had been useful when cramming for finals, turning pages in the wee hours in the Aberaes wing, Redbull night shakes entirely unnecessary. It had carried her through college and the early trials of corporate law.

In those hazy days of young adulthood, dancing to club music into the wee hours, glitter dusting her skin and coke her nose, it felt like being invincible. Frenzied messy fucking one hour, dabbing Velvet Teddy on her lips on the corporate commute the next.

Stilettos sharp, mind sharper- Nesta fucking Archeron.

***

But as 35 came and went, marked by middling sushi and excellent company, the creeping fear began.

"You know Nes, averaging 2 hours sleep isn't healthy for you."

Gwyn was in doctor mode, from the worried tilt of her fine brows to her crossed arms as she leaned across the glass table, her matcha pushed to the side.

"Yeah I know. I know. I'm on it, I swear G, just don't tell Em."

"Don't tell Em what?"

The familiar voice floated from somewhere behind her.

Fuck.

***

Nesta eyed her double shot macchiato and wondered for a brief hopeful moment if she could drown herself in it, before turning guiltily to meet her friend's hard stare.

"The tea you gave me didn't work."

"Well shit, Archeron. That should have cleared any grade 5 spirits. What the fuck is clinging to you?"

Emerie shook her head, waves of ebony curls writhing in shared disbelief.

Claiming a seat beside Gwyn, her friend pursed her blue-stained lips in a familiarly threatening way and Nesta found the celebration rapidly descending into an inquisition.

***

The grilling was nothing new.

The same roladex of suspects was resurrected each time- stress, diets, spirits. Each had their favourite.

Gwyn, doctor and yogi claimed it was stress. Her friend, a research fiend, sent links to Pubmed every second day on the hormonal and immunological consequences of stress. In a way that, ironically, did little but exacerbate the pressure she felt.

Nesta hoped for diet, lived in faith that eliminating some carb or nightshade or sugar would bring her the peace of a full REM cycle. And if she dropped from a size 14 to an 8 in the process, then maybe Elain would stop sending her emails about spin classes in that passively bitchy way of hers.

Emerie's theory was the strangest by a mile.

"I'm telling you Nes, with all due respects to any of Berdara's papers this problem is one on the spiritual plane."

The demon-hunter raised an ornately manicured hand as Gwyn opened her mouth.

"Before you start, I don't doubt for a second Archeron could do with taking that stick out of her ass, Berdara."

Gwyn settled back in her seat as Nesta huffed indignantly.

"Whatever this is, it has serious mojo. I'm getting worried, the Illyrian dream traps I've placed around your room are filling far too quickly."

"We live in a haunted house Em, that's not exactly surprising."

Nesta retorted, her eyes tightening as the familiar pulsing in her temples that preceded her routine migraines began.

Today was not going as planned.

"I know the girl who became a mere believer a decade ago isn't lecturing me. I am a hunter Archeron and this isn't my first rodeo."

Emerie's eyebrows raised in challenge.

"I'm not. Definitely not. But Em, like you said I'm just a believer, and only that because I know you. I've no affiliation to the Other. It seems more likely it could be dairy, I was..'

Gwyn's sigh caused the pretty waitress to glance up from her physics textbook at the counter, before returning to her work following Nesta's bashful wave.

"I cannot listen to the potential dastardly powers of brie again, Nesta. That is well trodden ground. Let the rodeo queen continue."

Emerie flipped the redhead the bird before continuing.

"The Others are less concerned with bothering the Unseeing than we are topside. So it doesn't matter that you can't See. They don't exactly mind their manners or well, I'd be shit out of a job. Lucky for you, I happen to be very good at said job."

Pausing, Em reached into the chest pocket of her favourite leather trench, before pulling out an egg sized red jewel with a look of sheer triumph.

"Is that a ruby?"

Gwyn gasped.

Emerie scoffed before muttering dryly.

"Easy to stay humble with you two. "

"This is no mere ruby. This, my idiots, is an Illyrian protection stone. A rumoured fable, I hold the first found in three centuries reportedly."

"By you?"

"Yes by me, Archeron."

Emerie harrumphed.

"You could sound slightly less skeptical especially considering it's for you."

With that Emerie stretched her tattooed palm across the table and dropped the stone in Nesta's palm.

With a lupine smile she added.

"Go buy me another Americano and I'll tell you how I've saved your life. Add a shot of caramel, it's the least you can do for your saviour Nessie."

***

In the sticky blackness of the Other Cassian awakened and mountains moved. With the crack of his wings the promise of war grew ripe in the air.

In his slumber much had changed.

Babylon had fallen. Like him.

But she had found him.

His mate.

And so, like the tide he would rise.

And find his way to her.

#nessian #acotar #nesta #cassian #I'm now sleep deprived #continue or nah? #gemwrites

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

A Palomino Christmas

Jack Daniels x f!reader

|| Palomino universe oneshot, out of chronological order as I haven't finished the series yet. Can be read as a stand-alone. ||

{ Fuck Yeah Holidays | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E

Summary: You spend Christmas at the ranch with Jack. You thought the present you got him was inspired until you see him wearing it - the cowboy way.

Inspired by snowsuit anon and this adorable post (and a super cute nickname for a pony) sent to me by @aynsleywalker.

Warnings: !Ski suit action!, drinking, mention of food, gratuitous descriptions of the male bulge body, dirty talk, safe unprotected sex, feelings so fluffy. These holiday fics are for fun, so not as *rigorously edited* as my regular stories, please forgive any mistakes or plot holes!

Word count: 4.5k

Dedicated to @guiltypleasure-girl who I'm so grateful to have made friends with this year and who, imho, draws the best Jack in all the lands. If you don't already, follow her art page @guiltypleasure-art for the most gorgeous fanart ❤️

It’s always busy in the Stateman’s main kitchen on Christmas morning. The smokey burn of firewood warms the cozy space as the radio blares holiday tunes. Poppy presides over the operations at the head of the table - everything is planned down to the T and everyone has a role.

On any other Christmas day, Jack would be her sous-chef, the one she relies on to keep everyone on schedule and in their place.

But alas, today is not any other Christmas day.

The normally put together cowboy ambles around the place like a headless chicken, leaving a trail of half-completed tasks in his wake. Tequila, in uncharacteristic discretion, follows two steps behind.

He turns off the tap that Jack’s left pouring into the already full kettle, draining the excess water and putting it on the boil.

There’s one slice of bread in the toaster, while another lies forgotten on the table, which Teak slides into the free slot and pushes down the lever.

Jack pulls a jar of pickles from the fridge unseeingly, putting it on the table and walking away in search of a mug under three sets of watching, worried eyes. Teak replaces it with his friend’s favourite strawberry jam without a word.

While the oblivious cowboy’s back is turned, Teak motions his hand and forth across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing nope emphatically at the occupants of the kitchen table.

On his cue, Poppy clears her throat and speaks up, ‘Jack, sweetie, why don’t you go check on the horses after your toast? The stable boys want to leave work early today after doing their morning rounds.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ he answers absent-mindedly, staring down into the empty mug in his grasp as if he’s lost his train of thought.

At that very moment, the toaster pops and Jack practically jumps out of his skin, stepping on Jameson’s paw where he’s lying on his rug in front of the fire, prompting an indignant yelp from the border collie and winces from around the table.

‘Sorry boy,’ he apologises and picks up his toast - burning his fingers - and stumbling over his feet to set his plate down. ‘Mornin’,’ he nods to the others without really registering who’s there.

Jack proceeds to butter his toast with such singular focus that he doesn’t notice when Tequila fills his still empty cup with coffee, only to knock it over immediately when a phone buzzes and his hand flies out to grab his. Ginger and Poppy trade concerned looks as he jumps onto his feet with another apology, snatching a tea towel to clean up the mess.

Eggsy, on potato peeling duty on the other side of the table, isn’t so diplomatic. ‘You’re jumpier than Bambi this morning, cowboy.’

Jack grunts noncommittally and chews on his toast, not rising to the bait.

‘Don’t be so nervous mate, we promise we’ll be on our best behaviour.’

Teak snorts from the kitchen counter where he’s making his PBJ. ‘I don’t know about England, but around these parts, lying on Christmas day is frowned upon.’

Eggsy replies high-handedly, ‘Can’t speak for you, Tequila, but I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

Ginger chuckles as Teak sits down at the table with his sandwich. ‘Ha! I’ll believe it when I see it.’

Jack points a forceful finger at the boys, one after the other. ‘I swear to the baby Jesus Christ, if you two don’t behave yourselves, there will be hell to pay.’

Eggsy snickers. ‘Never thought I’d see the day. Ol’ cowboy Jack falls heads over heels for a bird -’ he screeches when the coffee-soaked rag hits him in the face, which sends Teak into hysterical laughter. ‘Oi! What the fuck, man!’

Ignoring the ruckus, Jack dusts the crumbs from his hands and shrugs on his jacket, grabbing a thermos and filling it up with fresh coffee. With a hurried later, he strides out of the warmth of the kitchen and into the frigid morning air.

Thermos tucked under his arm, Jack rubs his palms together, warming his fingertips with his breath as snow crunches beneath his well-worn boots. The ranch is blanketed in thick snow, a picture-perfect postcard landscape as it is every Christmas. The morning mist has yet to burn off, but he can tell by the peek of blue through the clouds that it will be a fine day.

If your flight is on time, you should be on your way by now. He’d wanted to pick you up from the airport, but you insisted that there’s no point in him driving all the way there when you already know the way. Depending on the conditions, it shouldn’t be long until you arrive.

His list of chores isn’t long this morning - the stable boys will be on duty until lunchtime - but still, he wants to tick all the boxes before you get here. Striding into the heated stables, he says howdy to the grooms and whistles, smiling as dozens of faces appear at the doors, ears pointed forwards in attention, snickering and whinnying at him.

This never gets old.

‘Mornin’ ladies and gentlemen,’ he calls out, wandering down the stalls, rubbing a velvety nose here and pulling on a furry ear there. ‘Who’s ready to stretch their legs this fine mornin’, huh?’

Starting at the end of the stables, he unlatches Bourbon’s door and ushers him out of the stall, then crosses the aisle to let out Tanqueray, Champ’s elderly but still supremely poised Friesian, who clops leisurely towards the exit. Zig-zagging back and forth, Jack whistles, jostles and chats to the horses, all smartly dressed in warm rugs, as they file out down the corridor and into the courtyard for a bit of morning exercise while the stable boys mucked out their stalls.

‘No loitering, ma’am,’ says Jack sternly when Poppy’s mare, Pie, idles in the middle of the building. He gives her a firm pat on the rump to get her moving and whistles at one of the cheeky Shetland ponies who’s snuck into someone else’s stall. ‘Half-Pint! What did I say about stealing your friends’ treats? Shoo, now!’

The stables empty, the echoes of hooves on the concrete ground fading, with Scotch being one of the last to exit. Looping back to make sure there are no dilly-dalliers, Jack’s surprised to find the palomino, who would normally be leading the charge towards the grazing fields, still lingering at the barn doors.

‘Whatcha doin’, boy?’ he calls out.

Scotch tosses his head and steps to the side -

And you appear.

With the biggest grin, you run towards him and fly into his arms.

Your cheeks are wet, the spray of snow powder melting when it hits your skin. It drifts all around you as Scotch eats up the white ground, the thundering hooves muted by the soft cushion of the untouched, overnight snow. The mountain air is sweet and pure and stingingly cold, you can barely feel your face anymore - but it might just be from how hard you’ve been smiling.

You feel like you’re in the middle of a Christmas movie. The lush, green landscape you remember so well from your trip months ago is now all coated in wintry glory, but you still recognise the contours of the land and the mountains. It’s your first time in the saddle since - the whistle of the winds in your ear is a song you remember all the words to, the burn in your out-of-practice muscles all over a familiar old friend.

And you’re happy.

Slowing Scotch to an easy trot as you approach the end of the trail, your breath mists in front of your face as you look down over the ranch, a scene straight out of a classic snow globe, thin wisps of smoke drifting from the chimneys of the wooden lodges dotted across the property.

Gently manoeuvring the palomino to a halt and giving him a pat on the neck, you turn to smile at Jack as he walks up beside you on Whiskey. ‘I’ve missed this so much.’

‘Me too,’ he answers, warm eyes on you.

You give him a sidelong glance. ‘You’ve been here the whole time, cowboy.’

‘I know. I’ve missed you being here.’ He reaches over and pulls your gloved hand towards him, presses a kiss to the back. You want to shuck off the leather and cup his whiskered jawline in your palm, push the well-worn hat off and twine your fingers into his hair -

Later. There will be time for all that later, preferably in front of a roaring fireplace.

You break the moment with an eyebrow arched in a challenge. ‘Race you to the stables?’

Jack grins. ‘You’re on, darlin’.’

Christmas dinner is in the main lodge, which you didn’t use during your trip in the summer. The intimate space is exuberantly decorated in red and gold, a huge, freshly cut pine tree stands proudly by the antique fireplace, a merry fire burning. The table is beautifully laid, silverware immaculately polished and fine china sit alongside holidays-themed napkins. A magnificent feast lines the length of the mahogany dining table comfortably seating eight.

But any kind of decorum stops there.

As the hours tick by and bottles of wine and sherry are emptied, the meal has descended into what Jack warned you in advance as ‘typical Kingsman chaos’. According to the cowboy, the whole Kingsman team comes to the ranch every summer for their annual company retreat, but only Merlin, Eggsy and Harry fly over for Christmas. And while their contingent is small, havoc is an inevitable conclusion where any number of the Kingsman are involved.

Desserts are still being passed around the table - sticky toffee pudding, pecan pie and Yule log - when Teak and Eggsy start to raise their voices and slap the table about British and American Christmas songs. They’re currently yelling - not singing - carols at each other, with Jameson barking excitedly in the background.

Tequila throws his hands up in frustration at Eggsy’s rendition of Twelve Days of Christmas. ‘Why is there a partridge in a pear tree? What the fuck is a partridge?’

Champ and Merlin are having a more civilised but no less intense debate about pies - specifically mince pies versus pumpkin pie as a holiday dessert.

‘Next year, old chap,’ declares Merlin. ‘I’ll bring mince pies with me and you’ll be eating your words, just you wait.’

Jack whispers in your ear. ‘He says that every year, but never does.’

You chuckle and turn your attention to Harry, who’s now insisting that they should put Love Actually up on the big projector screen after dinner, whereas Ginger and Poppy are lobbying for Elf.

‘Why not The Holiday? It’s literally the perfect American-British movie,' you pitch in, which launches another furious tirade of debate at your end of the table.

Jack mumbles under his breath. ‘Because they’re idiots and pointless, festive arguing is a winter sport around here.’

His arm is warm around your shoulders as you giggle into your mulled wine. ‘Is it like this every year?’

‘Yup,’ he answers, really popping the P. With a mild touch of embarrassment, he holds your amused gaze and asks, ‘Too much?’

Tipping your face upwards, you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

‘Just enough,’ you assure him as the corners of his eyes crinkle in the warmest smile.

You didn’t have time to drop off your suitcase at Jack’s cottage, which is a short drive from the ranch, when you arrived in the morning. Instead, with Champ’s blessing, you commandeered one of the guest cabins, all empty in the off-season - which is just as well. By the time midnight rolls around, it’s clear that no one is in any state to make their way back to their respective off-site houses.

Harry and the ladies retired to their borrowed rooms a little while ago, leaving you and Jack to round up the stragglers. You check on Teak, lying face down on the sofa, bundled up in his winter quilts in an aborted attempt to leave. A few steps over, you drape a blanket on Champ and another one on Merlin, who are passed out on armchairs which look comfortable enough to sleep in, socked feet up on matching ottomans. Eggsy is cuddling with Jameson in front of the fire, and Jack feeds the logs to make sure it burns till morning.

It’s bleak outside. Jack shields you from the worst of the winds, tucking you into his side as you trudge across the snow, the early start you’ve had catching up on you. Thankfully, the heating is already on in the cabin when you get there, and he starts a fire as well while you get ready for bed.

When you pad into the bedroom in your pyjamas, teeth brushed and makeup washed off, Jack looks up to see you holding a neatly-wrapped present, a shy smile on your lips.

Standing up from the fireplace, he dusts his hands and reaches for you, palms settling on the small of your back, leaning down to graze his still cold nose against yours. ‘Is that for me, darlin’?’

‘Maybe,’ you reply coyly. ‘Do you want to do presents now or tomorrow morning?’

‘Let’s do it now, I have to feed the horses early tomorrow,’ answers Jack, pecking you on the cheek. ‘Give me five minutes.’

The bed is cold, and you have to steel yourself to burrow into the icy cocoon of the thick covers, missing Jack’s warmth. He doesn’t make you wait long, re-appearing in just boxers, and a big box in hand, switching off all but the bedside lights.

Sliding under the duvet, he yelps when your icy feet tangle into his longer legs, making you laugh. His bare skin heats you up instantly as he wraps one arm around you and pulls you into his broad chest. You feel him hum when he asks, ‘You want to go first, darlin’?’

Blinking up at him, you answer nervously, ‘No - you first.’

He pushes the box your way and you sit up, pretending to shake the package to gauge what’s inside. Jack chuckles, his strong forearms dark against the beige quilt wrapped around his middle. Only his fingers give away his nerves, picking at loose threads in the fabric as you carefully unravel the wrapping paper.

Lifting the lid of the box, your lips part and you stare wordlessly at what’s inside.

‘Jack,’ you breathe. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Gently, you pull out the cowboy hat in tan suede, the smell of fresh leather comforting as you turn it over in your grasp, marvelling at the craftsmanship in the dips and swells of the construction.

‘Try it on, darlin’,’ he says, his shoulders relaxing in relief at your reaction.

You do, and of course, it fits perfectly. Shuffling onto your knees, you crawl closer to kiss him fully on the lips, tilting your head to the side so that his face fits under the brim of your hat. ‘Thank you, I love it.’

Jack arches an eyebrow. ‘You might want to check the box again, darlin’.’

Sitting back on your haunches, you send him an almost accusatory look. ‘You can’t give me two presents, cowboy.’

He shrugs with an insolent grin. ‘I’m a grown man, I’ll do what I like. ‘

Your eyes alight on the black velvet case at the bottom of the box, and you draw it out with careful fingers as if it will break. With one last glance at Jack, you gingerly lift the lid, feeling the hinges creak.

Jack watches you closely, his own breathing suspended as you stare down into your hands, thoughts whirring in his head. Is it too much, too soon? Is he comin’ on too strong? Would you even like it?

After the longest ten seconds of his life, you look up at him with soft eyes and brows drawn, a crack in your voice. ‘Jack.’

He gives you a lopsided smile and reaches for the box. ‘I went back to the same silversmith who made my belt buckle and asked him to make this.’

The chain is delicate in his big, weathered hands. It takes him a couple of tries, but he eventually manages to pry open the hinge of the clasp and holds out the necklace towards you in a question. ‘May I, darlin’?’

Turning around, the bed dips behind you as Jack shifts closer, cool silver kissing your décolletage as he fastens the clasp behind your neck. Your gaze drops downwards, the tip of your index finger testing the weight of the solid sterling pendant in the shape of a flask, Statesman emblazoned in delicate lettering -

A much smaller but exact copy of his belt buckle.

His words draw you out of your thoughts. ‘You like it?’

‘I love it,’ you correct him, twisting around to tackle him into the mattress, your knees around his waist as you loom over him, knocking off your hat so you can kiss him properly. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you.’

The pendant dangles from your neck, tickling him on the chin as he winds one big hand into your hair, his eyes following as it sways. ‘It looks good on you, darlin’.’

The warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest starts to recede as your eyes land on the present you got for him on the bed. The giddiness you felt when you found it is a distant dream, instead, anxiety threatens to take root deep in your head. If you got something from Amazon tonight, is there any chance that they could deliver tomorrow -

‘Darlin’. You’re thinking too loudly,’ says Jack soothingly, chucking you gently under your chin. ‘What’s wrong?’

You shake your head. ‘I got you a really stupid present. Let’s forget about it - I’ll get you something else.’

His brows draw together in concern as he grabs your wrists and pulls you flush against his chest so that there’s nowhere else to look but at him. ‘Don’t say that, there’s no such thing as a stupid present. Whatever you got me, I’m sure I’ll love it.’

You inhale deeply, chewing your bottom lip. ‘You mentioned a few weeks ago that your leather jacket and fleeces are too bulky and it’s hard to move around in all the layers when it's cold.’

He nods encouragingly. ‘That I did.’

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you reach out and drag the package towards him. ‘Well, I saw this at my local shop, and thought it might help.’

Jack gives you a reassuring smile and leans back into the pillows, grabbing the present excitedly. He pulls you against his side, as if he’s trying to squeeze all the self-doubt out of you, the gift draped across your laps as he starts to unwrap it.

You’re a bundle of jitters when he rips off the wrapping paper with impatient fingers, and the lightweight and puffy blue fabric comes into view.

Jack shakes out the neatly folded one-piece. ‘Is it - a ski suit?’

You nod and point out the black contrasting detailing on the front of the suit. ‘It's light and it's warm. Look at the western design with the single point pockets - I couldn’t not get it for you.’

Jack chuckles, the sound warming you as his arm tightens around your shoulders. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. So simple, yet so clever.’

‘You like it?’ you ask in the smallest voice.

‘I love it,’ he grins, drawing you in for another kiss. ‘Thank you, darlin’.’

Finally assuaged, you sag against him, a yawn creeping up on you as the tension in your body recedes. ‘You want to try it on now?’

Tucking you in, he says, ‘I’ll try it tomorrow, it’s been a long day for you, darlin’.

Putting your hat and his ski suit on the bedside table, Jack turns off the light, his body immediately seeking out yours under the sheets, claiming every inch of you with a leg between your thighs, front plastered to your back, palms under your ratty pyjamas top, splayed across your naked skin.

It’s been too long.

Nose tucked behind your ear, his arms full of you - finally here after months of feeling your phantom weight in his embrace - the night slips away as the snow falls outside.

It’s too warm under the covers when you wake up, even though Jack’s side of the bed is empty. You stretch lazily, the clock reads 8am but the fire is still going strong, he must have stoked it when he got up.

You decide to make some coffee and wait for him to come back before venturing to the communal kitchen for breakfast. While the water boils, you smile as you fiddle with the necklace sitting on your chest, warm and reassuring against your skin.

The smell of caffeine fills the cabin as you sip from your mug, and before long, you hear Jack stomping up the stairs, humming a country tune in his raspy baritone as he approaches the door.

Pouring him a steaming cup, you say, ‘Hey, I made you some coffee -’

You trail off when you turn around.

Your morning brain can’t quite grasp the picture in front of you. Jack’s still wearing his cowboy hat, his nose red from the cold. Vaguely, you realise he’s wearing the present you gifted him - and you congratulate yourself on the fact that it fits him like a damn glove.

The ski suit accentuates his broad shoulders and tapers in at his waist in a flattering cut, the zipper drawn all the way up to the hollow of his throat. He’s replaced the detachable belt that came with the ski suit with his own, the flask bottle buckle popping against the blue.

But the bottom half - that you have trouble comprehending. It takes you a beat longer to realise why.

He’s wearing full-length cowboy chaps over it.

Chaps are essentially leather trousers with the seat cut out, and Jack's wearing them with his belt looped through the straps. You know he only uses them when it’s muddy, to keep his jeans clean. He didn’t wear them at all on your pack trip, but you’ve seen a peek on Facetime in the rainy months in between. And now that you're seeing them in person, you decide that like them - a lot.

Your gaze, slow as molasses despite being completely unburdened by shame, slides all the way down to the triangle of blue framed by the negative space in the brown chaps where - for the lack of a better expression - his prominent endowment hangs heavy at the apex of his strong thighs. Not that you’re trying to look, but you can see the very heft of him through the fabric.

Jesus H. Christ. It’s too fucking early to be sinning.

When Jack realises that you’re staring, he says somewhat apologetically, clearly oblivious to the merry tangent your mind has gone off on. ‘Sorry, I know I’m not meant to wear it this way, but I didn’t want to get it dirty -’

You shake your head hastily. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s - perfect.’

Something breathless in your tone catches his ear, and he tilts his head to the side, one large hand coming to rest on his hip, thick fingers spread obnoxiously wide over the side of the chaps. The beginning of a cocky smile lifts the corner of his mouth. ‘Yeah, darlin’? You like it?’

Leaving your mug on the counter top, you bite your lip and give him your best teasing grin. ‘Why don’t you turn around so I can take a better look, cowboy?’

He arches an eyebrow at your boldness, but decides to indulge you. Voice dropping an octave, he rasps, ‘Better take a seat for this, darlin’.’

You grin and do as you’re told, turning the kitchen chair around so that you’re facing him, running your eyes up and down his frame as he steps into your space, narrow hips swaying to a beat you can’t hear. Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he suddenly turns with a dramatic flourish and arches his back, granting you an unrivalled view of his behind framed by the chaps cut off at the top of his thighs, the ski suit tight against his pert bottom.

‘Enjoy the view, darlin’?’ he asks, grinning over his shoulder at you.

You swat him on one cheek playfully, and when he swoops suddenly into your lap in a classic burlesque move, you squeal, ‘Jack!’

Bending his knees, he grinds into your thighs as you laugh, the ski suit soft on your skin while the leather chaps scrape against your bare shins. Turning around, he reaches up to tug the suit’s zipper downwards in a slow, deliberate course, and he purrs, ‘What say you if ol’ cowboy Jack gives you a proper show, hmm?’

You inhale sharply as the white wife beater underneath comes into view, and you reach up to help him push one side of the ski suit off his shoulder, revealing the firm line of his left arm.

‘Thought that was more of Teak’s thing,’ you quip, licking your lips as your eyes skim down his front to settle on the weighty bulge now straining against the front of the suit, your eager fingers pulling him closer by his belt buckle.

Gripping the edge of the table, he traps you into your seat, his stare dropping to the matching pendant resting on your now heaving bosom, taking in your blown pupils as he grins. ‘Anythin’ for you, darlin’.’

‘Aren’t I the luckiest girl,’ you muse, taking off his hat and flinging it onto the table, his hungry stare alone pinning you in place when you drag him down to you by his lapels.

Warm lips part yours and he delves into your mouth, kissing you deeply. The promise of more leaves you chasing him as he draws back with a drawl. ‘You’re about to get a whole lot luckier, darlin’.’

The thick material of the ski suit is almost pillowy as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. It rubs gently on your nipples as you rock against Jack, arms wound around his neck while his desperate hands cup and knead the plump swell of your ass, dragging you up and down his hard cock.

‘That’s it, you’re ridin' me beautifully, darlin’,’ he growls into your ear, exhaling hot and heavy as he nips your collar bone. ‘Missed you so much.’

His chaps are slippery under your bare thighs from your slick, and you clench at the sensation of being completely naked on top of him when he’s still fully clothed, only his belt and zipper undone so that he can fuck up into you, the rickety kitchen chair groaning under the weight of the two of you.

‘Missed you too,’ you whisper against his lips, crying out when he hits a particularly deep spot inside you. ‘Yes, yes, harder, Jack.’

Leaning forward, he takes one breast into his hot mouth, one eye on your necklace that’s sticking to your sweaty skin before licking you between your tits and over the silver pendant, the salt sharp on his tongue. He hums, ‘You wear it so well.’

‘I won’t take it off, ever,’ you swear, throwing your head back when he scrapes his teeth against the column of your neck, so full of him that your knees quake.

‘Good,’ growls Jack, thrusting harder into you, making your breath stutter. ‘Keep me with you, darlin’ - always.’

You smile, fingers curled into his hair, stealing a tender moment as your noses bump and eyes meet with the easiest promise you will ever keep. ‘Always.’

Notes: Am I allowed to pick favourites? I'm not? I'm doing it anyway -- this is my favourite out of all the holiday fics, no question! I'm so soft for cowboy Jack and his darlin' 🥹 We've been spending time with just the two of them so far in the series, so it was really fun to explore the group situations, especially with the Kingsman involved!

I hope you enjoyed this fluffy interlude. Wishing you all a very merry Christmas and thank you so much for reading ❤️

#jack daniels x you #jack daniels fanfic #jack daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels #jack daniels #jack daniels x fem!reader #jack daniels x f!reader #kingsman golden circle #fuckyeahholidays #‘tis palomino season

[he-goes-down]

There was a time:

Previous chapters/ warnings

A/N: this took like 3 weeks to finish, its longer than the other ones and at some points im just out of it so bear with me 🙏 (also additional rockstars, gifs at the end too) I also got too tired to keep changing povs

8. Look At Your Game Girl:

Second person pov:

It was soon Christmas Day, there was no big celebration or party as it was all leading up to a big New Year’s house party at one of Slash’s friends place in the hills. At least your Christmas day wasn’t horrible, everyone contributed to presents, even Axl as he was meant to go to Erin’s, but they were on a break. He wasn’t fazed and from you talking to her on the phone she was glad that they were taking a break. (She then told in secret that she met this new guy just as a fling and to not tell Axl as he would be furious.) But of course, when Axl goes onto other girls on break or not on break his girl shouldn’t care or complain. Axl’s present to you was a very fancy spoon that he stole from some old rich lady’s house, in return you gave him a red bandana. He was confused, but he tried it on, and he never took it off for the rest of the day, you brought him his iconic style. Slash gave you a ‘world’s best dad mug’ but scratched it out with a sharpie and said manager but written as ‘MAnGre’. Duff had given you a tea pot that he made in a pottery class he tried once when he was drunk out of his mind, but he said that his mind was on you when he was making it and put a lot of effort into it. It was slightly lobsided and concave in certain sections but the patterns and colours he used were very pretty. Steven gave you a cute keychain and said he’d share some of is coke with you later. Izzy, which was surprising, gave you a vinyl of one of your favourite albums from a more underground band from the 70’s. You had only mentioned the band a few times, but it wasn’t ever directed in conversations you had, or the little conversations you had. 

It was soon New Year’s Eve, Izzy and Duff went out to get some booze for the party and just fuck around town a bit, Axl was out somewhere unknown. Getting laid, getting arrested, picking fights, getting arrested for picking fights, doing unknown drugs, getting arrested for being in possession of said drugs, getting laid again. You pick. You, Slash and Steven were the only ones in the house. The Golden Trio. You were looking through your outfits to find a good one to wear to the party. You planned to get some tonight, or maybe at the minimum get a new year’s kiss and a fling because being tied to these gorgeous men and not being able to be with any of them was taking a slight toll on you. “Slash get in here!” You shouted throughout the house from your shared room. “Hmm?” He quirked as he slid into the doorway. “Pick one.” You held up two dresses. A short red cocktail dress, and a long black slit dress, both of which had small dainty straps to hold it up on your shoulders and the hanger. “Shit, I’d love to see you in the red one.” He smirked, ‘see’ meaning ‘fuck’. “Yeah, yeah whatever. But it doesn’t match the jacket, and I don’t want anything down there to freeze off.” You spoke. “I’ll keep you warm.” He flirted. You rolled his eyes, he always put in a dirty joke when he could. “Stevie! Get in here I need a second opinion instead of this buffoon.” You called out to him. Soon he walked into the room and stood next to Slash. He looked at the options in one quick look. “Red one. Red one. Please.” He repeated. You gave him a look. “Fine, the black one.” He groaned a fake groan. “Thank you.” You replied. “NOOOOO!” Slash started to have a fake tantrum begging for you to change your mind. You put the dress back and hang the black one on the doorknob. “Wait you know actually…” You spoke to yourself and swapped the dresses places. The red one now hanging on the doorknob to the cupboard. “Slash can I use your leather jacket? You know the one that’s slightly brown and bleached. The one that should stink like shit but doesn’t.” You told him. He basically ran to get it and bowed in front of you with it. “Madam.” He spoke. “Okay, get out I need to change.” You told them. 

You got to the living room with your outfit on and some light makeup, they both wolf whistled at the same time. They were like your personal hype men. “You know the party isn’t for a few hours though?” Steven said. “Yeah.” You spoke. “I thought I could go scout out someone to go with to the party.” You explained. “Speed dating!” Steven exclaimed. Slash whipped his head to face Steven. They started to have a telepathic conversation. You were quite confused, but they soon explained that they’ll come with you on this trip and select guys they know to have a little date with you at a bar. You didn’t object, this would be a fun experience. You didn’t necessarily trust their judgement, but you trusted them enough that they wouldn’t introduce you to a serial killer. You headed to one of the more upstaged bar in town and made your seating on one the stools while Slash and Steven sat in a booth nearby. Slash went out to the phone next to the bar and called up someone. This happened a few times as the people weren’t really your type, (They hadn’t showered in months), or you just didn’t feel a spark between you two, (One guy got his feet out and asked you to massage them.). You sat down with an exasperated sigh at Slash and Steven’s booth. They were trying to think of another guy to call up. “Okay, next one I don’t care who. I’ll settle with. I’ve had enough of this.”  You said as you ran your hands through your hair in a way to prepare for the next man.  “Come on look at your game girl. We have to get you the right man.” Slash said. “You haven’t been very good at it.” You rolled your eyes, “What about musicians? You really know how to make their heels spin.” Slash suggested.  “Fine, but no bass players.” You warned. “What a shame, because Duff-…” Slash started but Steven nudged him in the stomach with his elbow. Slash began to cough up utters and uncertainties. “Because- uh,” he coughed, “He knows a lot of other sexy players, yeah, yeah.” He finished nervously. Steven facepalmed and laid his head on the table in defeat. “I wouldn’t mind having a date with Duff.” You said nonchalantly, as you took a sip of your second margarita. “YOU WHAT!?” They both howled in unison. “What, I’m just saying he’s fine.” You replied, “So, so fine.” You added. He was absolutely gorgeous, and him being a sweetheart and taller than a skyscraper added a lot more to the appeal. Thinking about Duff made you start thinking about Axl again. ‘Shit.’ You thought, you needed advice. “Changing the topic, I need help. There is this… one guy that I like. It’s a bit complicated.” You began. They were all ears. “So, we kissed, but then the next week he got a gf, but now they’re broken up and I don’t know what to do.” You explained. Slash was trying to think who it would be, but Steven got it immediately and his jaw was on the floor. “Nuh uh, nuh uh. Stay away from A-… That man.” Steven protested. “A… A…” Slash thought and repeated. Then the biggest gasp came out his body. “AXL!?” “SHHHHHHH” you put your hand on his mouth and shushed him. “When? What? WHY?” He started again after you parted your hand from his mouth. “I thought that broke your no dating rule?” Steven enquired. “That’s why I don’t know what to do!” You said. Slash put his hand on your shoulder and put on a serious face. Silence. “Do not. Go for. That ginger.” Slash said slowly. He was vouching for Duff but also being serious. Axl and dating didn’t always go good together. You guys talked more about it and ended on a, ‘Don’t speak to him unless spoken too.’ And ‘Try ignore him as much as possible, without making him lose his shit.’

You decided against continuing with Slash and Steven’s horrible suitors, even after Slash was begging you to try ‘this one guy’ he had in mind, you’d rather just get laid at the party than prebook someone at this point. It was about 9pm when you, Slash and Steven got there. It was a huge house that could probably fit the whole population of a micro country in it. Most of the people were guys from rock bands that are just forming and deputing. All the girls there were gorgeous but were getting their face eaten by some scum looking man. A song from Def Leppard’s ‘Pyromania’ album was playing as you walked in - you actually worked with them on it, but you were a manager in training -. Slash scattered, either looking for girls, booze or Duff. You and Steven began to slowly take in your surroundings. “Y/N? Is that you?” You heard a familiar voice, and all of a sudden you felt someone wrap their arms around you from behind and pick you up. You yelped in surprise and confusion. You looked back to see Richie. Richie Sambora, guitarist of Bon Jovi, and the familiar voice approached you from the front. The man of the hour, Jon Bon fucking Jovi. “Richie put her down!” Jon laughed. If your past-self wasn’t the one in full control you would have thrown yourself at him with no second thought. JON BON FUCKING JOVI. He put you down and smiled a greeting, and you did the same. Jon came to you and gave you a bear hug. “God, I missed you. How have you been?” He asked excitedly. “I’m doing okay.” You smiled and spoke as Richie leaned on your shoulder. “How are you and the rest doing? I haven’t had time to listen to your new record, I’m glad one of had the backbone to talk to management and get it out this early.” You spoke. “We’re doing great, the album’s really making us some money.” Jon replied. Steven whispered a soft “Who the fuck are these guys?” In your ear. You explained how you co-managed with some idiot on their first album back in 83’ and started going over silly stories about the tour. Steven and You soon started to talk about you going to manage Guns ‘n Roses, Richie said it was a ‘kickass name’. After a few topic changes, you began to wonder. “Hey, is David here tonight?” You asked as you tapped Jon the shoulder.  “I knew you’d ask that.” He replied. “Who?” Steven enquired. “Oh? So, you haven’t told them about your past dating life?” He raised his eyebrow with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes. “Why didn’t you bring this up at our gossip sessions!?” Steven was flabbergasted. “Yeah, N/N why didn’t you?” Richie teased. “Just tell me where he is.” You crossed your arms. “Over there somewhere.” Jon chuckled as he pointed. “Just don’t get too close! He might pounce on you when he sees you wearing that!” Richie yelled and teased as you began walking away. You and David were dating whilst you managed for Bon Jovi, which broke your first cardinal rule with bands, but it wasn’t established back then. Your relationship was great but had to fall out as your co manager thought it unruly and kicked you out simply for being a girl in the industry. The guys were furious as you did all the work and he mostly just sat back, and chain smoked all day. In the crowd of people, you saw a tall figure with jagged long hair, and everyone around him was laughing as he made jokes. David Bryan. 

Slash’s POV:

I had finally found Duff after making a few detours to get booze. He was in one of the corners by a useless arch in the middle of the room. “Hey dude.” I greeted to him and gave him a beer I bought with. “What we lookin’ at?” I asked. His eyes were focused on a particular point of the room. “That guy Y/N’s with.” Duff said, his eyes laser focused on the two. “Her and Stevie were talking to the guys over there. Well after one of them picked her up.” He said in a very serious tone as he pointed to where Steven was, talking to two other guys; one with dark long hair and bangs, and another; taller, lighter brown hair which was longer and puffier, and a crazy jawline. “Then she went to that guy after one of them pointed him out.” Duff was going all out detective on me. He was back to scanning and deciphering every little movement of her and this guy. He’s tall, about same height as Duff. But he seems funnier as she’s laughing and giggling at everything he’s saying. I took a swig of my drink looking around the party for some hot girls to pull, I was getting a bit tired of just looking at the two of them flirt with one another. I took a quick glance at Duff, and he was slowly and dramatically turning his head to face me. His mouth a gape. Once he did a full 90 degree he stopped. “Is that your jacket?” He spoke. “She asked for it!” I jumped to the defensive. Duff wouldn’t be mad at me but god, he could whoop my ass if I did something out of line. He could be a real mom sometimes.

-

“I need you to do a job for me.” I started to speak. “See that girl over there.” I pointed. He nodded in response. “Break the bitch’s heart. Somehow. I don’t care, just do it.” I finished and slipped him five dollars, and we began to make our way through the crowd. 

-

Second Person POV:

You and David were catching up on what has been happening these past years. Reminiscing on the memories when you were an item. Your stomach started to hurt as you were laughing your ass off with him. “Where’d you get this jacket?” He asked and started to play the material on the shoulder and slowly worked his way to play with the ends of your hair. You didn’t mind the occasional flirt he slipped in with you. You did that same. After you two broke up you knew that you wouldn’t get back together and it was a thing of the present, but flirting and going further weren’t necessarily off the table. “I borrowed it from Slash. He’s probably somewhere over there. You craned your neck to search over the crowd of people. “What do you date superheroes now? What kind of name is that?” He joked. You rolled your eyes. “What kind of basic name is David?” You gave him a look. “Touché.” He said. “For your information we’re not dating. He’s the lead guitarist of a band I’m managing.” You explained. You looked into the pool of people again, “Oh, he’s coming over here right now.” You said with surprise. “He’s the one with similar hair to you, before your straightened it and whatever that thing on your head is.” You teased. “Hey! Be nice!” He fought back and chuckled. Slash soon made it to the two of you in a rush. “Hey! Hey! Can I have my jacket back?” He asked frantically. “Yeah sure. It’s getting hot in here anyway.” You smiled. Unzipping the jacket, taking it off and handing it to him. “Thanks.” He replied and went back into the crowd again in a quick movement. “Woah…” David said. His hand placed on your forearm and the other hovering over your waist, but further away into the air. He eyed you up and down with his blue eyes. “Shit, you’re still smoking… Even more if that’s possible. Damn.” He lavished in your being. You blushed, it burned your cheeks. You kept plating off jokes to try calm down the hellfire that was riding on your skin.

“I’m gonna go get more drinks, you want?” You asked. “Yes, thanks doll.” He side hugged you. “Be back soon.” He said, and began to start a conversation with the people he was previously talking to. You made your way to one of the walls were drinks were served, it was surprisingly not that crowded, most of the people just came there to get stuff and got to their corners. You poured the unknown mixture of booze in two red solo cups, and as you were about to depart from the alcohol station you were surprised the person you were suggested not to interact with. Axl. “Who was that guy you were talking to you?” He didn’t look aggravated or any kind or indication that he was. What was he planning? Why talk to you now? Now in such a casual way? You weren’t that close anymore. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?” You didn’t care if you were seen as bitter and petty, you wanted him to know that what he did still bothered you, even if he was too thick to know what it was. He got annoyed at that response, but not at you, at David, and started to cuss him out. With disses like, ‘Oh what the fuck is that haircut.’ Or going off about his height. You just rolled your eyes and took sips of your drink not really listening to his rambling. But the last parts caught your attention, saying how ‘he knows a guy’ that is better than David and is more meant for you and how ‘look at you game girl’ because you deserved someone better instead of ‘Flirting with some rando at a party.’ You decided to respond to his drunken nonsense. “Oh? And who would that be?” You couldn’t believe a word out of his face. This wasn’t the Axl you knew, trying to set you up with someone else, you were going to call it and guess he was talking about himself.  “Let me get him. Hold on babe.” He said, and he stepped back slightly to look for this mystery man. Now you were intrigued. Will his taste be better than Slash and Stevens? Maybe this was some plot to make it seem better that he hurt you. Maybe he knew that other people in his life have feelings too. Finally, he might have realised that. But he quickly returned with another man next to him; a taller man, same height as Duff and David, long blonde hair. Absolutely charismatic by just his looks. “This is-…” “Seb!?” You cut Axl off. You handed your drinks to Axl and he confusedly took them and you jumped into the tall man’s arms for a hug. “Shit it actually is you!” He responded excitedly. Sebastian Bach, another one of your former partners. Not Bach like the composer from the 1700s. But like the guy that played Gil in Gilmore Girls. His large hands placed on both your forearms as he looked you up and down, only having a vague impression on what he was thinking. “That’s fucking radical man! Thanks Ax!” Sebastian said as he hit Axl on the forearm, but Axl being dazed and confused and Sebastian being slightly drunk and not knowing his own strength, threw the drinks slightly out of his hand and it spilled a bit. “Uh… you’re welcome.” Axl responded. “Ax how did you and Baz meet? I didn’t know you were literally friends with everyone” You directed to last part to Seb. You were too tipsy and too excited to show off and frustration towards Axl, and it was making your blood pump now that Axl is a similar situation like you were with Erin. “Here’s your money back dude.” Sebastian gave him five dollars but he hesitantly took it as he was still shocked and confused. You looked at both of them back and forth, puzzled, but before you could ask questions David appeared from the wall of people. “Hey! I was wondering what was taking you so long.” He said with a smile as he approached. Then he proceeded to do a fake dramatized scene saying things along the lines ‘You left me to take to other guys’ but he was just joking around and he chuckled softly.

You, David and Sebastian were having a good time, tossing jokes and stories left right and centre. Axl had left, with a generic excuse, or he didn’t? You couldn’t remember, you didn’t really care. Before he left it was quite funny to see him surrounded by your two over 6-foot ex boyfriends towering over him as they casually talked and he just stood there. Finally, he wasn’t the big and intimidating one in the picture. “Oh, my fucking god...” You heard a loud huff from someone. It was Steven. “Your- your. Friend Jon oggly boogly, whatever the fuck his name is- He’s so jacked at beer pong. You need to see this.” He said as he panted excitedly. You all followed Steven to a pool table surrounded by people, there were red cups lined up on the table in strange patterns, and all the pool balls were lined up on one of the sides. Jon was the only one of that side, holding a pool stick in hand, getting ready to hit the ball closest to him. He hit it and it landed in one of the cups, people cheered, then he did a chain of hitting a ball, then hitting another and another, all in a line, and they all landed in respective cups. People cheered and applauded. David was one of the loudest ones, and went over to congratulate him. You and Sebastian did too, but David and Baz were much louder and energetic, even though Sebastian had never met him. That’s just the kind of guy he was; all in for the action. Sebastian soon joined you, as you were spectating the scene. David and Jon were off bonding and David really tried to beat Jon at his epic party trick. You and Baz talked about this band he’s in and that he’s wrote a few songs about you, well it was already written, but it was fine-tuned, and then that sparked new songs to be written.

Meanwhile, Steven was on his way to relay some information he had found out to his buddy Slash.

“Slash! Slash! Slash!” Steven yelled and panted as he got to Slash. Duff was next to him chatting but they both stop talking and looked at Steven. Steven the whispered things in Slash’s ear, but that didn’t help as Slash repeated what he said in a yell. “She’s fucked them before!?” He yelled but Steven covered his mouth and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. “Who now?” Duff asked. “Those two guys over there, were in another band she worked with.” Steven explained in a calm voice to Slash. “And. Don’t go crazy. Those two. Are her ex boyfriends.” Steven said and there was a pause as he took his hand away from Slash’s mouth. Silence. Slash’s mouth was a gape. “And she didn’t tell us!?” He yelled. Steven rolled his eyes at Slash screaming. “That’s what I’m saying!” Steven joined in but not as loud as Slash. “What the hell are you guys on about?” Duff asked. Slash and Steven looked at each other with grimaces. “It doesn’t matter.” They said in unison. They didn’t want Duff to worry about his ‘little’ crush. “Slash have you told Duff what Y/n said today?” Steven asked, just remembering what she said about him. “OH SHIT NO!” he yelled excitedly and turned to Duff to debrief the situation.

While that was being discussed you and Sebastian were getting slightly bored on the other side of the room watching other people getting hammered. 

He suggested to go explore this mansion this party was being held in and you easily agreed. You wandered around each hallway and floor. You had hold Seb back physically when you two came into the garage and he saw all the fancy cars standing there. He did somehow manage to get keys to one of the cars and began to drive it in the humongous garage. He did however instantly stop as he nearly drove into the garage door. You two searched through the rest of the floors and rooms. They were all virtually deserted as most people were outside on one the main floor. You then came across an at home movie theatre and put on some nonsensical movie and just shouted at the screen. Seb also ran through the aisles and played hide and seek with you, sometime parkouring his way over the seats. But he was too tall, and his long blonde hair was easy catch on the eye in the dark. “Oh shit, hide!” You heard him whisper shout. You had just caught him jumping from one aisle to another, but he grabbed your arm and took you with him to the ground. Someone had opened the door the theatre. You stayed in silence for a bit on the floor, looking at each other, but the more you looked into each other’s eyes the more you just wanted to laugh. The Movie had been switched off and you heard footsteps coming closer. It then stopped. And then got quieter, heading to the door and the out of the room. There was a pause as you looked into each other’s eyes. Your faces so close together. His breath on yours. Your faces drawing closer. Both of you started to burst out laughing.

After crying and laughing on the floor you got up and began exploring more. This time it was you having to hide, and Sebastian had to find you. It was nearly midnight at this point, and you were close enough to the main aide of the party to hear that they were playing Van Halen. You were hiding in one of the rooms in the corridor that lead to the main party area.  Seb was peaking in the room next to where you were. You sneakily opened to door, you looked to where he was. Most of his body past the door and his head not visible as he was peering into the room next to yours. You tiptoed away from the room you were in and then began to run down the hallway. But Seb was quick to be on your tail. You both laughed as you were running. You were soon met with the end of the hallway, it did turn to the right and followed down, but you didn’t calculate that and so now you were against the wall just look at Seb run towards you. It did make you laugh harder as he was so close to you but then tripped over his own feet. His hand landed on either side of you on the wall as he tried to catch himself. The laughter stopped and he looked up at you after having a small pause to look down at the position he was in. Looking into each other’s eyes again. The world around you started to fade away. Getting butterflies again. This was just like how it was whne you dated before, and he was even more gorgeous. His hazel eyes starring into yours, his taller figure moving closer to your smaller one. Your faces getting closer. Lips tingling. Warm breaths mingling. He looked at your lips then back into your eyes, asking for permission. You nodded and his lips drew closer to yours. Painstakingly slow. You softly closed your eyes, waiting for the familiar feel of his kiss. Bout it was quickly stopped as both of you shot your heads to the side at the sound of one of the doors opening revealing a random man. He looked at you two and you looked back. He was only in his underwear and a tie around his neck and had a gullible look on his face. He took the tie off his neck and put it on the doorknob, and quietly but quickly going back into the room and closing the door. You both you looked back at each other in slow motion and then broke down in the laughter for the hundredth time today. You didn’t finish what you two started but went down the other corridor towards the party. 

On the other side of the party Slash, Steven and Duff were in deep conversation. “And then! And then! Get this.” Slash spoke. “She said, ‘I’m just saying he’s fine’! and then said, ‘so, so fine.’! YOU HAVE CHANCE MY BROTHER.” He continued. “Are you sure? Like sure, sure?” Duff asked. “Yes man. I was there too!” Steven piped in. “Look she’s over there. If you’re close enough now you can get a new year’s kiss.” Slash said to Duff with a scheming expression on his face. “Yeah, but look, that guy is talking to her.” Duff pointed out. You and Sebastian were standing on the other side of the room, closet to the doors that lead to a big balcony where you basically see the rest of L.A. “Well, if you don’t do it. Then I’ll take that opportunity.” Slash said, eyeing you from a far. Duff gave him a death stare. That comment sent Duff to go make his move.

It was now a few seconds to midnight, people have started to count down. The song over the speakers was now ‘Why Can’t This Be Love’ by Van Halen. You and Sebastian were slowly swaying together to the song, looking at each other and looking out to the balcony where the lights of the city were scattered like stars. The countdown was now at 10 seconds. ‘10’ the crowd of people said in unison. Seb put his hand on your hip and pulled you closer him. ‘9’. Duff and the two others make their way through the crowd of people. ‘8’. You put your arms around Sebastian’s neck. ‘7’. Slash stopped to get a drink. ‘6’. Sebastian whispered a corny joke in your ear. ‘5’. You laughed and he held you closer. ‘4’. He whispered in your ear. ‘3’ what he said made your face burn hot. ‘2’ A random woman snatched Duff from the crowd and started to make out with him. ‘1’ Sebastian pulled you closer and kissed you. You quickly kissed him back. Your lips slowly crashing together and both of you trying to desperately get closer to each other. The fireworks in going off in the background made the spark between the two of you burn hotter. After finally letting go of each other, looking over to the sparks of colourful lights explode in the sky outside of the balcony. You two went closer to the doors to get a wider look at the landscape of L.A exploding with fireworks. Him holding you close by his one hand on your hip, whispering another innuendo in your ear, you agreed flirtatiously. As you were about to rush off to one of the bedrooms you were called by a familiar voice that resided from the balcony. Axl. ‘For fuck sake again?’ You thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin another hook up again. You excused yourself to Sebastian and he gladly waited for you. You walked to the balcony where Axl stood by the railing, as you were close enough, he began to speak. “Hey listen-…” He started but you cut him off. “No you listen here. I don’t know what sad fucking game you’re playing at, but leave me out of it.” You said to him sternly. There was a pause, he was shocked at the response and then began to retaliate. “I’m only tryna be a good friend and look out for you! No need to be a bitch!” He yelled back. You wanted to slap him off the railing so bad. “What friend? We haven’t been friends ever since you thought it was a good idea to leave me out to dry like I’m some sort of prostitute to you?” you said without skipping a beat. “Is this about Erin?” He asked with distain. “No, it’s not about fucking Erin. It’s about you. You dating her and not even a week after we kissed. Did that even matter to you? Do you even remember it? Or is your brain still attached to your dick like always.” You responded, all these emotions were about to make you cry. But you held back. You wanted him to be the one that cries. “Yeah but-…” He tried to retaliate but you shut his responses down quickly until he was a bumbling fool. “Just. Just shut up. I’m not going to let you ruin another night for me.” You said. You walked away from him mumbling the words ‘Fucking narcissist’, under your breathe as you left him standing on the balcony.

You got to Sebastian, and he took your hand leading to who knows which bedroom. Duff on the other hand had finally got that chick off him, and tried looking for you but when he caught a glimpse of you. Slash covered his eyes. He tried fighting Slash off but Slash didn’t want Duff to see you being lead off with some other guy to do you know what.

Richie Sambora(left), Jon Bon Jovi(right) From Bon Jovi

David Bryan From Bon jovi

Sebastian Bach from Skid Row

(Additional song)

#Spotify #guns n roses #axl rose #slash #duff mckagan #izzy stradlin #steven adler #axl gnr #slash gnr #duff gnr #izzy gnr #steven gnr #axl rose x reader #slash x reader #duff mckagan x reader #izzy stradlin x reader #steven adler x reader #guns n roses fanfic #gnr fanfiction #gnr x reader #gnr #bon jovi #jon bon jovi #richie sambora #david bryan #skid row #sebastian bach

[haleyhunwritess]

you have to make a part 3 to that mob!bucky. Okay so Natalie cheated but Bucky should’ve have lied to reader and why didn’t they get a divorce? honestly reader should’ve thrown in bucky’s face that he is still married and she had the right to date

Trust (Who is she? Part 3)

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟭 / 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

warnings: mafia!james x reader, natasha x steve

a/n: here is the update <3 i missed writing dark fics LOL, i kind of have a taglist for this but if you'd like to be added then let me know <3

Trust is a weapon. It is the most expensive thing to exist in this world. It could take years to build but through one simple mistake, it only takes a few seconds to lose it.

James was a loyal man. Despite what he did for a living, he was a loyal man to those he loved. Once you were in his life, you were either with him or against him. Those against him never survived. If you were with him, you became invincible against the darkness. It's part of the reason why Natalia loved him as much as she did. But it's also what scared the hell out of her. If anyone crossed him, he'd bury them. And, she'd really fucking crossed him. Betraying him with his assistant, in the same bed they shared. On his favourite sheets.

She knew he was going to kill her the second he caught her. The minute she looked into his eyes, she just knew she was seconds away from dying. She quickly pulled away from the girl and covered herself up with the sheets. She closed her eyes, knowing what was coming. She didn't bother apologizing or begging for forgiveness, not because she was afraid to say anything but because she knew it was no use.

She flinched when she heard the door slam. She opened her eyes and noticed that he left. He left without saying a word. She looked outside her window, and saw James getting into his car. He drove away and didn't return until late at night.

She'd kicked out the girl by then and was waiting for him in the living room. She knew he was either drinking with Steve or trying to get back at her by sleeping with someone else. She knew she deserved it, especially after what she'd done.

She quickly got up from the couch when she heard the door open. She expected James to walk in but instead it was Steve. She sighed, walking back over to the couch.

"I know I fucked up, Steve. I don't wanna hear it from you."

"I'm here with a message from James. He said..." Steve looked down, already feeling bad about what he was going to say, "...he said leave, and if he ever sees you again he won't hesitate to shoot you this time."

Natalia looked outside her window one last time before starting to make her way upstairs. She wasn't oblivious, she knew it wasn't the storm that was making all that noise. She knew he was going to confront her after the stunt she'd pulled.

"You know you really should keep your back door locked. It's dangerous to leave it unlocked like that, especially with this weather." It was like deja vu. She was waiting for James but Steve was here instead. He really hated her.

"Well I knew James would come here, so I thought I'd leave that door open for him. Didn't want him breaking down any doors, my new neighbours are already kinda nosey." She grabbed the kettle off the counter, and started filling it up with water, "Why are you here? Where is he?"

"He's on his way. He uh, he doesn't know I'm here..." She looked up at him, confused by his confession. Surely, he wasn't here to warn her, was he?

"Did you come here to warn me or something?" She put the kettle down on the stove, turning it on high. He quietly nodded, taking a seat at the table.

"Look, I don't want him to hurt you. I know you still love him, but you broke his heart. And he was doing better with–"

"With that naive girl? Is she actually as innocent as she looks or are the doe eyes just an act?"

Steve ignored her question, "She makes him happy...and she really loves him."

"Does he love her? I don't care about her, does he love her?" She sighed, grabbing two mugs out of the cupboard. She placed tea bags in both of them, and filled them up with hot water.

"I think so..." He mumbled, looking away from her.

"I...I didn't come back to be with him. I don't love him anymore." She handed him one of the mugs and sat down at the table with hers "I'm just sick of not being able to move on with my life because he can't even face me. I just want him to sign the papers and I'll leave."

"You'll actually leave if he signs them?" He raised his eyebrows at her in disbelief, while slowly drinking the tea, "No mind games or any bullshit like that, you'll leave?"

"You have my word." She smiled, sipping on her own mug.

"Okay. I'll talk to him." Steve put down the empty mug, and took out his phone out to call James. He unlocked his phone and searched for James's contact as his vision started to blur a bit. He rubbed his eyes but continued to phone James. The first call didn't go through so he tried again. Soon, he couldn't even sit up straight at the table and looked up at Natalia. "What did you do?" He mumbled as he slowly closed his eyes and slumped back down in his chair.

"Hello? Steve?" She smiled, listening to James's voice as he finally picked up. She took the phone out of Steve's hand.

"Hi Sweetheart, don't bother coming over right now. I'm not sure you want to see Steve like this.

"Natalia...What did you do?"

"Nothing yet, he's alive don't worry. Come over tomorrow morning with your girl. I know you won't hurt me with her around. You wouldn't want her to see you for who you really are. This way I can be sure you won't try to kill me, plus i have Steve here as double assurance. Tomorrow morning, 8am. Do not be late."

Trust really is the ultimate weapon. Steve trusted Natalia. Unbeknownst to him, he trusted a version of her that was no longer there. After all, she knew James wasn't the only one responsible for killing the woman she'd been in love with. Natalia was the one who cheated, not her. She didn't deserve to die. Someone had to pay for her death. Lucky for her, it seemed that James had finally found someone that could pay the price.

#bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #marvel fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!steve rogers #bucky barnes fic #buckysteve #dark!steve rogers #dark!natasha romanoff x reader

[toomuchracket]

Longtermbf!matty. Tormenting him with that quote about crappy coffee and boys who don’t care. Like captioning an Instagram post and crediting it to him. Or buying him a T Shirt with it on. Being asked your favourite Matty quote and quoting that (before admitting you’re joking and disclosing your favourite real lyric of his, of course).

i forgot about that quote oh my goddddddddd. also this feels very birthday-partyverse-coded to me for some reason. like maybe someone sends a screenshot of the tumblr quote (when it's originally posted) to the groupchat and everyone's pissing themselves laughing because - and matty points this out - how the fuck is it being attributed to him? it's so obviously not something he'd say! and it's a bit within your friend group for a while and then you all kinda forget about it, until years later when you're in urban outfitters (i don't know why, you just are) and they have a mug in the homeware section with the quote printed on it (because they would) and you're like. i have to buy this. and it's common knowledge you and matty are dating at this point so the girl at the till is like "oh my god?" when you hand her it to scan and you're like "i'm going to take the piss out of him SO BAD with this". and then when you get home you take a pic of yourself drinking from the mug and post it to insta like "jazzed with my new purchase today. have truer words ever been spoken?" and the fans are LOLing in the comments. and then the bold trumanblack comments on it like "you did not fucking buy that. jesus christ" and you reply "obv i did? and it's from urban so if you throw it out you'll be wasting like £48393 ly babe xo". and matty comes home and just throws total daggers at the mug but doesn't say anything about it. every time he's doing the dishes and it's there he grits his teeth and tries not to lob it out the window (you actually do use it regularly so he admits it would be a waste to get rid). and the next time you do a solo interview (maybe a social media one on the red carpet at a literary event) you get asked what quote of yours matty likes best and you're like aww that's a cute question and you answer it honestly, and then they ask you what your favourite of his is. and your brain just goes 😈 and you look dead into the camera (like matty talking about that fucking hyundai) and say the quote from your mug, and then laugh and say "no, that's a lie, i just like riling him up" and then you say your actual fave matty line. and when matty sees the vid on twitter or whatever it goes straight on the insta story like "she's lucky she's so hot that she can get away with tormenting me with this shit. nobody else could. just her. because i love her. even if she is a pain in the nose" <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #into the birthday partyverse

[yzeltia]

A Violet Story

Title: In Want of a Friend Characters: Violet Fisher, Leonnioux Ouraux, @erickgage 's Erick Gage, @eorziapple's Apple Silverberg, @driftward 's Zoissette Vauban Rating: T Notes: Line Break is During @eorziapple 's Rebirth

I've never thought I'd be the sentimental type but here we are. You'd think saving the world and settling down to a ship of your own, a work-when-you-want job, and seemingly endless resources for your hobbies would be enough to feel nice and fulfilled. The peace that I helped foster should have been reward enough, especially with how much I bitched and moaned every step of the way. That's what a hero would say. The doors my talents and accomplishments have opened for me so that I could live the life I'd dreamed would be enough for the old me. Being left the fuck alone to do whatever I want whenever I want. 

All of it feels really fucking empty. 

I sighed as I swirled the last bit of whisky around the bottom of my glass. Leonnioux, the Ishgardian Lord turned bartender, seemed to be focused on some young Auri girl in a booth, neglecting to keep my glass from emptying. It didn't bother me though. He was usually attentive enough and offered small talk as needed. Anything more than that I'd probably find myself a new bar…though perhaps that wasn't out of distaste for conversation but that I had discovered he married my half-brother's husband when being shown our family registry. I'd let that cat out of the bag in Doma and wasn't about to be shuttered out of my favourite haunt by being the one to bring this 10-gil romance novel to the poor Lord’s door.

Still, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Everyone has somewhere to be. U'rahn finally gets to be a baby factory. Jannie is getting married. The Scions come and go with their requests but now that there's nothing really keeping us together I get to be alone with who I thought was the best company: myself.

 It turns out…I’m kind of awful company.

This isn't all bad news though. It turns out, I know my friends really love me to put up with me and still want to be around when they can. I don't resent them for their happiness. I'm excited to see Rahn be a goofy dad and Jannie is finally doing things for herself. Such silly thoughts that bring a smile to my lips…and still, for now I'm on the peripheral and need my own thing. 

The research team here at GA seemed a good start but how do you bridge that gap when you've been willfully unapproachable for so long and when you've finally got your head out of your ass too much is going on to make things right? “Hi. I'm Violet. I'm sorry I was an ass before and I know someone’s just launched themselves into void for whatever reason but would you like to go get drinks and maybe do a work hang because I'm a lonely twenty-something that just realised maybe having friends to share things with isn't the boogeyman I made it out to be?” Yeah. That's real natural. 

Even if I did just open myself up, who would I even approach? Everyone seems to have their entourage or are too hyper focused in their projects to attempt to bother with my sudden social cravings. Well, save one or two. There was one though…if I remembered right. Another Limsan.

I swirled my glass again, this time to find Leonnioux standing behind the bar, sliding me a mug of my favored ale in his polite way to tell me I should start easing up. I thanked him of course before holding my hand up.

“Hey. You're familiar enough with the company roster? There's a girl that comes in here. Limsan with like bad ass aetheric tattoos on her face and runs with the science crew,” I asked.

“Apple Silverberg. Dark Maelstrom with two candied gingers instead of one ,” he said thoughtfully.

If he wasn't so painfully in love with that damn Miqo'te I'd jump him. There's nothing hotter than an encyclopedia, especially a bartending one. 

“Right. How did I forget a name like that,” I sighed, watching as Leonnioux ‘s gaze went from me to my drink and back to me.

“It's a mystery.”

“Wow. That was really fucking catty. You do have some bite under that highborn wall afterall.”

I  smiled to assure him I took no offense. I know what I'm about. He looked a bit relieved, if I had to guess the joke was testing how familiar he could get with his regulars. Turning away to wash glasses, he left me to my thoughts.

Apple. Fellow Limsan and research team member and…that's all I got. Still, she seemed to have the greatest chance of understanding me. I'd have to-

[This is Erick Gage, your boss, on the emergency line. I need a combat ready team to Azys Lla immediately for non-lethal combat. Details will be Mog-dropped into company tomestones on arrival. Gage out.]

I guess it's time to go be a team player. 

[Rebirth]

Of course it would be her. What a fucking terrible sense of humour fate has. My path to friendship of course was the big bad of the week and gave me a nasty scar to mark the occasion. It wasn't my first choice of a friendship meet-cute but at least it'll be an interesting one to laugh about later.

After the big fight I found myself being stitched up in the infirmary and settling in along with Apple’s friends and our coworkers to make sure she was going to be okay. It felt a bit weird at first but after we put together all the vibes we got from collectively Echoing off her I felt more certain that we'd get along.

 I'd tried not to be much of a bother as we waited. My only imposition had been to dip into the aetheric weave and call upon anyone that might help bring her comfort. A man had come, telling me to find an old stuffed Moogle on her house boat. Once cleared to leave, I went to retrieve the toy to bring it back. 

Most had gone for the night save for Zoissette. There was a seemingly appreciated silence between us as we let Apple rest. When Apple finally did stir, I found myself unable to explain my presence. I found myself saying the first thought that came to mind and rudely said, “It’s about time you woke up.”

#final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv oc #ff14 #ff xiv #violet fisher #apple silverberg #zoissette vauban #erick gage #leonnioux ouraux

[slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction]

OK so a few things from the penultimate episode of This Is Us just keep playing in my head and I feel I need to exorcise these demons and tumblr is definitely the place for that. Under the cut for spoilers and because no-one may want to see them at all but you're getting them anyway 😆

Come talk to me about it! Help me fill the void inside me!

In no particular order...

The concept of the train and hearing everyone's goodbyes over the tannoy and seeing people like Beth and Kevin and Sophie at different stages was really lovely and so well done.

Re different stages: the generations of Randall and Kevin? Are you KIDDING ME!? This was so lovely even from a show POV, seeing the actors portraying the same character interact. Big Randall doing the pushups with Little Randall and Big Kevin and Little Kevin looking at baseball cards because they're talking about these moments by Bec's bedside. Only one Katie Girl, which is a shame, but still loved that she was there at the end with her fireflies

Speaking of Kate, I'm sure you're meant to think Bec's waiting for Jack, but it was so sweet that it was Kate. I'm so glad they didn't decide to be asses and not have her show up. Thankfully it's not that kind of show.

But what kind of show is it? The heartbreaking kind. Because holy fucking hell Jack. Revisiting the night he died? Stop, why would you hurt me so? His smokey clothes and burned hands 😭 The words of wisdom shared anew. THE LAST SCENE OMFG I'M CRYING AGAIN!!! Just waiting for her to lie down beside him again. Owwwww my heart. Everything with Jack makes me a blubbering mess. Even freaking promo shots coz he's goooooonnnne 😭😭😭

Look, I know it's emotionally manipulative storytelling but I really don't care. I am gonna share in the highs and lows and cry and laugh thank you very much. The whole Jack dying so a kid who's gonna cure Alzheimer's in the future can live? Twee af but still, such is life sometimes. A balancing act of sorrow and joy, life and death.

I love that Randall was the one to say the goodbye speech for the Big Three because he was the one that took on Jack's mantle of Big Speeches when he died, so it was only fitting.

It occurred to me after that Bec only had conversations with those who had passed on, which was just so clever. William is such a sweet sweet man. And the doc! Ah god.

And Miguel. Lovely Miguel. That could've been awkward 😆 She's his favourite person but sorry buddy, Jack is her one and only.

The little objects from her life on the shelves. I'll have to look again but Jack's dad mug and baby Jack's boots stood out.

Really just a gorgeous gorgeous episode and an absolutely masterfully created show, weaving and connecting so much throughout the 6 seasons. The callbacks and connections are truly exquisite storytelling. I don't know how I'm gonna cope next week...

Mandy deserves an Emmy, for sure. And maybe she'll get one with this episode or for another from this season. I fear Milo's missed his chance, though. There was only one Jack-centric episode this season and while he was great in it (oh god, the funeral scene; the stepping away from the table and crying!!), I don't know if it'll get him an Emmy. Other seasons showcased his talent much better, but them's the breaks, it happens. Steve Carell never won for The Office and that was an absolute crying shame. Something something lemons etc.

#I may have more because I can't stop thinking of this episode #it truly broke me and gave me so much to think about #This Is Us #This Is Us spoilers #milo ventimiglia #mandy moore #sterling k brown #justin hartley #chrissy metz

[luckyqueenreign]

Hello dear!

Here comes the rant😆

What a heck I just read? FB for sure made some strange choices.

First of all - why we should twist with new boys? Mc should be sent home - like there literally was a text "if you single - you'd be dumped". Our theory about Finn and Kat twisting if MC single had much more sense!

Secondly. Suresh, dude, are you for real? Still playing games instead of showing everyone were you stand. And Lulu seems really sweet, how dare he to use her like that? I mean it was obvious she's his safe choice to stay but FB making him such an asshole? Why he didn't tell her "I can bring you but that'll be friendship couple cuz I only want MC"? For someone who's talking"i care about you, MC" he's definitely makes her life much more complicated!

Gabi. I tried to be civil, all right? Why she suddenly thinks she has to show how important she was for Suresh? He's literally told you "it wasn't anything serious for me" and your answer "I think it's a lie"?? Piss off, woman! You've been a rebound, a replacement of a real girlfriend. And your wants won't change the reality.

Alfie. Dude, why are you still trying talk to MC when she made it clear that you are friends, nothing more?? My MC even told you to couple up with Meera and was ready to go home. And now you bringing Meera back and all she's doing - making a show "we're such a power couple" and glaring at MC even though my MC has been telling "you are great together!" Arlo #2 much?? And now I read that she wants to dump MC?? Not cool. MC isn't to blame if you not confident enough in your couple, stop being a bitch!

My poor MC doesn't have any girlfriends on this circus! Please Lulu, you are the last hope for a true friendship!

Finn. Weeell. You giving me Noah vibes with your uncertainty. I have a feeling he fancies MC more then Kat but Kat is an easy option, you know? it's like under all his flirting and bravado he's not confident enough in himself to be with someone so gorgeous and cool like MC. I mean - dude literally said "you are out of my league" to MC...🤔 But maybe it's wishful thinking 😃

And Nicolas... OMG, he's just male version of Kat! I knew there was something about him and playing the game but damn! My girl had enough drama in her life and doesn't need more. I don't fancy men who loves stirring the pot... Now I have even more doubts about him. I don't see him in solid couple with a girl if she's serious and not in all this drama/playing games. But he's definitely a good option make Suresh jealous 😆

Welp... At this point I don't even mind taking money and never seeing those people again 😆 but we'll see new islanders. Maybe FB will give us a dependable guy (maybe an old friend of MC who's always been in love with her and hated Suresh for hurting his favourite girl??)

First - YES!! This made NO SENSE the text said single islanders would be DUMPED and then wait NOT U MC! ur special! No we're not! U literally drag us through the mug every fucking episode

Second- babe thats not suresh...idk who that is but its not him. because the man that said all that stuff to us before he left for casa wouldnt be choosing grandma Lulu who he literally has no spark with over us.

Third - Gabi doesnt seem to understand that one sided relationships exist. One person can like another person more than the other. Sorry babe but this happens more often than not...just because he was around doesnt mean he was around.

Fourth - I personally didnt get the vibe that he was trying it on MC I got more friend vibes from him, but maybe that's how I played it. Meera was being such a bitch that I can't wait for me to not go home next week, but to rub it in her face that her bestie is tho

Fifth - I low-key loved Noah 2.0 and If I find out something shady happened between Gabi/Suresh on that terrace rooftop im jumping ship to Finn so fucking fast.

sixth - idk im getting the ick from Nicolas 🫣 hes too much with the gossip and drama he seems more into that than MC. and saying he needed to fake their connection 🙄 thats a no for me dog.

im staying on the suresh route until it becomes even more obvious that there is none left and then will be jumping ship to Finn.

#litg ask #litg rant

[homesickhalfling]

Barry S3 E2 - my thoughts as the episode aired. What do they call that? Live blogging? Whatever I'll put it under a cut to spare you

- wow he's so hot just leaning there fuck

- title card cut always makes me laugh

- THE COOLEST GIRL IN THE WORLD ♡ Elsie Fisher!

- "people don't argue in perfectly scripted arguments"

- the music changes when he enters the room. There's like a dull hum when he's there

- A PURPOSE

- oh my god the editing is great in this show. The slow pull and one sided perspective of this conversation.

- Pacing. Cinematography. Writing. Timing. THIS IS HOW YOU MAKE A SHOW

- the head hitting again!

- yelling 😳😨 but 🥵😏

- Bill is such a FUCKING GREAT ACTOR

- the hypocrisy of her lie grows. She is writing about standing up to her abuser and getting out from under it (which was a lie) but now its clear to everyone that she never really did get out from under it because she's still being abused

- those poor girls are traumatized

- the door unlocking thing, so funny! How smart the way he sneaks in these organically funny moments into such serious ones

- Barry yelling at Cousineau in the trunk so plainly in front of the security guard that can clearly see there's no one else in the car so he is either (1) crazy and yelling to himself or (2) there's someone in the fuckin trunk???

- skinny papa moment- I've definitely had this moment in real life lmao

- the mug hehe such a tough crime boss drinking out of this silly mug

- you actually can report that to HR! You should! Domestic abuse partners showing up at work has killed many people (like that nurse a few years back) it still falls under workplace violence and harassment

- "You're a bad actor Mr cousineau" LOL

- "literally the worst date ever. I'm not exaggerating this time.. No look, he ordered MILK with dinner!" Fucking KILLED ME

- Africa by Toto again

- aww farmers market and sangria so gay

- Luke and Lorelai!!

- OMG CAITLYN RILEY HEY GIRRRRL!! I AM SO PROUD OF YOU Holy shit

- D'Arcy Carden is so freaking cute 😍

- Barry flipping the script and using Cousineau's speech in his audition... wow

- "everyone deserves a second chance" 💔

- there's a lighthouse on Hanks hand (OFMD brain kicks in)

- "wait are you breaking up with me?" Nnooooo! Hes saying I love you!! Hes saying I love you too much to bear the thought of your death and I need you to live, which is why I have to leave. Amaaaazing heartwrenching writing.

- the extended sound effects as he leaves omg omg so good, way to make me laugh when I'm down

- more Metallica

- the plot exposition in this show is so *chefs kiss* my favourite thing about Barry is it never underestimates the audience. (Its so fucking meta and self aware) the show presents itself to a smart viewer who can glean the story development through the details in set dressing, blocking, lighting, sound, cinematography. It all works to tell the story so perfectly and doesn't try to hammer in the dumb shit we can know just from visual queues with bogged down or overdone dialogue.

- this phone call where she's apologizing after he yelled at her (1) and he's just acting like nothing even happened (2) is a very real (and again wildly self aware and meta) depiction of what an abusive and unhealthy relationship is like! She's stuck doing everything she can (making him dinner, putting on his fav music, buying him a new controller, saying she wants to hear that he's happy) just to placate this damaged man to try and keep his wrath away. This poor girl is just like me... can't keep herself away from damaged men.

-also the writing of her character to always think of herself first in every single scenario is just very organic and consistent and you'd barely notice it if she wasn't so goddam annoying

- Wilhelm scream!!!! YES BILL

- "I don't understandwhy you're leaving me" "you have too many dogs." With the visual gag of all the dogs chasing Cousineau in the background 🤣 (counted over 20 btw)

- "little girl" dude she's literally a grown ass adult

- crazy homeless man

- does he think he's dead? Omg the dog

- OMG BARRY'S THERE "we both committed a little too hard " omg omg so good omg scary 😭 scary smart and hot 🥵👌

- the seat pat!! I am delighted every second of this show

- "can you say it?" 😫 he is so broken omg that is terrifying

- *IMMEDIATELY RESTARTS EPISODE*

- "I swear on Janice's soul not to say a word to anyone".. and then he does!?!? to literally the first person he sees!!! Did she mean nothing to you? Wow

[schiz0preniczz]

Pity.

Norman osborn x fem!reader pt.2

Pt.1

Warning: Angst.

A/n: honestly, I don't like fluff.

(–)

Its been days after what had happened. Yet the following days still hadn't changed, unfortunate shit kept happening.

you decided to get up from bed and prepare yourself for work, you were dozing off your desk until you heard someone snapping their finger

"I-I'm not sleeping!" you blurted out, you then looked up to see it was a friend of yours,

"girl you alright? I can take your shift right now if you'd like to" she looked at you concerned

"haha no it's alright! My coffee can keep me awake for a couple more hours.." you then grabbed your mug and.. Realise its empty. You were gripping the handle. and wanted to throw it at the window. Hell, you wanted to throw it at Norman for leaving you like that even after you explained what had happened. You groaned irritatingly while your friend stares at you

"yea you should head home, I got your back, alright?"

She said and pulled you up your chair and headed back to to the entrance while putting your coat on.

"get yourself refreshed, you look ridiculously horrible girl!" you both giggle as she nudges your arm playfully

"alright.. Thanks" you smiled and hugged her, and ofc she hugged back

...

You went to your car only to realise, someone took one of your tires off and spray painted your car with

'No Tire?! :)'  

"WOW." you huffed out of frustration and kicked your car aggressively, it started the alarm, but you didn't care, even with the other people staring. After that you got it towed.

You called up one of Norman's driver to take you home, yet he was currently driving one of the maids to get food supplies etc..

You took the taxi instead, the driver was new and had drove you around wrongly, and when you finally got to your destination you tried so hard not to give the driver a 'fuck you' and give him the finger.

After driving home and opening door, you were greeted by the maids. You forced a smile at them while one spoke

"ma'am, you haven't ate this morning, anything you'd wanna get?" one of them spoke

"no, I'm good." you looked down and hung your coat and placing your bags down and started walking upstairs and taking a brief shower.

It was a bad habit, whenever you get irrerated you couldn't hold your thoughts together, the feeling of dryness of your fingers while on the shower was not your favourite feeling either. After getting off the shower and refreshing yourself up and put on comfy attire,

the feeling of irritation and anxiety started crawling back in, you wanted to stab someone or literally do anything physical, Then you snapped "Gah! This is so fucking annoying!" you fisted your hair and banged your head on the window glass, it cracked. It was loud. Even when you were all alone at the room, you looked at the ticking clock and shoved it down making a loud crash, "CAN'T I JUST HAVE SOME FUCKING PEACE?!" You then grabbed the tea cups and threw it on the floor and started kicking everything around the room. "WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THESE BULLSHIT?!" It didn't take long for the maids to knock on the door.

"m-ma'am?! Is everything alright?!" the maid knocked and yelled from the other side of the door.

"NO IT'S FUCKING NOT!" you sat down on your desk with a mirror in front while panting, you looked at yourself, you did look horrible even after taking a shower and freshing up, you hated that and covered your face with your hands from the sudden burden you felt as tears began to roll down, and the feeling of your brain slowly getting fried by how your blood boils.

For a split second, You felt the need to physically harm someone..

rough days can make you insane from all of that pressure. Clenching your fist and breaking the mirror in front of you, shards got your knuckles making it bleed.

As the maid heard, she didn't hesitate to barge in the room and rushed by your side with a first aid in hand, she didn't say a word as you just held your hand out for her as she started wrapping gauze on your arm.

The other maids were cleaning the mess you made.

But they didn't say a word thankfully.. 'What a pity.' they thought.

...

Norman got home a couple hours later after hearing what had happened. "dear, are you alright? Why would you wreck those stuff?" he questioned while taking his suit off leaving him in long sleeve blouse while walking towards you.

To be honest, it was great wrecking those stuff. It made you feel alright.

"oh I don't know.. Maybe the pressure and stress." you said in a blank tone.

"is this because I didn't give you morning cuddles or something, cause that'd be ridiculous." he said crossing his arms.

You bit your tongue again, trying not to burst the burden out of you. You exhaled, then spoke "maybe if you weren't selfish and actually care this wouldn't happen."

"well maybe next time get a hold of yourself, it's not a nice picture for my company." he said while combing his hair with his hands.

You wanna smash his head on the table. "ya know what's a 'Not a nice picture' huh?? Me. RIGHT?! So does being with me means DESTROYING YOUR REPUTATION HUH?? YEA IS THAT IT?!" you yelled and stood up from the chair aggressively making it crash to the ground. Norman tilted his head slightly and winced.

"Instead of YOU comforting me, you literally just left me here alone and miserable! You didn't even realised my favourite necklace that I wear all the time is missing! Hell, IT GOT STOLEN. MY CAR GOT TOWED AND SPRAYED ON. I LITERALLY GOT STARED AT BY THE CREEP AT WORK. AND WHAT DID YOU DO??" you let out a huff of irritation while turning around and threw the cosmetics/items on your desk around the floor and slammed your hands on the desk aggressively, instead of crying you clenched your jaw and tried not to cuss at Norman.

"well why didn't you tell me?!" he yelled back.

"why didn't I.......- WHY DIDN'T I TELL YOU?? UGH YOU'RE SO..!! GAH!" You rolled your eyes at his statement and kept smashing his beloved ornaments down. It made you feel alive yet so numb and angry.

Norman's eyes widened a little and held his hands up slightly, wincing at the shattering noise. He closed his eyes and exhaled trying to figure out how to calm you down.

After you'd had calmed down a little and placed your fingertips at your forehead He walked towards and hugged you from behind while laying his head on your shoulder.

"I forgot how violent you can be when you're mad.. I'm sorry." He then kissed your cheek and pulled you closer.

You didn't say a word, You were still fuming. Yet his warmth and cologne kept you sanity.

"i.. Just had a rough day too, alright..? Take it easy on the ornaments next time." he spoke with a slight tone

"If it bothers you THAT much just don't go to work and stay." you spoke with a tone and looked down,

"maybe I will." he replied, it caught you off guard since he'll usually pick his work first before anything.

"..really?" you asked while looking up slowly, as he was about to reply someone was calling for norman downstairs

"Daad?? I invited some friends over alright? Also can I have pizza?? Well is there any at the fridge??" the yelling was from downstairs, and of course it was Harry, your soon to be Step-son.

Norman pulled away from you and took his suit from the fallen chair, "Harry if you meant that as a party then cancel your meet up." he yelled back with a tone

"what?! No! It's only Peter and mj, like a study group!" Harry yelled back

"alright then, have fun." he yelled back at his son approvingly while leaving the room,

You, again, were left in the room numb, not really knowing if Norman was actually staying home with you next time or just to calm you down, maybe he's lying. Or tricking you.. you were snapped back from reality after realising a maid has bumped into you while they clean the room.

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