#shut up simi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

Talk. || baby daddy!Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 2.2K~ Pairing: dad!gaz x mother!reader CW: canon-typical violence, events of MW2019 (references), CHILD DEATH (mentioned), pregnancy, underage!! pregnancy, some cultural/religious judgements regarding underage/out-of-wedlock pregnancy, birth (references). Tags: you/your pronouns, (reader implied female because 'mum', 'mama' and other nicknames are used + mentions of pregnant!user), hurt/comfort, fluff?, military inaccuracies I'm sure. Summary: Gaz and the reader are co-parents of a 10-year-old girl (the result of a teen pregnancy). Gaz calls home to talk to his family and he's having a bit of a breakdown after a mission. a/n: This happens in the MW2019 game timeline, somewhere after the Butcher's interrogation. NOT PROOFREAD, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN.

“SIMISOLA RUBY GARRICK, I WILL NOT CALL YOU AGAIN, GET DOWN HERE!” You shout at the top of your lungs, your voice reverberating all the way to the upper floor of your small townhouse.

“IN A MINUTE!” The girl’s voice calls out from upstairs for the… umpteenth time in the last 10 minutes.

“I swear, Kyle, this girl will be the death of me one of these days.” You tell him. “I’m not well-equipped to deal with a teenager.” You grumble as you look at Kyle’s face on the phone screen.

“She’s not a teen yet, lovie.” He retorts with a little smile. “She’s only 10.” He reminds you.

“She’s teenager enough for my taste. Bloody ignoring me whenever I call her!” You reply with a bit of a huff.

“She’s gettin’ older.” He says simply. “You tellin’ me you obeyed your mum every day at her age?” He asks.

“No, but…” You trail off and sigh, dejectedly. “I hate when you make sense, you know that?” You retort, glaring right at him with your best attempt at the ‘mum stare’, but it’s not as effective through the phone.

“Sorry, mama. One of us has to.” She adds with a mischievous smirk on his full lips. He knows how much you like it when he calls you that.

“Shut it, Garrick, I don’t want to hear it.” You retort and you can hear, and see, him giggling on the other side.

From the way the area around him has gotten progressively darker as you spoke for the last 30 minutes, you can tell he’s somewhere out East, somewhere where the sun is starting to set, since in Birmingham it’s only 3 P.M. and still fully bright outside.

“How’s the OP goin’?” You ask despite knowing that he’s not allowed to say anything about it so he simply shoots you a look before raising his fingers to bring a cigarette to his lips, taking a good long drag.

“It’s goin’ fine enough.” He adds and shrugs, before looking off to the distance just off-camera. He’s… lying. You can tell from the way his eyes furrow and his scarred cheek scrunches in frustration.

Turning your head back up, you aim your eyes at the stairs. “BLOODY FUCKIN’ HELL, SIMI, DAD’S ON THE PHONE FOR YOU!” You announce to what, at this point, has to be the ghosts that kidnapped your daughter because she refuses to come downstairs.

Your ears pick up on the sound of her bedroom door flying open and her feet taking her through the carpeted hall and down the steps.

You watch her coming through the vintage, little pass-through window in your kitchen. “Did’ya say dad?!” The dark-skinned girl says as she comes sliding around the corner and into the room.

“Oh, THAT lights a fire under your arse, innit? But not all those other times I told you to come down? What if I was dying, huh?” You scold her and she immediately smiles the same impish smile your baby daddy is sporting on the phone screen. He loves seeing you be maternal.

“Sorry, Mamsie.” She says while showing absolutely no regret at all in her young features. Shaking your head, you pass the phone over to Simi, whose face lights up at the sight of Kyle. “Dad!”

“Oi, kiddo!” You hear Kyle say through the phone as Simisola takes the phone with her down to the sitting room and parks herself on the sofa, talking about all sorts of things with her dad.

You watch her for a moment through the pass-through window. She’s bouncing excitedly, talking about school, her mates, her grades… It’s not often she gets to talk to Gaz, less even that she gets to see him.

Sometimes you wonder if the unpredictability of his job is going to mess her up one day. I mean, her chances of that are already high enough considering the two of you are merely 28 and have been raising her since you were still kids yourselves… But the fact he’s more gone than around in her day-to-day life is bound to mess her up too…

Maybe you should get her into some therapy, just in case.

But then again, she seems surprisingly unaffected by all of this. She’s healthy, smart, sweet… a bit of a smartass (she takes after her dad in that)... And above all else, she seems... happy.

All things considered, of all the blokes that could’ve gotten you knocked up at seventeen, Kyle Garrick was the best option… And your daughter was the best outcome possible.

Sure, you weren’t official or anything back then (nor are you now, really... though you share a bed and a home and you kiss and-), the pregnancy had been an unforeseen consequence of a tryst in the back of a car after drinking at the local pub… But looking back, you got lucky.

Either way, you were both too young, too eager, too needy, too… stupid. Neither of you thought of condoms, hoping the ‘trusty’ pull-out method would suffice.

It didn’t.

You still remember the way you had a panic attack in a toilet stall at school, you and a girlfriend skipping class to pop over to Tesco and buy a box of pregnancy tests… She took one with you, just to ease your worries… And then yours came out positive.

The fear and absolute dread you felt was paralyzing, the way you stayed holed up in the loo while your friend tried to console you and used her fuschia Motorola Razr to text your other friends to come to the toilets after class.

From there, your girlfriends texted his mates, and by the time you noticed, Kyle was elbowing his way into the bathroom, past the group of waiting students, all of them mutual friends of you both. He spotted you sitting on the dirty tile floor in the corner, eyes glued on the pregnancy test in your hand. You were ugly crying, snot all over, and hyperventilating.

Even back then, Kyle was already years ahead of any other teen you knew. He was mature and calm, collected… He sat beside you, rubbed your back, and told you it’d all be okay. You know deep down that he only held it together to calm you down but once he was alone he probably cried like a baby too.

His parents are Nigerian immigrants. In their minds, there was an order of doing things and their only son getting a girl pregnant before marriage (or before hitting maturity, really) was NOT it.

And your parents, well… They weren’t very happy about it either. Not that any parent ever is when their daughter comes home and drops the bomb that she’s expecting.

That was a bad moment for your lives… You both lived with your parents and you had to go back and forth between school and baby appointments… Kyle was by your side the whole time (or as much as he could, considering he had enlisted as soon as he hit 18) and both your parents tried their best to be supportive… But you never quite earned Mr. and Mrs. Garrick’s affection. Not even now, 10 years later.

At first, they didn’t even want to believe the baby was Kyle’s. Your father ended up having some very heated choice words with Mr. Garrick, defending your honor, and almost bringing the house down screaming that you weren’t a slag.

You were on edge and depressed back then. Once the news spread, most of your friends stopped hanging out with you out of pressure put on by their own parents… They still smiled at you and showed encouragement to you whenever you saw each other… But they didn’t come over anymore, barely spoke to you in the halls…

People stared in the streets… Whenever you went into a baby shop or the diaper aisle at the supermarket… You were stared at. The whispers of “Look at her, such a slag”, “So young and already up the duff…” never came, at least not that you heard them, but you found yourself clutching your mum’s arm particularly hard whenever she managed to drag you out of the flat and to the shops.

You don’t like looking back on the pictures of that year in sixth form. As much as you love your child, seeing the way your face became hollow and sad, your eyes weighed down by dark circles as your belly grew consistently until nothing you wore fit you right… It still stung.

You wonder how you managed to retain enough mental faculties to not earn yourself a post-partum depression diagnosis. Whatever your brain did, it did it well...

With her skin all wrinkly and red and screaming at the top of her lungs, her little fists shaking, eyes all glossy, and a little clump of dark hair on her head slicked back by the amniotic fluid… You fell in love with Simi the moment the nurses set her against your bare chest.

And Kyle did too. You could see it in the way his eyes softened, his lip trembled and his nose and chin scrunched up to contain a wail. As soon as he held her in his arms for the first time, so small against his chest, her little body wrapped in a blanket against his fatigues... you started openly weeping at the sight, blaming the hormones, but the fact of the matter was that she was so small, so tender, so… perfect.

You tune out most of your daughter’s conversation with her father as you go about preparing dinner for the two of you, moving about the kitchen, lost in your own thoughts.

Your ears perk up when you hear Kyle ask Simi if she can pass the phone back to you and let the two of you have a conversation. The girl complains a bit about how much she misses him but ends up acquiescing to him. Daddy’s girl, she is.

She rushes over, her mini twists bouncing with each step as she drops the phone onto your hand and then waves an exaggerated “See you soon, dad!”. You watch her bounce away and trot back up the stairs before you look down at the phone.

Putting on your earpods, you set the phone down on the counter, propped up by the flour container so you can still be in frame as you go about breading some thin chicken cutlets.

“What is it, Kyle?” You ask him softly and raise your brows at him. His face is a lot more grim and he lights a second cigarette.

“We lost a kid.” He replies softly. “A little boy in Urzikstan.” He adds and sighs loudly. Your whole face twists lightly into sadness. “Some… fuckin’ plonker of a terrorist…” He trails off.

“Did you kill him?” You ask him and he nods his head solemnly. You’ve learned long ago not to give your input too much on these topics… He’s chosen to keep you and your daughter away from it all…

He once mentioned that asking to be let in would be like 'dipping your pinkie toe in a pond, never knowing if something would be reaching up to pull you in'. You swore he got that quote from a John Wick movie, and then you both laughed… But you knew he meant the sentiment of it.

“I had to stoop down to his level first.” He tells you as he takes another drag os his new cigarette. “Threatened his wife… his son… to get him to talk.” He trails off and sucks in a sharp breath.

Even with the progressive darkness that has set in now, wherever he is, you can still spot the way his nose scrunches as he tries to hold in his crying… His voice is still steady, but his eyes… Always so expressive… You’ve learned to read them in 10 years of co-parenting.

“Every time that bloody barrel even went slightly near that kid’s face I-” Kyle trembles out a breath and rolls his shoulders. Then, he goes quite.

“Anyways…” He says, trying to deflect his feelings away from the things he’s had to do. “I… I miss Simi… And I miss you.” He adds.

“We miss you too, Kyle.” You reply, trying your best to be positive for him. He needs it. “She can’t stop talking about you, counting down the days ‘till you walk through that door and come wrap her in one of those alledgedly ‘annoying’ bear hugs of yours.” You quip and a genuine smirk forms on his lips.

He nods and you notice him through away his cigarette and move somewhere else. As he walks you notice the space is brighter, the camera is facing upwards, and you can see the ceiling and ceiling lights… But above all else, you see his handsome face, the light wisp of a mustache and a goatee, the scar on his left cheek, his tired eyes, and disheveled hair.

He crosses a threshold into another darkened space, but this one is much quieter. You hear some shuffling sounds and even though now you really can’t see shit, you know he’s there, staring at you… And you know he’s lying down.

“Lovie… Can I ask you a favour?” He says as he sighs deeply and slowly.

“Yeah, what is it?” You end up saying as you set aside the breaded cutlets and wash your hands.

“Tell me everything I’m missing. Tell me everything that Simisola did and said… Tell me about your day… about work… share all the gossip you’ve got…” He requests.

“Just… Just talk my bloody ear off.” He pleads. “I just need to hear your voice.” He adds, his tone a lot more gentler. “Please…”.

#ikea writes 💚#kyle gaz garrick #gaz deserves respect #baby daddy!gaz #father!gaz #fatherhood #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #teenage pregnancy

204 notes · View notes

lilbittystar · 14 days

Text

A Late Night confession..

Teenage Quack’s x reader story

Like any other late summer night you usually get on a discord call and talk to your best friend Alex. Goofing off playing fortnight or Minecraft you guys laugh loudly enough that it makes your both of your parents come in your into your room late at night to tell you guys to keep it down or shut it off.

But this this night he wanted to face time, because he wanted to show you something really cool he wanted show you his Lego set that he recently completed.

“Wait hold up give me a second before I show you let me simi dry my hair first… see it’s too wet he shows a strand of his hair dangling a piece in front of the camera” smiling (the guy had recently taken a shower) he took a second to he ruffles his wet jet black hair with a towel and later shook it like a wet dog. You giggled a little

“Okey okey okey” he grabs his phone and sets you down on his desk. he goes a little far from his phone but still in plain sight and he does a little dance dance(insert his iconic fortnight dance that he always does) he grabs his Lego set and hides it behind his back okey drumroll pleasee y/n

You *started to drum rolling*

He comes back to the screen you face to face and says tada he takes out this Big Lego truck and shows it off “DUDE IT TOOK ME LIKE 7hr of my life to build this bro, istg hardest 7 hours of my life. “ as he shakes his head while smiling admiring his Lego creation.

“Woah dude yeah said in shock, Yeah Alex I dunno how you do it” you smile admire his dedication to his Lego set “see I really don’t have the patience for that”You said. He plops into his gaming chair you guys talk another 2 hours on face time when you realize it’s 12 Am and you have forgotten to do you skincare routine“dude I need to wash my face. “ you looked at him and said “you’re coming along on this adventure to the bathroom” you giggled walking to the bathroom “anyways you can keep talking whatever you were saying before” He keeps yapping

You set down your phone where he can still see your face. You start washing your face and you finish after 5 mins and you realize Alex stopped talking.

Alex? You said as You look at your self in the mirror and down to your phone where you see the boy just admiring you. Bro had a little twinkle in his eye You guys lock eyes and he straight up tells you “y/n you know that your very pretty, you know that right? “He looks you down and up with his eyes. And leans back on his gaming chair, with a little smirk.

You were caught of guard by that comment

Huh? Alex.. you start to blush a little

“You heard me don’t act like you didn’t hear me” he says He lifted his eyebrow looking at you his dark brown eyes, speaking for him on how he felt.

Are you trying to flirt with me? You said

Perhaps, You see a little coloration of pink started to form on his cheeks as He smiles

You stared at him blushing and your heart racing.

Look Y/n … he sighs his voice goes a little deeper the usual

“I really like you. And I really can’t be pretending any more that I don’t like you romantically when in reality i do. And I don’t wanna act like I don’t think about you at night, or the fact that all I think about is you. Like all the time… i mean who wouldn’t think about you you’re amazing and beautiful and I really enjoy your company. ln all honestly, i really want to be more then just best friends”. He looks at you while smiling and blushing.

“Look I gotta go, But think on what I said and I’ll talk to you tmr, Alright?.”

*He hangs up*

You were too stunned to speak.

#quackity x y/n #quackity x you #alex quackity #flirting #god help me #woah #qsmp x reader

22 notes · View notes

bbglewis · 2 months

Note

bestie thoughts on all seb ships (rank them please 🥺🥺🥺)

OKAY THEN

1. Sewis- without question. it's the soulmatism. the parallels. the unabashed love for one another. its the LORE. it's the "one single thread of gold tied me to you"

2. Martian- the PLOT. the dynamics. the angst. the reconciliation. i will never shut up

3. Sebson- maybe an unpopular opinion but GODDAMN IT they were fucking okay. it's the feral behaviour of the early 2010s. the flirting. it's SOLAR FLARE

4. Sebchal - okay catholic(Ferrari) guilt. it's the themes. the potential. the star crossed lovers of it all for me.

5. Sebmarkson- Yeah. That's it.

6. Sebcedes- bc it's fucking funny

to me the rest are just... there

• Simi- see I get it but it's so meh

•Sebdan- better platonic

•Smick- REALLY REALLY depends on the way it's written, otherwise it's better platonic/familial

•Vettonso- it's batshit crazy 😭😭

•Seb/Michael - again, it REALLY DEPENDS on how it's done or it's WEIRD

#anons #blake.answersasks #Sebastian Vettel #sewis #sebchal #martian #sebcedes #sebmarkson #sebmark #sebson #vettonso #simi #smick #sebdan #fic-talk.tag

32 notes · View notes

blorbocedes · 11 months

Note

Kimi Räikkönen/Sebastian Vettel for the ask game

i love simi. sebastian was dickmatized levels horny for him and now they're neighbours in Switzerland. crazy. something about a guy incapable of shutting up vs a guy who is ICE COLD gruff and is kind of fond of you...... 😈 seriously seb wanted him so bad it made him stupid... when he tugged his finger on podium??? for what??? i think there's also the Michael angle, that Kimi was kind of positioned to be the guy who could take down Ferrari michael and if it hadn't been for one DNF he would've. you want the guy who could've almost slain your hero etc

that one awards show where Kimi is extremely drunk and is leaning over Seb, practically falling down, and Seb has the stache? Seb took him home and gave him sloppy toppy real and true and happened

i once called them liberal gf with right wing bf and I stand by it

#brutally honest ship opinions #blorbocedes ask #ask game

50 notes · View notes

lesharl-eclair · 8 months

Text

i ah.. i wrote some simi poetry ? maybe

annotated version under the cut because i talk too much

ahahhaa. hope you enjoy this feeble attempt at rpf. i'll shut up now. :)

#f1 #formula 1 #sebastian vettel #kimi räikkonën #simi #claire writes

21 notes · View notes

simpfr · 1 year

Text

Mushroom inspection

Tighnari x reader

Idfk what I'm doing 😱

wasn't proofread so there might be a few mistakes! Along with bad grammar..

Tighnari might also seem a little out of character but I feel like it would be accurate in this scenario....

Fluff

Might be a lil suggestive??

Gender neutral!

A soft yet harsh wind caressed his face beneath the pale tint of orange sky as he stuggled to conceal the wagging of his tail while briefly explaining the new information he recently found out about the mushrooms and fungi's to you

He did it ever so often yet each time he's more and more thrilled to rant about a new or an already discovered plant , maybe it's because you actually found interest in his words?

"Brown cap and white body..." his ears twitched pausing at the sound of you actually speaking, "huh?"

"A white body and a brown cap?" you repeated, "that's how you described the mushroom, yes?" he blinked before slowly nodding

You pointed towards the plant that was similar to your description said before, "is that it?" the fox hummed before moving towards the mushroom like plant to get a closer inspection

"No but look at this!" he took hold of the plant pointing out the difference between it's features and a sweetwater mushroom, "A sweetwater mushroom has only four designs either a swirl coming from the bottom or the tip of the cap, a plain brown cap or a brown cap with dots"

"Not to mention it's bitter and has a distinctive smell! But this is the completey opposite! It's designs is all over the place but it's sweet and has a scent that's oddly simi—" before he could finish his sentence his body completely froze before he fell his movements animatronic

You would've went to his side to see what was wrong but not a second later he sat up his ears down with his tail floofed up

"Do you have the notebook? I think I just found a new specimen"

Bonus because

"How long was i out for?"

"About 2 seconds"

"Really?... Felt like i was out for hours..."

"Aww are you embarresed?"

"What??? No it was just the memory of the dream is all.."

"Oh, really?"

"Ok shut up"

"I didn't even say anything"

"I said shut it"

#Spotify #tighnari #x reader #tighnari x reader #fluff #scenarios #romance #reading #reader insert #tighnari x y/n #wattpad #tighnari x you #forest ranger #tighnari smut

94 notes · View notes

yourlocalwhorelolzies · 1 year

Text

Careless supernova (Jesper angst)

WC-1664 warnings (angst, arguments ig)

‘When my time comes around’

‘Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth’

Jesper didn’t know when the novice demo man became his whole universe; His moon, his stars, his nebula. All in one small auburn haired boy. He didn’t know when the universe walked into his life. He didn’t know when things stopped seeming so daunting as long as smaller slender hands were wrapped in his. When small shoulders brushed his and when the smell of chemicals became as home as that farm in the middle of the fields.

No, Jesper didn't know when Wylan became a part of him.

But he certainly knew when he was no longer there.

The wound still stung. It was open for all to see and this wasn't one that could be healed by a night at the tables and a bottle of his favorite alcohol resting in his hand. This wound ran deeper, carving away the very base of his being. This would stung more than any knife would or broken nose.

Wylan had nested in Jespers very heart and took some of it when he flew away.

The Zemeni boy closed his eyes, praying, no begging to the saints above that when his eyes opened he would turn to the side, his eyes would drift across their shared room. He prayed that his eyes would land on the merching, no, HIS merchling. But alas the saints above had no such pity for him.

His eyes opened and he was greeted with the dark red booth where he rested his tired legs. Taking a strong swig from the bottle with an unnamed alcohol within he willed his legs to carry him out of the bustling room. Stumbling Jesper took note of how the cold air nipped at his ears. Winter in Ketterdam was cold and unforgiving and in his haste to get away from that manor he forgot his coat. Just his luck.

“Saints it's cold” The lanky teen murmured to nobody in particular

Making his way down the familiar winding streets and alleyways Jesper’s feet carried him to the slat. Making his way through the familiar building he prayed his room remained the same. Perhaps he could land within the stiff bed and he would wake and none of it will have ever happened. No pretty merchling, no heist, no van eck. None of it. He would wake and everything will be an astonishingly realistic dream.

As he pushed open the worn door he practically deflated in relief, his bed, as ratty and old as ever was still there and everything was just as he had left it. As the door shut behind him he felt the weight of everything come crashing down. Stumbling to the bed he prayed he would fall into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness and he would not have to face reality. Just not quite yet he wasn't ready.

— - - - - - - - -

Jesper wasn't entirely sure what pulled him from his sleep but he was sure that his head was utterly throbbing. Groaning, he rolled over in the small bed that hardly qualified as a cot and buried his face in the flat pillow. Inhaling the zemeni boy had a startling realization that the pillow smelled of him. Arrogantly he had hoped that everything had been a dream. That he could forget the loss of the night before. However, the startling realization that Wylan was everywhere. His whole being and everything encompassing him was here. In this room, it stuck to his skin like soot and gunpowder.

Forcing himself to pull away from the comfort he found he looked around the dingy room.

Suddenly a loud bang resounding from downstairs forced him to his feet quicker than he was prepared for. Shaking the dizziness from his head Jesper grabbed his holsters from his place where he must have discarded them on the table beside his bed, the weight of them resting on his hips gave a sense of security. Jesper took a brief note of the midday sun that lingered in his peripheral vision, he must have slept through the morning.

Daylight ment that Kaz would be in the club somewhere. Itching for something to occupy his hands, Jesper picked up a coin from the dresser. Forcing down the emotion at the thought that he had used a similar coin to craft his merchling a key to this very room down he flipped it through his fingers before setting his way out of the room.

As he made his way down the crooked staircase he paused a familiar voice sounding out through the club he forced himself to the wall.

“You're saying you don't know where he is”' Kaz's voice was gruff as always.

“No i don't, I didn't see him show up last night” The barkeep was defensive.

“Your useless” Kaz is as brutal as always.

Taking a deep breath, Jesper made his way down the final stairs into the main room of the building. His eyes landed on Kaz Brekker, the bastard of the barrel, dirty hands, and Jesper’s bestest of friends.

“Are you looking for me?” he inquired with a raised brow and a playful smirk

“Where were you, Wylan said you disappeared last night” Kaz’s voice was rough and demanding. Jesper forced his face into neutrality before he thought too hard about Wylan.

“What, can’t I enjoy the pleasures the barrel has to offer” Jesper deflected

“Jesper, You haven't been to the barrel to enjoy the pleasures in months”

“Keeping tabs on me are you brekker, its okay, you can admit you care about me” Jesper teased

“You're a valuable asset” Kaz didn't miss a beat. The boy's dark eyes flicked over jesper in an overly critical way. It made jesper uncomfortable, Kaz always seemed to know more about Jesper than he did himself. “Plus I have a job for you”

Jesper perked up at the mention of something to do , he could use the work; it was the only thing other than gambling that kept him active. And blissfully numb.

“What kind of job?” he inquired. His mind was already racing 100 miles an hour.

“A wealthy merchant has been trying to buy out the clubs and pleasure houses. He is bad for business and I have set up a meeting. The meeting is cover, you and Inej will break into his house and steal a few documents from him” Kaz was as unexpressive as ever. Jesper could tell he was leaving details out but he was too giddy with excitement to care.

“Okay, when do we leave”

“You have two hours to prepare yourself, and jesper.” Kaz paused briefly as jesper turned to face him “i need you not distracted, Got it?” Jesper nodded before making his way out of the building, a budding smirk building on his features.

—- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - —-

As jesper made his way to the meeting point where he would see Inej his mind drifted. Landing unfortunately back on the merchling whom he carried heavy in his heart. He knew the words he spoke from the previous night had been unfair and cruel but he couldn't help it. Wylan had been working all week and Jesper selfishly missed him. He hadn't meant to annoy the boy but he supposed he had that unique ability.

Jesper’s eyes lifted from where they rested on the revolvers he had been cleaning. He took in the shorter boy's presence with a small smile. “Welcome home” He greeted. His greeting was met with a non committal humm. His brows furrowing jesper carefully set his precious revolver down on the coffee table as his long legs carried him over to the boy who was turned away from him, organizing his bag. “You okay?” Jesper asked quietly as he touched the smaller boys shoulder. Flinching wylan has dropped the stack of papers he was holding.

“God jesper can you give me two seconds of space ever?” The redhead had snapped suddenly, his eyes flicked angrily over to the zemeni boy as if demanding an answer.

“Sorry i didn't mean to spook you”’ Jesper was quiet, silently he prayed for an apology.

“Of course not, you just can't stand to leave me alone for two seconds. God I can't ever catch a break” Wylans tone was cruel, almost mocking.

“Hey, I get that you had a bad day but that's not my fault I dont deserve for you to take it out on me” Jesper defended himself

“Of course not” Wyalns tone was snarky and sarcastic.

“Your unbelievable” Jesper could feel his rising temper.

“Oh? Im unbelievable, at least I know when to leave you alone, At least i dont need constant reassurance. At least i can go two fucking seconds without being annoying” Wylans voice began to raise.

“Your being unfair. This is not my fault.” Jesper was trying really hard to be understanding of the young merch’s exhaustion but he was getting fed up.

“Yea nothing seems to be your fault” The redhead mumbled

“God you're being so rude right now, this isn't fair. I bend over backwards to give you space, read for you, help you when you need it and you don't see me being an ass about it.” Jespers voice raised as well

“Nobody is forcing you to stay here” Wylan hissed out.

“Your right they aren't” Jesper stated as he turned around. Quickly gathering his things he turned to look back at the merchling. Wylan simply gave him an unamused look with a small shake of his head.

“Go on then, and don't bother coming back”.

And jesper did. He didn't wait to hear anything else as he stormed out of the house and into the streets of The Barrel. Him and Wylan were at odds again. He supposed it was perhaps for the best. A supernova as pretty and bright as it appeared was still a violent explosion.

Jesper failed to realize that he was to his destination before his body collided with a familiar redhead.

“Jesper?”

“Wylan?”

I hope you enjoyed, this was def rushed but I was lining to hoizer so that was cool and this was born, reblogs are appreciated and comments. lmk if you want a part two.

#wesper #six of crows jesper #book canon #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan x jesper #jesper x wylan #kaz brekker #Six of crows #shadow and bone #inej gahfas #angst #I rushed this #I ran out of ideas #pt2?#im a space nerd #supernova

20 notes · View notes

nevermorered · 2 years

Text

Something that’s been floating around in my head forever and I needed to get it out. Not sure if it will ever be expanded, but I sort of love this premise.

Stumbling through the hotel suite (added fees, Mr. Munson. We know how rock bands get.) Eddie nearly tripped over a few passed out bodies on the floor. His eyes were stinging a little from the smoke in the room, the floor feeling uneven under his feet and ears pulsing with the rush of too fast blood and humming with the sounds of voices that weren’t really talking, but he eventually made it to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door with trembling fingers, but that didn’t drown out the heavy bass from the stereo. It was nearing five in the morning, but the party was still raging despite the numerous noise complaints from other guests.

It was always raging.

Bracing his hands on the sink vanity, rings clicking against the marble countertop, Eddie lifted his head and looked at himself in the mirror. Even through the haze of booze and drugs, he could see himself with blinding clarity at the moment and he loathed it. He looked just like his father; gaunt cheeks, drug blown pupils, pale skin, eyes too big for his face. The only thing Eddie had his father never did was long hair.

With a sneer in the mirror, Eddie grabbed the leather toiletries bag from the floor and dug around in it, through the baggies of white powder and grass, through the pipes and the single bills taped up into tubes, until he found the sheers.

If he was going to be the coked-out progeny of Rex Munson, he might as well look exactly like him.

He wasn’t unique or special or different. He was a goddamn stereotype. Drugged out rocker getting high and fucking groupies. Sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, man. Forced conformity at its finest. Jesus, they weren’t even that famous. The highest claim to fame they had was a few simi successful records and opening for Judas Priest last year. He felt like a fraud to every single moral and value he ever held. A goddamn sellout. And the worst thing was, he wasn’t a sellout to anything other than his own fucking hubris.

His hands were shaking worse as he grabbed fistfuls of his matted curls and chopped, hair sticking to his clammy palms and fingers. He was sweating way more than he should in a cold bathroom in the middle of winter, the salty water dripping into his eyes and burning but he kept going. His pulse was pounding so hard his chest was hurting, lungs working overtime to draw in oxygen. Oxygen that didn’t want to come apparently because Eddie couldn’t catch his breath. But still, he hacked away at his hair.

Distantly he was aware he was overdosing. Too much coke, kid. You really fucked the goose this time. It sounded like his uncle, and Eddie dropped the sheers, clutching at his bare chest as his heart continued racing. That voice hadn’t been in his head. He’d heard it like Wayne was standing next to him.

You’re not what I thought you were. A softer voice said from his other side, one that had haunted him for years. Chase your dreams, Eddie. You deserve it. Just remember me when you make it big.

Eddie wondered if it counted that he remembered her as he was dying, not that he didn’t think of her every goddamn day since he left her.

27 years old and overdosing in a bathroom. Jesus, he was a total fucking cliché.

Jeff, the only other original member left of Corroded Coffin, found Eddie on the bathroom floor not long after he passed out. He was unconscious, frothy white liquid leaking from his mouth, blood dripping from his nose, but he had a pulse- faint and fluttering- and was still breathing- shallow and slow.

Eddie doesn’t remember it, but an ambulance was called, and he was rushed to the hospital. On the verge of a heart attack and having had an actual seizure, he was given benzos and beta blockers and fluids to bring his blood pressure down and packed with cold compresses to bring his body temp down. Then it was just monitoring him, making sure he didn’t keel over before the drugs left his system. He was given a private room because his manager (who never showed up) was loud and charming and persuasive to the point of manipulation and that’s the next thing Eddie remembered. Waking up there, IV attached to his hand and monitors stuck to his chest. His head felt like it was about to split open, his stomach churned hotly, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton.

“Damn, boy.” A gruff voice came from his left and Eddie cracked open an eye to see his uncle standing there. He looked tired, more tired than normal, deep lines around his eyes that were bloodshot like he hadn’t slept all night. Probably hadn’t. Too worried about him and the four-hour drive from Hawkins to where he’d been playing in Chicago. God, he was such a fuckup.

“You scared the hell out of me, Ed.” Wayne reached down and squeezed Eddie’s shoulder and Eddie didn’t even try to stop the tears that started pouring down his temples.

“I’m sorry, Wayne.” His voice rasped past a dry throat. “Fuck, I’m so stupid. A goddamn fuckup, just like my old man.”

“The hell you are, son.” Wayne’s hand left his shoulder and took hold of his chin to force Eddie to look at him. “Listen here, my brother is nothing. Always was and always will be. You are not a goddamn thing like him, and I made sure of that. Didn’t I, Ed? Didn’t I raise you better than that?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded, looking up at his uncle. “You did.”

Wayne’s chin trembled, but he firmed it.

“Good. You remember that from now on, you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

Wayne gave a firm nod. “Look, Jeff and I, we talked to that manager of yours. You’re taking a break of undetermined length. Got a facility set up ready to take you next week. It’s a thirty day stay.”

“Thank God. I don’t want to keep being like this, Wayne. I don’t…I don’t wanna die, man. But I don’t think I can afford rehab.” He didn’t need to tell his uncle why he didn’t have money. It was more than evident that Eddie spent his earnings on drugs and booze. Hell, after that one big payout where he bought Wayne a lake house in Hawkins, he hadn’t bought anything remotely worthwhile.

“I know, son, I know. We’ve got you help. Jeff and the guys are gonna pitch in. So are a few of your other friends.”

“What other friends?” Eddie asked with a sarcastic laugh that Wayne met with a hard stare.

“Dustin and Steve and Robin. Jonathan. Even that Wheeler girl and her weird little brother.”

“How’d they know?” he asked, looking down at his oddly naked fingers. He wondered where his rings had gone.

“Jeff and I called. You have friends, Eddie. People that care. We got the rehab place set up and when you get out, you’re coming home and staying with me. Now, I can help you, but you need more than what I can give you, kid. Margaret, she’s got you a therapist lined up at the hospital she works at. You’ll start there. I think there might be someone else there at the hospital that might do you some good once you get home.”

Margaret was Wayne’s…well girlfriend seemed a silly thing to call someone her age. His partner. Sure. They’d been together for a few years, but neither wanted marriage and they didn’t live together, both too set in their ways of living alone. It worked for them, and Margaret was the sweetest woman. Always sent Eddie birthday cards and made sure Wayne was eating good after his heart attack a few years back. She was a nurse, with a bedside manner of an angel until you crossed her and then she was more than a little scary.

The other person, Eddie knew. Chrissy. It always came back to Chrissy in his life. She’d pushed him away back after graduation. Told him to get the hell out of Hawkins and make something of himself. To leave her behind. And he wasn’t going to, didn’t want to, but she pushed and pushed and eventually broke his goddamn heart. It hurt and he was mean and a little ugly and they hadn’t talked since he left. Dustin kept him informed even when he didn’t ask. Told him once her brother graduated, she’d moved off and went to college to become a nurse (shit, he was proud of her even if it stung) and that a few years later, after mommy dearest divorced her father when he lost his job at the law office for malpractice and both left Hawkins, she moved back and started working at the hospital. Labor and delivery, just like Margaret. Something Wayne reminded him of endlessly.

It pissed him off that he still cared. They’d gone through hell together. Sure, there was Steve, Robin, Nancy, the kids, eventually Jonathan and his brother and El, but there was something different with him and Chrissy. They were a team. He thought it would always be them against the world. For fucks sake, he loved her, and he was pretty goddamn sure she loved him too. Chase your dream, Eddie. She had told him. I can’t be what stands in the way of your dreams. Little did Chrissy know; she was his dream. Everything else, the fame and fortune (ha) ended up being a nightmare.

He should have stayed with her, but she was so worried he would resent her one day and, hell, twenty-year-old Eddie thought maybe he would have too.

Before he could ask anything else of his uncle- like if Chrissy knew what a colossal fuckup he was-, the door to his room opened and Jeff came in with Lynn and Von, the two newer members of Corroded Coffin. Eddie hastily wiped the evidence of his tears away and lost himself in the teasing and ribbing of his friends, particularly over his newly shorn hair. Lynn and Von cared, sure, but Jeff kept giving him worried looks, had been giving him worried looks and pleading for him to slow the fuck down for the last year.

“Gonna get you sorted, Eds,” Jeff said once the other guys filtered out. “Don’t worry about a thing with the band. Take however long you need. We’ll be waiting for you when and if you ever want to come back.”

Eddie nodded. Last year, hell even a month ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of if, but now he wasn’t sure. Music was a passion, would always be in his soul, but this life of being a rockstar, even as small as his fame was, wasn’t exactly what he’d pictured. It was so much about pleasing the masses and making money and sales and less about the actual music. So goddamn much forced conformity disguised as freedom. He didn’t know if that’s what he wanted anymore.

Besides, right now he needed to focus on getting clean, on dealing with these demons that were eating at him just as those demobats had done so many years ago. Only this time the demons were inside, and while she might not be toting her bootlegged flamethrower made from a lighter and hairspray, he really sort of hoped that maybe Chrissy would be there to help him out this time around, too.

#hellcheer #eddissy #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #tw: drug overdose

62 notes · View notes

the-book-gnome · 2 years

Text

ACOTAR Husband Headcanons

Warnings: Just lots of fluff, some are a little suggestive but overall not to bad, pet names: sweetheart, darling, princess😽

Lucien

My boy Lucien would be the biggest cuddle lover in the world, he would literally trap you underneath his massive body just for a few extra minutes with you.

You're his favorite person in the entire world and he would prove that to you, he would buy you so many presents and he would always have a cute smile on his face when he watched you open them.

He would never let you wear a nightgown, the only thing in bed you get to wear are his shirts or nothing at all there’s no compromise

Every morning you would wake up by being showered in his kisses, he loves every inch of your body and he worships you like the goddess you are

He loves showing you off, he’ll brag to everyone about how lucky he is to have a mate/wife as beautiful and perfect as you. It would get to the point where people would have to tell him to shut up about you

He knows you love being called sweetheart and darling and he’s the type to say it in a sensual way every single time just to tease you

He often brings you breakfast in bed because he doesn't want you to have to do a lot of work ever

Cassian

He is the definition of a blanket hog, if he’s feeling generous he’ll give you a corner of the blanket

He likes to mess with you a lot so he’ll tell you he prepared you a warm bath and then when he drops you in the water it’s ice cold. He won’t help you get out or anything he’ll just be dying of laughter while you yell at him

When you’re reading a book or doing anything besides paying attention to him, he’ll bother you until you give up and talk to him

He will beat the shit out of anyone who takes bad about you or disrespects you without any hesitation (he’s very protective)

At night when he’s sleepy he is super clingy and will bear hug you on his massive bed so you can’t get away from him and half the time he ends up falling asleep on top of you so you can hardly breath

He loves you more than anything, cassian's the type to tell you that repeatedly until you truly believe him and even then he will never stop telling you that

Azriel

He always wakes up before you do, he likes to watch you sleep, you always look so calm and peaceful in your sleep and he doesn't want to do anything that will disrupt you

Whenever he is reading you will lay your head in his lap and curl your body into a ball, he always drapes one of his wings over, it coves you completely and hides you from the rest of the world. He loves knowing that he’s keeping you safe and protected

He often reads to you when you have trouble sleeping or have had a bad day, it puts you asleep very quickly

His shadows love you, every time you walk into the same room as him a few go straight to you and wrap around your body, keeping you safe

Azriel has a tendency to keep you from everyone, he likes having you all to himself

When he has to go away for a few days he leaves some shadows with you just so he knows you're safe, when he gets back he always finds you right away no matter how tired or hungry he is. He’ll scoop you in his arms and sit down somewhere, holding you as tightly as possible

Rhysand

Rhys will always wake up with you if you have a bad dream, he’ll hold you and go inside your head to comfort your mind as well as your body, he won’t go back asleep until he’s sure you’re okay

He always wants to be touching you in anyways he can, even if it’s just his hand on your back

Rhys will pinch or flick you every time you say something snarky to him, but he always leaves a kiss on your forehead

If you’re feeling sick he will not let you off of your bed, if you want a bath then he’ll carry you, if you want something to eat, he will bring it to you, he will will pester you to figure out what’s wrong

Rhys loves watching you bathe, it’s not always in a sexual way he just likes to watch you for some reason

At family dinners he’ll talk to you in your head and make you laugh, you two have very similar humor and if someone says something stupid all he has to do is look at you and you both burst out laughing

Helion

Helion loves to show you off, he’ll buy the most expensive outfits just so he can see you in them, he will talk about you all the time telling everyone how perfect you are( he’s worse then Lucien)

He’s very big on pda, he likes to show people that your his and he’s yours, if anyone says anything about it he’ll prove it to them 😏

He loves sitting out on his balcony with you even if your you two are wearing is a bed sheet, he’ll hold you in his lap and stroke your hair until you fall asleep while he whispers sweet words to you

He loves calling you princess or his love, he knows you like it when he calls you that too so he does it a lot

He has no problem sharing you as long as you and the other person know that you belong to him and no one else, if you ever get overwhelmed from things like that he’ll be there every second calming you down and assuring you

Helion would take you on rides with his Pegasus, as many times as you want because your wish is his command, he’ll do anything to hear you laugh or see you smile

#azriel #rhysand #cassian #lucien vanserra #helion #fluff

71 notes · View notes

rogerzsteven · 1 year

Note

No seriously Simi I am feeling very sappy tonight so imma just reiterate how much I adore you and your writing I legit used to see your works on my dash and go *stary eyes* that's that really cool amazing author who is too cool and amazing for me to ever speak to so I will admire from a distance *swoon* AND THEN YOU DMed ME AND I ALMOST DIED! Anyway I think you're incredible 🩷

Ksössl SHUT UP 😭😭😭😭😭 I swear i'm not that intimidating I really enjoy talking to people and making new friends, i think you're an amazing person too and i enjoy seeing you on my dash so the feeling is mutual 🥺♥️ you're so kind and sweet and ily ily ily

3 notes · View notes

pomfiores · 1 year

Note

“Senpai?”

Ducking into Vil’s room ( after a proper knock and permission granted to enter, of course ), Riddle moved to stand in front of the blond, hesitating a moment. His brows were furrowed as though he hadn’t quite convinced himself he should have come, for he had a difficult time asking for things, when they were for him and not his dorm or for the sake of a rule. He knew, logically, that Vil-senpai was the last person who would ever laugh at him - doubly so since he had come seeking sincere advice. But shaking the mentality that when your worries were about yourself only, it meant you were taking up too much space was - difficult, and it was something he was still learning. It would take a long time yet, to stick in his brain.

It was the mental reminder his conscience brought that he was wasting time just standing there that caused him to move, producing a small, thin tube as his cheeks colored. He forced himself not to stutter as he attempted to explain himself ( no easy feat ), and somehow he managed.

“It’s—liquid eyeshadow. Cater told me he got an extra in his order, and he gave it to me as a gift. I…didn’t want to say I didn’t know how to use it.”

Because that would be shameful, wouldn’t it? Riddle, who was supposed to know everything, being toppled by a container of shiny gel.

“I thought that perhaps I should ask you, though I understand such a matter might seem frivolous, and you must be rather busy here. I could figure it out, I think. Perhaps you could simply offer a…verbal explanation…?”

Vil doesn't turn around from his vanity yet, looking through the mirror to watch Riddle enter behind him and carefully shut the door. If he hadn't known any better, he'd think Riddle was afraid to speak to him. Perhaps his nerves were getting the best of him? Whatever for, Vil wasn't sure. It was apparent that something ailed him — so much so that he needed to ask Vil privately.

Dismissing his suspicions, the Queen turns as Riddle takes a few steps closer and presented the small tube in his possession. "I see... I understand. Learning how to use a new product can be intimidating — especially liquids such as these. May I?" Holding his hand out, he takes the tube and turns to take a piece of blotting paper from his vanity. Unscrewing the lid, he dabs a light swatch of product onto the paper to look at the shade.

"...It is beautiful. I didn't know Cater knew how to use liquid eyeshadow. How generous of him." Using his leg to swiftly sweep the train of his robe to the side, he stands to swap places with Riddle. "Nonsense. You're too hard on yourself, as always. Most don't know how to work with liquid cosmetics. It's nothing to be embarrassed by. Here. Have a seat."

Ushering Riddle to sit in front of his vanity, Vil pulls his lounge seat over a few inches to sit in front of him. Reaching for the blotting paper once more, he holds it up beside the Red Queen's face. "I think he knew this color would suit you best. He was right." Tinted lips curve into a faint, genuine smile as he got to work — taking a thin makeup brush and a blending brush. "Now, there's no specific way to apply liquid eyeshadow, much like most cosmetics. Some use their fingers, and others use generic applicators... It's always a good idea to prime and put a base — with clean hands or brushes, of course. If you only want this to make this color pop, I advise a white base after priming. Usually, people play with these to see what they like best. Say, for example..." Looking at his palettes, he reaches for the neutral shades and starts with the primer, "Close your eyes."

Patting on the primer, he takes a small eyeshadow brush and packs on a white base on the outer end of Riddle's eyes. Then he blends a neutral shimmer on the center and inner corner. "Perhaps with some practice, you could start using this shade instead of what you usually do. As a change of pace." With the smaller brush, he starts carving the shape for the liquid shadow — similar to how Vil wears his eyeshadow — a faded cateye. "Remember, a little bit of this product goes a long way. It blends nicely, too, thankfully. The white on the outer end is making this stand out more."

Sitting straight, Vil takes a moment to admire his work and even takes Riddle's chin to make sure he's covered everything. "Open your eyes. What do you think of this side? Perhaps a little eyeliner would pull it together nicely but you're free to do without, if that's what you choose." While Riddle looks in the vanity, Vil is already reaching for a highlighter and taking Riddle's chin again only to gesture for him to close his eyes once more to add the lightest touches of highlight on the inner corner and even the center of his eyelids.

"It should last long. Of course, you need to let it dry..." Having released Riddle once more, he's taking the tube to look at the back. "Wait about fifteen seconds to a minute to make sure. Top it with a setting spray, you should be fine."

#rosehearrt #❧ ㅤㅤi'll show you how a real queen behaves.ㅤ( ic performance. )#◟ ⋆ㅤㅤyou’re talking to your highness.ㅤ( answered )#im in love w the image of vils train on his robe being swept by his feet where he's seated. anywhere. fuck.#its so elegant just that TRAIN.

3 notes · View notes