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heyidkyay · 1 year

Note

Just wondering if you would ever consider writing a Matty fic where he falls in love with a fan in the audience of a show? Maybe he writes songs about it all? It’s very cliche but man does it pull on my heart strings, the Cinderella of it all. Getting swept up into his life like that would be so romantic.

Tag along |

Part one

Strayed a little but it’s still very much fluff filled, maybe not what you’d first expect? Idk, that sounds strange but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Thank you for the prompt!<3

Part Two

It was official.

After days of relentless pleading and having been so blatantly coerced into it by my mum and younger sister, I’d finally relented and given in to attending the concert. And I sort of hated myself for it. Strange, I know, but now I had no choice but to see some fuck-off band- I’d never even heard of- with my teenage sister and her best mate, who were practically mad about them.

I mean, I love the girls, I truly do. With all my heart. But having to spend an entire evening with them, surrounded by a thousand other screaming fans, just wasn’t something I was looking too forward to.

And who could honestly blame me?

You see, it had all begun earlier that same week. I’d been on my lunch break, grateful to have just a minute to myself, when my mum had called. We’d gone through the motions, happy to catch up; she told me the gossip whirling round back home (next door were back to rowing again and Tracey in the post office had fallen pregnant for the seventh time); she’d asked after me, like she always did, questioned if I was eating enough, sleeping alright, if I’d met anyone new…

My mum and I had always been pretty close. She’d had me young, I was her first baby- something she never failed to remind me of- and we’d sort of grown up together. Seeing as how my father (nickname: The Sperm-Doner- yes, the caps were necessary) had gone and fallen into all kinds of shit and ultimately decided to fuck off when things had gotten too real. She was my rock, the one person I could count on to defend my corner, and always believed in everything I ever set my mind to.

It had been hard on the both of us when I’d left home, especially seeing as I was now a couple dozen cities away. But life continued on and we adapted, I went back to visit as much as I possibly could, and called whenever I had the time. Even though in moments when all I really needed was a good hug from her, it was easy to remember what I was doing this all for, and that my family was only a train journey away. They were a constant, even if they lived a couple hundred miles from me.

So she had phoned, I’d immediately noticed the stress which underlined her tone and I’d asked what was up. She’d danced around the topic as much as she could- she hated asking for things, ‘that’s my job,’ she liked to reiterate whenever something occurred and I tried to help out. But I’d dragged it out of her in the end. And oh how I now wished that I’d just left it.

Because here I was, stood in the freezing cold, outside of the O2 arena, in a line full of a couple hundred other excited fans who were all waiting eagerly for the gates to open.

The two girls were squirming beside me, so ecstatic you’d have thought that I’d gone and laced their drinks with something other than sugar, jumping all about the place whilst they squealed to one another in such a high pitched tone that anyone else would’ve believed that they were conversing in another language all together.

It was amusing to a point, because I could honestly recall the same euphoric high I’d felt when I’d finally gotten tickets to an Arctic Monkeys gig almost a decade ago now.

Internally I winced as the memory drifted to the forefront of my mind, feeling far too old for my twenty-three years.

But I could also admit that I was honestly in a tad bit of a mood, had been for the last half hour or so, because I truly fucking hated the cold. And right now? It was baltic and I was freezing my tits off.

I’d already buried my face into the opening of the leather jacket I’d thrown on that morning and wrapped my arms around my torso to enclose some of my remaining heat, but it was of little use. I was still shivering away with a frown.

I’d gotten a couple of lingering looks whilst here, something I’d noticed but could’ve cared less about. It was far too cold to be stood about waiting in any sort of line, so they could all excuse me for not being overly delighted with the whole ordeal.

I sighed and peered down at my phone screen, glancing at the time, then double checked my pockets for the tickets I’d been handed on arrival and told to guard with my life.

It was probably the twentieth time I’d done so, because who in their right mind would give me, of all people, something important to look after? I was the least irresponsible person I knew when it came to being organised.

Because listen, I could get anywhere on time, I was insanely good at that- a job interview, an airport, a school play… But nine times out of ten, I’d almost always forget the one thing I’d needed most. My resume, everybody’s passports, the wig I’d worn one halloween and promised to my younger brother so that he could complete his costume in time for his class assembly…

Yeah, so I was a bit of a mess. But who wasn’t?

Albeit saying that, I had ultimately been the one to score these tickets. My mum and step-dad had gifted them to my younger sister as an early Christmas present after she’d literally begged for months on end during the lead up to the drop of the presale.

It had just been the three of us, all sat down in the family living room, back home up north, earlier this year. We’d counted down the minutes, a dozen devices in hand and at the ready, and it had been something short of a miracle, in all truth.

The website had crashed a couple times, my step-dad’s phone had died, and then my laptop had quickly followed. The dog had knocked over a freshly made brew and almost pissed itself. And then the postman had scared the absolute life out of us when he’d knocked on the front door.

So to say that we had all breathed in sudden relief when I’d loudly announced that I’d managed it, was a MASSIVE understatement.

Note. The worst part to seeing your favourite band live; Ticketmaster.

Even the thought of doing it again had me riddled with anxiety. I shivered involuntary, whether it was from the mere idea of it, or the cold, I’d never know.

But being stood here now, I was cursing myself for having been the one to officially bag the stupid things. I sighed inwardly, if only I wasn’t such a brilliant, caring and amazing older sister. But it was a hard life, I supposed.

“I’m so excited!” My sister, Rosie, squealed, drawing me from my thoughts. She’d gripped onto Tea’s arm in her sudden bout of elation, and the two shared a maddening grin. The other girl didn’t seem to mind the tight grip her best friend held, and so I figured it was probably down to the anticipation of it all- or the fact that it was still so bloody cold.

The thing about Rosie and Tea was, they had been as thick as thieves for as long as I could remember. There’d never been one without the other, and so it was sweet to see the pair looking so forward to something like this, something which they both shared such an obvious love for.

“I know!” Tea breathed dramatically, looking a little flushed, “I want to meet them so bad, it actually hurts.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the pair, in good fun of course, because they were both so adorably obsessed.

Oh, to be a teen again.

“You two are really looking forward to this,” I commented with a light chuckle, watching on as the two girls danced around happily in the small section we’d claimed. “I just don’t get it.”

Once those words had left my lips, I instantly regretted it. Having been met with the deathly glare of two teenage girls was not something I’d offer up to just anyone.

“Are you serious?” My sister outrightly demanded, staring up at me with a face of utter bewilderment. Scarily, she looked a lot like our mum in that moment. “They’re The 1975, Y/n. They’re- incredible! You must have heard at least one of their songs!”

Tea nodded her head alongside Rosie, bobbing up and down in agreement.

I simply shrugged at the pair of them, finding amusement in their infatuation. “Can’t say that I have, Ro.”

“But, Y/n/n, you love bands! Music in general- I’d bet my whole vinyl collection that you’ll love them too!” Rosie stressed, she then smiled brightly up at me when I merely quirked a brow in retort. I dug my hands deeper into my pockets.

“I like bands, yeah. Band’s like The Stone Roses, The Kooks, Joy Division… The type that make music for music’s sake, you know? Not the kind that strive to get on the top ten, babe.”

I shook my head fondly at the two.

This band they were so enamoured by were probably just as decent as they claimed, and I could admit that simply because, well, they’d have to be to have all these crazy fans gathered in one place. But they just weren’t my cup of tea.

Ooh, talking of tea, I was proper gagging for one. I’d yet to have my daily fix, and after having been rudely rushed out of my flat early this morning, I’d been unable to stop off at any sort of coffee shop on the way over in fear of losing a spot in line.

The two teens rolled their eyes at me, and my forehead pinched when my sister pulled out a pair of headphones and all but shoved them into my ears. “Look, just listen, okay?”

I reeled back in alarm, having not expected the sudden ambush. “Christ, Ro!” I exclaimed, but the girl only huffed at me before turning to press play on her phone. She gave me a stern look. I relented.

At first, I couldn’t hear anything but the slow intro to an unfamiliar song- even with the swarm of fans gathered around me. But I continued to listen, honing in on the tempo and its melody. And as the song went on, I begun to understand why so many people enjoyed it. The lyrics, although a bit out there and entertainingly vulgar at parts, were smart and witty, they fell with the instrumental perfectly and the singer’s voice was pretty different to what I’d first expected. It made me want to really listen, to follow along, to understand the backstory.

Honestly, they weren’t half as terrible as I’d first believed. And once the outro had faded out, I actually felt a little conflicted. The song obviously had a much deeper meaning to it, but its instrumental made it so lively and energetic that I’d found myself bobbing along almost subconsciously. It was something I could see myself getting lost in, and I wondered whether or not they’d made anything more raw, or emotional.

The songwriter was definitely talented, I couldn’t deny that, they’d had gone through some shit, and I found myself longing to read deeper into their words.

“They’re sick, right?”

The headphones being ripped out of my ears brought me back to the present and I blinked slowly at my sister’s question.

“Yeah.” I shrugged a shoulder, handing over the wire. “Yeah, they’re alright. Can sort of see why you two like them so much.”

I laughed to myself when the girls faces lit up.

“They’re amazing! And you’ll so enjoy this show- as well as the boys! They’re proper nice deep down, like really care about us as fans and all that.” Tea encouraged, seemingly quite happy that I hadn’t just gone and shit all over her favourite band.

“Yeah, they’re so lovely, Y/n!” Rosie added, eyes alive as she barrelled on to explain further, “There’s four of them, right? First, we have Adam, he plays the guitar mainly- blonde, tall, only one who’s started his own little family. And then there’s Ross and George-”

“Ross is on bass, long haired with a beard, whilst George plays the drums.” Tea weighed in, before Rosie was back to chattering away again.

I was honestly beginning to feel as though I was watching an extreme game of tennis with the way my attention kept batting back and forth between them.

“Tea’s obsessed with him.” Rosie felt the need to inform me, before her face immediately brightened, “Oh, and then there’s Matty of course!”

My sister was wearing one of the biggest grins I’d ever witnessed on any singular person and I snorted when Tea rolled her eyes and made a slight dig, “You can see who Ro’s claimed.”

“Hardy har.” Rosie deadpanned, jutting a light elbow into her friend’s side before she gave me a serious look, “I haven’t ‘claimed’ him. I just…”

“You just want to have his children. Yeah, I know, Rose. You never fail to not mention it.”

Rosie stuck her tongue out in retort whilst I tried to bite back my rising amusement when they continued to bicker. The two made a right pair.

“So, what’s this Matty like then?” I questioned, wanting to know a little bit more about the guy who’d caught my sister’s eye, but mainly just eager to poke a bit more fun at her. “Come on, what’s so great about him that you’ve gone and dubbed yourself a tribute to birth his prodigy spawn?”

The girls wrinkled their noses at me, Rosie’s upper lip curled in faint disgust. “Why’ve you gotta word it like that?” She scoffed, shaking her head at me.

I chuckled, shrugging a singular shoulder. “Because I live to annoy you. So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to ask about?”

I made the effort then to pretend as though I was about to disrupt the group behind us’s conversation, but the girls were quick to waylay me, jumping hastily to grab at my outstretched hand. I smirked.

“Stop it!” Rosie all but hissed, her worried eyes flicking back over towards the people beside us before falling on me again, this time they were slitted. “God, you’re so embarrassing.”

Me, embarrassing? Hah. She should be thankful that I knew when to stop. I could still vividly recall the days when my mum had attempted the same shit with me, except she’s the type to actually follow through, leaving her daughter to stand sheepishly behind her, internally cursing the day her mother had decided to forgo an abortion. Dark, yes, but I’d also been a hormonal fifteen year old girl, so sue me.

I rolled my eyes instead of voicing this though, knowing it would only go in one ear and out the other. And ultimately, my sister sighed allowing me to prompt her on further with the rise of my brows.

“Matty, he’s the frontman basically.” She said, back to talking with her hands, forgetting about the whole ordeal.

That made sense, I thought to myself, although I’d always been a drummer sort of girl. Helders, Taylor, Fleetwood, Bonham, Moretti… I could go on.

No honestly, I could, so I was just glad that Rosie chose that moment to stop me.

“He’s a proper performer, you know? Like he just belongs up there, on stage.” My sister breathed, and she wore the sweetest look of admiration on her face. “He’s got this mop of messy black curls and he’s covered in tattoos. Wears all this cool shit and he’s-”

“-also a bit of an arsehole.” Tea summarised for her, before Rosie could get too carried away.

I blinked at my sister’s best friend in surprise, before a loud laugh bubbled out of me.

In all the years I’d known this girl, this deceivingly sweet girl, not once- once, I stress!- had I ever heard something so shameless spill from out her mouth, and with the exasperated look she had paired with it, I couldn’t hold in my delight.

“Tea!” I exclaimed, and was so tickled to see the younger girl’s cheeks redden when she turned to give me a sheepish sort of smile. “How crass! I always thought it was Rosie who’d been the bad influence between the pair of you, but now I see quite a few secrets are coming to light tonight.”

Rosie snorted in reply, “She’s done worse. Trust me.”

Tea swatted at my sister’s arm upon hearing that, widening her eyes in a silent warning.

“Oh, come off it.” Rosie waved away with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just Y/n.”

I decided to leave off of the teasing, feeling a bit bad for embarrassing the younger girl. “Yeah, I’m just messing, lovie.” I told Tea with a soft smile as I draped an arm over her shoulders to draw her in for a hug. “You can relax, nothing that happens tonight will be getting back to your mum, alright?”

“Yeah, ‘cause we all know what she’s like.” Rosie tittered under her breath and I slapped lightly at her bicep to scold her. “What?” The girl exaggerated with a high-pitched drawl, rubbing at her arm with a narrowed eyed glare that was directed towards both Tea and I. “I was just saying! And what’s with you two and smacking me about today?”

Tea giggled and I squeezed her lightly before letting go.

“Don’t talk about things that have nothing to do with you.” I told my sister simply, “Freya’s a perfectly lovely woman, just a tad…”

“Insane?” Rosie offered, at the same time Tea said, “Extreme.”

“Eccentric- was what I was going to say.” I shook my head at the duo. “Honestly, the two of you.”

The girls only laughed.

The line started to move a little while later, slowly mind, but it was a progress I was grateful to see.

Anything to get out of this chilly wind in truth.

And as we waddled along, the two teens I was with continued to speak of the band, trying to catch me up on anything and everything I’d missed before the show officially started.

Not that it helped at all. I was beyond crap when it came to things like that- recalling anything trivial- I could hardly even remember the band’s actual name and it was plastered practically everywhere around me. As well as this big box thing.

I breathed out a loud sigh of relief when I realised that we were up next, and when we were signalled over towards the gates by one of the arenas guards I could see just how nervous Rosie and Tea had grown, giddy but mostly eager to just get inside. I couldn’t help the fond smile which limned my lips then, happy to see them so excited.

“You three.” A large man, branded in a security uniform, called, jerking his head over at us. I heard the girls take a deep breath as we approached and I quietly chuckled at them. “Tickets?” He stated.

Oh shit, yeah. The tickets.

“Tickets…” I murmured quietly to myself, patting down my pockets to find them, “Tickets, tickets, tickets…”

I could feel the apprehension radiating off of my younger sister as I continued to riffle around for the poxy things, and so I flashed the bloke a wry smile before I started to unload the contents of my jacket pockets into both Rosie and Tea’s hands...

Gum, house keys, a stray tampon. Pack of haribo (because you never knew when you’d need those), ID, bank card, phone, charger. A few spare pound coins-

Oh God, that was where my Argos receipt had got to! I could finally return that shitty Nespresso machine my cousin and her fiancé had talked me into buying now.

I grinned in quiet victory whilst tucking the slip into the back pocket of my trousers.

“Y/n.” My sister stressed out in a hushed whisper, I just simply waved her off.

“They’re here somewhere. I felt them like, twenty minutes ago.” I assured her and- “Aha, told you! Three tickets, all here!”

I wore a triumphant grin when I held out the wrinkled papers towards the guard, who appeared to have been throughly amused by my prolonged charade. He took them from me to scan with a toothy smile.

“Oh cheer up, we’ll be in there in a sec.” I huffed at the girls, tucking all of my belongings back into their rightful place. Rosie didn’t look too cheerful though, but I could see that Tea’s lips had started to twitch, so I have her a conspiratorial wink in turn. Then glanced back towards the bloke, “We all good here?”

“Yeah, all good, love.” He exhaled on a faint chuckle, waving us in through the barrier without further issue. “You girls enjoy your night.”

“We will!” I promised, gifting him a gleeful smile, “You too- hope you don’t have to spend too much longer out in that cold!”

He just nodded at me, still looking rather entertained by all our antics.

“So embarrassing.” My sister felt the need to reiterate as we wondered further into the arena, practically growling.

“Oh, loosen up, would you? He was proper nice about it all. Fit too, don’t you think?” I said, glancing back over my shoulder.

But Rosie just rolled her eyes at me. Fed up, I was about to bite back at her when Tea’s unexpected gasp broke us from our little quarrel.

“Oh my god. They have the limited edition LP!”

Rosie’s eyes widened dramatically and before I knew it the two were scurrying away from me and over towards the merch stand. I sighed to myself and glanced about, hoping to see a sign that would lead me to where the bar might be.

—

We were here. In the middle of a fucking mass of people, but we’d actually done it. We’d finally managed to swindle our way near the front of standing, practically touching the barriers, even after having loaded up on snacks and drinks- mine mostly alcoholic.

The girls were buzzing. Looking all cute and excited in the outfits they’d planned months in advance, singing along to the set that was playing through the speakers to keep the crowd entertained before things begun.

And me? I was getting swept up in the atmosphere. Unable to believe that I’d almost forgotten how good it all felt. Because live music was truly unmatched.

There was just something about the heavy thud you felt in your veins, how being this close to the amps could make your chest ache in the very best way, and how’d you’d have to scream just to be heard over all the noise whilst you got lost in an avalanche of happy people.

It really had been too long.

I was already a fair few drinks in by the time the opening act came out, and was chatting away to the couple crowded beside us. They were both a year older than me and studying down in Bournemouth. They’d bought their tickets off of a mate, who hadn’t been able to make it, on a whim when they’d had the cash to spare, and had decided to make a weekend out of it.

We’d actually only gotten to talking when they’d almost sloshed a canned cocktail all down my back.

I’d been startled at first, rightfully so, as this giant of a man had all but stumbled right into me, eyes as wide as saucers. His boyfriend had come to his rescue though, offered me up one in apology, and who would I have been to deny?

So I’d cracked it open, found myself pleasantly surprised by the taste, and one thing had quickly led to another and they’d ended up letting me share the bagged vodka they’d also managed to smuggle into the stadium in the bands of their socks.

To say that I’d been impressed wouldn’t have been a lie, I sort of felt like I’d found my people in truth. Because the price of alcohol at these kind of events was always extortionate. Practically daylight robbery, there was no other way about it.

And my bank account had taken quite the hit from the first trip to the stands alone. And with two teenage girls, who could care less about money unless it was their own, I’d almost wanted to shed a tear when I’d handed over my card to the boy behind the till- he’d sympathised with me, I’d seen it in his eyes as he wished us a good time.

So here I now was, pissing it up in the pit with a bunch of strangers, a medical bag full of spirits clutched tightly in one hand.

“Oh, God! Y/n, Y/n! It’s starting!”

I turned away from one of the boys to glance back towards my sister, who was staring up at the stage with this starry eyed expression, Tea was right beside her wearing the exact same face. I chuckled beneath my breath.

“You girls ever been to a show before?” Lewis, one half of the couple I’d met earlier, asked Rosie.

My sister shook her head at his question whilst the screens above us begun to distort and screams overwhelmed the arena. Lewis merely chuckled at Rosie's nonverbal reply, she only had eyes for the stage it seemed.

“It’s her first gig ever. She’s been dying to see these lot for years.” I answered for her, leaning in close so that he could hear.

I saw his eyebrows lift at the information before he was grinning against my ear. “She’ll never want to see anyone else after this!”

My forehead pinched, silently questioning his statement, but just laughed it off when a row of boxes flashed brightly above us.

Lewis and I separated on cue, just as the world around us hushed for a split second and the sudden intro of a loud guitar pierced the veil.

“Please welcome, my favourite band, The 1975!” A voice then announced and I looked up, right into the eyes of a man who’d seemingly taken claim of the stage.

His smile was wide, unmatched, as he pranced up and down the front, his hair a mess of curls as a set of drums picked up the pace of the opening beat. I had to be reminded to close my gawping mouth.

Who the fuck’s that?

And I must’ve said it out loud, because I heard Lewis snort obnoxiously from right beside me, continuing to sing away whilst the girls immediately turned towards me to shout, “Matty!”

Shockingly, their loud exclamation also managed to garner the attention of the man himself when he danced by, and I watched on as the dark-haired frontman smiled down at Rosie and Tea. Waving hello.

I was caught by utter surprise when I then found myself trapped in his heady gaze, still giggling away at the girls' hysterical reactions.

Okay. Before I continue on, I truly am putting this all down to the alcohol that was streaming through my system, because it was then that Matty appeared to pause before me for the briefest of moments.

And I didn’t dare look away. I couldn’t.

He smirked down at me, eyes so observant, and I found myself shaking my head at him with a smile of my own. But sadly he only left me with a sly wink as he traipsed away to sing out into the rest of the audience.

Rosie and Tea had squealed beside me, excited to have captured the singer's focus, whilst I tried to catch my breath.

The show continued on after that and I allowed myself to relax and get lost in the people, their heat, the music. I danced, the girls and I swayed, twirling about, Lewis and I laughed, and I even managed to sing along to a couple of songs I sort of recognised.

The current one came to an end though soon enough, and Rosie informed me with a glossy eyed smile and smudged liner that the last song was fast approaching, whilst Tea just pulled out her phone to record again.

I nodded at my sister, squeezing her close before she pivoted away back towards her best mate, leaving me to sip at the drink I’d been trying not to spill all down myself due to the constant shoving and pushing.

Minutes went by and Matty engaged with the burly bloke on bass- whose hair I found I’d rather like to touch (because honestly, how did he get it so glossy?). Before he continued on, pointing out signs here and there, and sparking up another massive round of cheers by vocalising the inner workings of his mind, which was something he supposedly did quite often. Enough for the rest of the band to begin playing again only to shut him up. That had made me giggle.

Dozens of faces passed over the main screen, most of them beaming, or crying, there wasn’t much of an inbetween. And Matty interacted with them all, grinning and joking in such a way that only screamed sincerity.

The shouts around us only started to double then when he made his way over to our section, and even my own heartbeat sped up as I watched his eyes drag over the absurdly large crowd. He was unfairly attractive, okay? I could easily see why my sister had taken such a shine to him.

He was smiling and my pulse stuttered then stopped altogether when Matty paused right by us, to look me directly in the eye, his eyebrows drawn tightly together.

“Alright, darling? Having a good night?” He quizzed me, the sudden weight of his attention making me jump even though the surrounding screams had yet to cease. “What’s in the bag?”

I glanced down at the liquid filled bag I was still holding, gaze drifting to Lewis for a split second before it darted back up towards the singer. “Vodka.” I told him before I could think better of it.

The sound Matty produced then was almost inhuman and I was actually quite proud of myself for having been the cause of it.

“Definitely snuck that in.” He accused, quieter this time around and with a growing smile. The audience laughed.

Rosie and Tea spun around to face me, huge smiles threatening to split their faces in half, as my brows pinched.

“Way to out me to an entire arena!” I instantly called back, ducking slightly to avoid the eyes of the hefty security man stood on the other side of the barricade. Matty’s cackle echoed out around me, coming from all directions.

“Oi, mate! Escort her out, will you?” Matty ordered, nodding down at the same man I’d previously noticed. “Ruining it for everyone.”

I gaped, eyes widening in sudden alarm whilst he just shook his head at me, feigning disappointment.

Thankfully though the singer was quick to go back on his word, waving the guard (who had actually begun to MOVE) off with a sway of his hand and a thoroughly amused grin.

Fuck, this man was really going to be the death of me, I thought.

I willed my racing heart to slow.

“I’m just joking, love.” Matty reassured me, eyes twinkling under the array of lights. “Spotted you a couple times tonight, actually. Like to stand out, don’t you?”

It didn’t sound like much of a question.

“Might do.”

I could physically feel my brain struggling to make my mouth cooperate, and I figured I might’ve drunk a tad too much, because I usually wasn’t this tactless. Which was how I managed to surprise even myself with the next sentence I fired back.

“Or maybe it’s just you.”

“Just me?” Matty queried with a tilt of his head, and he squatted down then, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment before he took perch on the side of the stage. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who spotted me.” I retorted with a smug smile, raising my voice to be heard. “I’m just one face in a thousand. Nothing I did.”

He hummed, mouth quirked to one side. “So this is all on me then?”

I shrugged casually, but my mind was reeling.

Matty laughed before he motioned me closer. “Here’re.” He prompted, jutting his chin out and willing the crowd to woefully part. “Come on, let her through. Let her through.”

I frowned but did as I was told, slipping my way past the few who had actually managed to claim the metal fence before us, quirking a confused brow up at him.

He towered above me, even from where he was seated on the stage, and I willed back my shock when he proceeded to jump down from off his perch and approach me. My heart hammered and a lump formed in my throat.

“Have you got a favourite song of ours?” He asked and I actually felt how embarrassed I must have looked in that moment, gifting the singer a sheepish smile before I quietly informed him that I didn't have one.

His head jerked back, “What do you mean, you don’t have one?”

The sudden crow of Rosie's voice sounded above the rest of the buzzing noise then and I was unsure on whether or not to be grateful for it.

“She’d never heard any of them before tonight!”

I grimaced slightly from behind the hand that had come up to hide my face, silently hoping for the ground to just open up and swallow me whole. I could feel the heat radiating in my cheeks and the tips of my ears, knowing full well that Tea was definitely recording every inch of this mortifying moment.

“Oh, so we have a fake fan within our midsts?” Matty voiced and it was full of mirth, he found pleasure in his teasing.

A soft brush touched my skin and before I even knew what was occurring my hand was being pried away from my flushed cheeks by the singer himself, who looked me dead in the eye and had the utter nerve to wear the most devastating grin.

“Is this all part of your plan? Lure me in and then break my heart. How’re you at my gig, after never having heard a single one of our songs?”

“I’ve heard a few!”

But my attempt to defend myself was waylaid, it seemed Matty had other ideas.

The frontman nodded over towards Rosie, who blanched under his gaze. “Go on. Tell me more. What’s her motive here?”

I watched on as Tea nudged my younger sister into talking, Rosie too shellshocked to remember that she had the biggest gob I’d known to man.

“Um,” My sister startled, blinking away before she took a deep breath, “I dragged her along tonight. Me and my friend, we’re huge fans!”

“Lovely to meet you. Glad you could make it- only wish you’d made a listener out of this one beforehand!”

“We’ve tried!” Rosie exclaimed with an exasperated sigh that had me rolling my eyes. It appeared as though she'd reverted back to her usual self, despite being under the gaze of her favourite person in the entire world. Yes, you could be assured that that was an actual quote.

“Oh it’s like that is it?” Matty asked, peering down at me. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, his brown eyes smudged with kohl making them that much more enticing.

His attention differed then, flitting back towards my sister.

“She seemed to be enjoying the set whenever I looked over though, so what happened?”

“She’s stubborn!” Rosie shouted back, and I could hear her muffled laughter through the crowd, probably upon seeing me so put out.

“Stubborn, are we?” Matty smirked, and his lips were by my ear before I knew any better, his mic long forgotten. “I like a challenge.”

And then he was gone, back to wooing the crowd and making the most of having all this attention.

I let myself slip back into the seams, breathing heavily as my sister and Tea joggled me about, Lewis and his boyfriend beaming madly from ear to ear. I tried to focus.

What had just happened?

Part Two>

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darklydeliciousdesires · 11 months

Text

The Dream - Chapter Fifteen.

Oh bloody blimey, besties! I should have had this with you about five hours ago, lmao! I was to preoccupied with S5 dropping, I totally forgot! I hope you enjoy it, this was a chapter I loved writing for several reasons... especially nudging them together in the spice department ;) Huge thanks to all my regular givers of that all-important engagement, you’re lovely. Mwah!

Previous chapters - Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 3,023

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

The scenery that took them from the built up area of Provo and out towards Keri’s home was stunning, Angel thought, all tree lined roads that were still snow-capped, although like she’d told him during their time apart, there’d been no real deluges since the huge downfall that had left them stuck in at Frankie and Jaime’s apartment the previous Saturday.

The small crescent Keri lived upon, only a five-minute walk from the foot of the mountains consisted of just seven houses, all chalet style, lots of darkly stained wood with long driveways, Keri pulling into the one with the bright yellow mailbox out front, parking up next to a Toyota Crown, Angel pointing at the dark grey vehicle. “She’s still here. Fuck.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine,” she reassured him, hopping out of the car, Angel making that same small noise of dread in the back of his throat he had while at the airport. He usually didn’t give a shit what people thought of him, as was the case with her friend Aaron and his disproval, but with her mom, it did matter to him more.

Entering the house, he looked around at the décor, lots of pale jewel tones, heavy wood and thick rugs. It was cosy, rustic chic, very befitting of the location, shrugging his jacket off and hanging it up before kicking off his boots, not able to resist giving Keri’s butt a little stroke as she bent to unzip her boots. She turned with a grin, kissing him and walking through the lounge, turning right into the large, pale sage kitchen, Meryl looking up from where she’d been rooting in her bag with a small smile.

“Well,” she began, walking over and extending her hand, looking him up and down, “never let it be said that my daughter doesn't pick the good-looking ones. Hello Angel, I'm Meryl.” Civility, phew. Keri’s insides breathed a little sigh of relief.

He leaned to kiss her cheek as they shook hands, his hammering heart slowing a little to have been greeted with reasonable warmth. He had wondered. “Nice to meet you, and I hope you don't hate me too much either.”

Her eyebrows fluttered a touch. “That remains to be seen when I actually get to sit and talk to you properly! Anyway, I gotta dash. See you both later.” Kissing Keri on the cheek, she hauled her bag over her arm and left, leaving Angel to breathe a sigh of somewhat relief.

“Well, she didn’t take one look and tell me to fuck off, so there’s that, I guess,” he laughed, Keri encircling his waist in a hug as he yawned. “Would you mind if I went up and got a little sleep? Since you have your friends coming anyway, it keeps me out of your hair.”

“Not at all, come on.” He followed her up the stairs, Keri showing him the spare room before taking him to hers. “You can sleep in my room for now. What mom can’t see, she can’t get mad over. I like the idea of you being up here in my bed anyway.”

He began taking his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers before climbing beneath the covers, the raw cotton linen soft and comfy against his skin. “How long do we have until your girls arrive?”

She looked at her watch, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “About an hour.” A squeal left her mouth when he immediately sat up, yanking her down by his side, wrapping her in his arms.

“Stay here until then, even though I probably will be asleep in five minutes, I like having you next to me when I am.” He kissed her cheek, Keri running her hand up and down the bulk of his arm, feeling his lips press a few kisses against her neck.

“Deal. Want me to save you some breakfast?”

“No thanks, baby. I’m good, I ate two footlong subs before I got on the plane.”

“God, that’d send me into hibernation!” she exclaimed, Angel laughing, kissing the side of her neck again. She lay there with him, continuing the lazy stroking of his arm, realising that after less than two minutes, he’d drifted off. “Five minutes, my ass, sleepy man.” Untangling herself, she got up off the bed, leaving him somewhat reluctantly to go and make preparations for breakfast.

Her clumsiness very much extended to her cooking endeavours, Keri deciding to play it safe and make a tray bake, throwing in bacon, cut up sausages, tomatoes and mushrooms into a large crock dish ready to put into the oven and then crack a few eggs over halfway through cooking. The result? A one dish bake of loveliness that she likely wouldn’t ruin, to be served with toast and a big pot of coffee.

She had just successfully cracked the eggs into it and closed the oven once more when the doorbell chimed at just gone 8am, rushing to let her friends in, Rachel hopping up and down.

“Move! I need to pee!”

“Go upstairs,” Keri advised quickly, steering her towards the stairs. “The downstairs isn’t flushing.”

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna wet myself!” she continued, Keri and Frankie greeting one another with a hug and kiss as Rachel stormed the stairs.

“I swear, she has a bladder the size of an egg cup,” the latter joked. “Oh, before I forget! Jaime said can she have the top you borrowed back, please?”

“Yeah, sorry I did mean to bring it with me to college in the week. I’ll go get it now, coffee is done so go help yourself.” She was just coming back out of her bedroom as Rachel exited the bathroom, peering over her shoulder, an elegantly groomed eyebrow rising significantly higher than the other.

“So, you’re seriously telling me, you’re making a man as good looking as he is, with a chest like that, wait for sex?”

Keri gave her arm a soft thump. “Don’t be a perv!”

“Oh, honey!” She exclaimed softly as Keri closed her bedroom door quietly. “If I were you, I would have cancelled with us this morning and been quite happily in there, sitting right on his face.”

A little flicker of fire licked her insides, Keri remembering doing just that to him in a dream once. “Hmm,” she began as they descended the stairs. “I might give him a little something before he leaves again. I might not.”

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of something, a little tease,” Rachel giggled, giving her shoulders a soft squeeze.

“Who’s teasing? You mean Keri and her big ole’ wedge of man upstairs?” Frankie called as they entered the kitchen. “Still not uncrossing your legs for the poor fella then, K?”

“That remains to be seen,” she spoke sweetly, moving to the toaster and placing the bread in.

Frankie snorted into her coffee mug. “Beets, just give up the P! How long has it been since you got laid?”

Her mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. “Three months.”

“Oh, oh three months, she says, three months, she throws out like it’s nothing,” Frankie spoke, her voice full of comic dismissiveness. “Get up those stairs and have a ride on him, go on. We can wait, can’t we?”

Rachel nodded rapidly. “We can.”

“Quit it!” they were advised, Keri feeling her cheeks reddening. “You two are awful.”

Rachel cocked her head, taking a seat next to Frankie. “I’ll take that.”

“Yeah, me too.” Her grin finally made Keri crack as she placed the dish down on the place mats upon the island, laughing as she began to serve up the breakfast, Frankie helping by getting up to go and butter the toast.

They enjoyed their food, chattering away as they ate and then cleared up the mess, Keri picking up her camera and taking a few beautifully candid shots of them both, turning to show them along the way.

“Oh, look at that one!” Frankie gushed, viewing the close up of Rachel smiling the way the light caught the green tones in her eyes, the vibrancy of her red hair even more luminous, the subject herself loving it just as much.

“Yeah, that looks amazing.”

All three of them nearly died of fright at the sudden appearance of Angel, three shocked squeaks making him rumble with laughter, Frankie smacking him in the abs with an almighty slap against his bare skin.

“Dickhead!” she cried, Angel wrapping her in a hug, kissing the top of her head, greeting Rachel too, who grinned hugely at being squished against the very chest she’d so admired, Angel then moving to Keri, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“Thought you were sleeping?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Turns out two hours is all I needed. Besides, can I be blamed for there being three gorgeous women in the house and me not coming to hang out with them?”

“Charmer,” Frankie snorted. “You gotta dial it back, or Rachel will be sliding off her fucking stool.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, eyes fixing on Rachel, mortified by her friend. “Like what you see, huh, Rach?”

“Keri is a lucky girl, that’s all I’m saying,” she spoke, side eyeing a very proud looking Frankie, who just kept right on going.

“She isn’t that lucky! We’ve been told, Angel, that she’s being all coy where giving up the P is concerned.” Keri’s lips tightened, glad Angel was behind her so he couldn’t see the look on her face, her eyes widening in a ‘don’t you dare!’ stare of death. “You’d probably get further with a nun.”

Immediately, he boomed with laughter, but not solely in response to the joke. “I did, one time.”

“What?” Frankie shouted. “You tried to fuck a nun?”

“Didn’t try.” Leaning forward, he reached for a shiny, red apple from the fruit bowl. “Did fuck her, mamas.”

Keri’s mouth dropped open, turning to look at him as he bit into the apple, the others wearing the exact same faces of shock. “You defiled one of god’s wives?”

He shrugged, winking. “She liked it.”

Immediately, Frankie reached across the island, throwing her fist forward. “Bump it, bro. That’s the best score I’ve ever heard in my life!” He obliged, laughing.

“Unholy come-union,” Rachel added, Angel bellowing with laughter.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Keri was still stuck in shock, Angel reaching beneath her chin with his thumb and shutting her gaping mouth. “What?”

“You!”

“I bet he’s got way naughtier stories in his arsenal,” Frankie added, her eyes alight. She loved hearing about other people’s wild shenanigans.

“Oh, I do, but I don’t wanna mortify Keri. We’ll have some bro time, I’ll tell you then,” he vouched with a nod. Once again, Keri’s head swivelled comically to look at him.

“Ahem, I’m not made of glass,” she muttered, poking him under his chin.

“Fine,” he spoke through a mouthful of apple. “Frances, proceed.”

Her question was immediate, like it had been burning the tip of her tongue. “Most forbidden fuck you’ve ever had, apart from the nun?”

“That wasn’t forbidden. She was running away from her convent, I gave her a ride, took her home and she gave me one. Simple,” he began, Rachel screaming with laughter above the giggles of her friends. “Nah, the worst one was when I banged the wife of a rival club’s president.”

Frankie grinned. “I’m sensing there’s an ‘and’, here.”

“And I might’ve filmed it.”

“And?”

“Might’ve sent it to him.”

“And?”

“Might’ve instigated a small war.”

“And?”

“Might’ve got kicked right in the crotch by our club president for not being able to keep my dick under control.”

Keri was folded in half, her laughter making her sides hurt. “You are so bad!”

“I am,” he confessed. “Well, I was. I’ve calmed down a little now, though.” Bishop’s boot meeting his cock at a hundred miles an hour had checked him adequately, even though eventually, he’d found Angel’s antics pretty funny.

Frankie could barely breathe for laughing. “He’s an animal, I love him!” she cried, wiping her tears of laughter, Angel grinning, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. Keri stood and composed herself, basking in the affection of him, the humour of his stories, and the glow that her friends seemed to think he was just as amazing as she did. He’d settled right into her world, like a jigsaw piece that was always meant to click into place there.

A while later, after her friends had left and her jigsaw piece had decided he wanted to go back to bed for a while, she stood in the kitchen putting away plates after the dishwasher had finished its cycle, thinking on the things he’d told them.

She knew Angel was an incredibly sexual person, it was something that radiated from him in shades, but she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t feel a little intimidated over the fact that his sexual experience eclipsed hers in shades. She wasn’t a virginal princess, she very much had a wild side that liked to reveal itself when she felt secure enough to do so, but it did nag at her a tiny bit. Was he really okay with waiting, truly? Was she overthinking things?

“Nothing wrong with a little bit of something, a little tease.” Rachel’s words returned to her there. Maybe, it might be just the thing to make her relax, take a little power herself, redress the balance. He’d asked her not to be a cock tease, but hell, he might enjoy her being playful with him?

The anticipation of pleasure was, after all, a very considerable pleasure in itself.

“Oh, giving me a little strip, huh?” Angel asked after she’d joined him in her bedroom, removing her sock and jeans, her undies and top remaining.

“Only a very brief one.” Lifting the covers, she climbed in beside him, cuddling up against him. “Since I won’t have this later, I’m getting it now.”

“What, teasing me with those gorgeous legs?”

Sticking one out from under the covers, she examined it with a soft hum. “Yeah, they’re not bad, are they?”

“I’m sure they’ll be even better when they’re wrapped around me.”

The coyness of her smile gave way to something truly devilish, Angel feeling arousal stir low within him. “I remember you saying you wanted to watch that Vikings show when we spoke in the week. Shall we, since we have no plans to go out until tomorrow?”

“Yeah, can do.” he replied casually, Keri exiting the comforter once more, crawling to the end of the bed to begin hunting for her TV remote. Oh, god. She knew what she was doing, the sight of her ass in a small pair of black undies making that little stirring suddenly whirl much more ferociously for him. “You need to stop with that shit.”

Looking back over her shoulder, her eyes wide an innocent, it took Angel all he had not to launch himself at her. “I’ve no idea what you mean, big guy. I’m just looking for the remote.”

Like fuck, she had no idea. “Ahh, got it!” Shuffling back, she switched the TV on, getting comfortable beside him again. She could feel his eyes fixed upon her, turning to kiss his chest. “What?”

He sucked a breath over his teeth. “The fucking audacity. Presenting me with the very thing I’d fucking eat from front to back, given half the damned chance, shit!” Again, she was in hysterics, Angel just looking mildly pained.

“That thorough, huh?” she winked, kissing him when he growled in frustration, turning her over and pinning her beneath his weight.

“What’s that I said about not being a cock tease?” He arched an eyebrow at her, Keri biting her lip, deliberately brushing his sides with her thighs. “Oh, baby girl. If you play me, I'll fucking play back, and you won't like it one bit.”

Her lips tilted into a grin. “Is that how it is, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, kissing her chest, taking her wrists and pushing them down above her head, holding her there pinned easily with one hand encircling both. “That’s how it is.”

“So, you have me pinned, what's next?” she asked, a smirk tilting her pretty mouth. He didn't answer her in words, leaning to her, offering slow, lazy kisses, tickling her lips with his tongue before it slid against hers, his free hand beginning to trail up and down her side. It was barely anything at all, actions wise, but already, she felt heat beginning to glow through her depths, their kisses becoming heavier, Angel moving between her legs a little closer, pressing his rigid cock against her apex.

“This is next, if you really, really want it,” he began, her thighs tensing at his waist. “Or maybe this.” He flickered his tongue speedily at the side of her throat, his hand moving down, a finger dipping to trail beneath the elastic of her underwear. “Up to you, pretty girl, whether I dick you down slow, or lick you quickly.”

He looked down upon her again, her chest flushed pink, her lips parted as she panted softly, her pupils fully blown, leaning to her, kissing her with filthy heat. “And I know whatever you choose, I have you so damned worked up right now, it’d only take about ten seconds before you came, either all over my dick, or my tongue. So, which one do you want?”

“I... I...” she gasped, arching against him, feeling heavy from the ache of lust between her legs. “I don’t know.” Another kiss, and she was on fire, Angel moving his mouth to her neck once more, his cock pushing against her harder.

“Well, y’all got plenty of time to make up your mind, because you ain’t getting either any time soon.” Releasing his grasp, he turned onto his back, winking at her stunned face. “I told you not to play me.”

“Oh, I’m going to get you back so bad for that.”

Lifting his chin with narrowed eyes, his mouth broadened into a grin. “Bring it.”

#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x ofc #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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mchlgayser · 1 year

Text

𓂃⭑ᜊ: SASS ft trent alexander-arnold

𓂃⭑ᜊ an: HELLO! Okay first of all, this idea just kind of popped up in my head but I'm not complaining! Lol I came up with such a great idea *maliciously laughing*

𓂃⭑ᜊ content warning: cursing and bad actions

𓂃⭑ᜊ: @iwritesjud3's masterlist

It was a hot sunny day, a well-perfect day to ruin your mood. To sum up the matter worse, you had promised your boyfriend you would come to his match today, not that you always don't but since you got your ticket booked late you couldn't manage to get the v.i.p benchers.

Not that you mind but ever since you and Trent publicized your relationship to the world and media, many of his fans hadn't take you seriously, you are a rising model star, fame and money are your mid name but what made the fans not very much fond of you is your poorly attitude and nastiness.

I mean, come on you are not that rude and vicious but due to your career, you are always with your resting bitch face 24/7. And nasty? Yes, you are a bit sassy, and you give rude remarks to rude interviewers but that's it, you are quite friendly to your fans but of course, it's the media that always point out your flaws. But do you care? No, you don't give a fuck.

Your relationship with Trent has always been sweet and nontoxic, those who know you both would say that you both have the perfect relationship anyone could ever ask for.

You are always in your 'I don't give a fuck' mode but today since you know you won't be able to be in the v.i.p you should at least lay low, not to attracts attention from his horny fans.

Right now, you are dressed in his jersey with a pair of jeans skirt that stopped right above your knees, you wore a pair of sneakers and even wore his grey cap and a mask. You didn't bother to wear makeup, partially because you wears a mask. You get your purse bag and a few important essentials and left afterwards.

You arrived at the place already on your way to your seat before you accidentally launch with three girls who are also on their way 'Hey watch it!' The brunette yelled, her other friends helping her as she accidentally poured some of the carbonated drink on her jersey 'Sorry,' you apologized, already marching to your seat but she pulled you back, intentionally dropping your cap and ruining your messy ponytail and your hair let loose, you gasped in disbelief 'Hey!'

'Oh my God! Are you who I thought you were? Y/n L/n?' She laughed while her other friends joined in 'God, it is you!' You take off your mask 'What if I am, Gosh just give me back the cap!' She throw it away to the crowds and snickered 'Oh looks like it went missing, sadly you gotta go and search for it.'

'Yeah no shit, the cap went missing just like your father did.' She gasped 'How dare you?!' You throw her one nasty look 'And please, what's the different between your father and your hairline? None, both missing.'

'And you, you got a stink and tangled hair like you bath rain puddle. And you, your laugh sounds like a hyena who just recovered from asthma. You should've thought twice before coming here and roasting me, you bunch of horny hoes.' You sassed, rolling your eyes at them

'And this is why you got so much hate on social medias, I wonder what Trent sees in you anyway! You are so rude!'

You give her a sarcastic laugh 'Who? Me, rude? You started it and please, it's people like you who would crumble down when you get a little hate on the internet, I don't give a damn about what other people said and what you did you said? What does Trent see in me? Probably something that you can't afford having, so peace out whores.'

She went blazing mad, eyes fuming with anger, her two other friends are embarrassed enough that so many people are eyeing them and whispering 'Just so you know, once this shit got viral, I won't be the only one who got the hates, you three will too and as for me it was something that I used to. So I hope you booked a therapist just in case you got depression or something.' You gave them one last look and left for your seat.

The match ended with Liverpool winning the game, you are more than happy that your boyfriend got to prove himself again by doing amazing assists and scoring one goal against the opponent team. He found you as soon as the match ended, he mouthed and motioned you to meet him after that and you did.

He was smiling when he sees you, inviting you in for a long and warm hug 'Okay, to be frank, I saw you fighting with three of my fans.' You groan in frustration 'You just had to mock me!' He chuckles wrapping an arm around you to caress your back 'Someone recorded it and it went viral rapidly! They got your convo from a to z.'

You broke the hug and crashed one brow at him 'Really? So it's like my name is clean now innit? I mean I wasn't in the wrong at all!' He laughs harder, pressing his face to your neck 'Multiple people praised you for your quick remarks! I assume they liked it!' You snort 'They better be!'

trentupdates

❤️🚀💬

3,475 likes

trentupdates model @yourusername is spotted on trent's game tonight, she was caught on camera fighting with three fans

view 497 comments

fans1 what she did was 100% reasonable, they were harassing her when she absolutely did nothing wrong

fans2 I love her more for calling them out like that

fans3 replied the dad ones tho 💀💀

fans2 replied ...honestly serve them right

fightingfan2 @fightingfan1 this is all ur fucking fault

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antimony-medusa · 6 months

Note

hey, medusa!!! i’m wanting to run an exchange, but i’ve never done so before. do you have a guide or some tips?

Okay. Oh boy. I do not have a formal guide. What I know off the top of my head (this is a bit fragmented cause I've been at a wedding all weekend) is this.

If you are running an exchange, it is orders of magnitude easier to do it on Ao3 rather than using a google form and hand-matching. This is for two reasons. One is the aforementioned hand-matching— it's more complicated to get people to sign up on Ao3, but you can make guides for it, and matching through Ao3 is a like 90 minute process including checking for people who've made Do Not Match requests, and hand-matching if you have more than like 9 people is a multi-day process. I think it took me four day to match the holiday exchange last time, and I had an insane spreadsheet about it. The other aspect is communication— through Ao3 you just press a button and everyone gets their assignment emailed to them. If you're using a google form, you have to fall back on either having a discord you get everyone to join (which you then have to moderate, and then send individual messages) or using tumblr messaging (and if you send more than 50 messages to people a day it caps you, and if you do that three days running, you get shadow banned).

It is vitally important that you allow a space for people to put down their Do Not Wants, to avoid people getting fics or art they hate or are actively triggered by. But it really helps if you can emphasize that your Do Not Want needs to be neutral and polite, cause who knows who is gonna get your request, cause otherwise you do have people signing up with things like "no dark fic or creepy stuff" and not only is that rude to people who like dark fic, that's REALLY hard to moderate— what's "creepy stuff"? Who decides?

If you are having an exchange that's over a month long, it's really helpful to have a check-in to make sure everybody is still working on the gift and to remind people that the deadline is coming. You'll always get defaults around check-in time as people go OH SHIT.

Expect that about 20% of your exchange will either default (communicating this with you) or just no-show at the deadline. Do not assume that someone who missed a deadline is going to get it in soon, you need to follow up with them IMMEDIATELY and start saying things like "if I haven't heard from you in 8 hours I'm going to assume you've defaulted and send this to pinch hits", or things will stretch on for WEEKS. You'll need pinch hitters for these people who didn't get their gift done— and like, this isn't a thing to be mad at— people get sick, computers blow up, people leave the fandom, internet goes out, life happens— and you'll need a plan in place to get assignments to the pinch hitters, and a timeline for them to get their gift done. I've had people noshow because they left the fandom and they didn't think to tell anyone, and I've had people noshow because they were in intensive care. You get the whole spectrum. Remember that when you're communicating with someone, you COULD be talking to the intensive care person, so be direct and actionable (I need to hear from you within x timeframe or I'm gonna assume you're unable to get your gift done) but still be polite. With a 1k assignment minimum, most pinch-hitters can get a gift done in a week or less.

Spend some time thinking about your content rules and how you'll enforce them. The point of moderation is not to provide a value judgement for anything, no matter your personal opinions, you're there to be an impartial enforcer of the rules— rules that were clear enough to start with that everyone had a reasonable understanding of them when they entered the space, so that they could make an informed decision about the space and if they would be comfortable there. So a rule like "no e-rated fics" is fine and enforceable, and if you have an exchange with minors that's a reasonable idea, but a rule like "no dark content" becomes very hard to enforce, because who's defining that? Does dark humour count? How dark can angst-with-a-happy-ending get before it counts? If there's torture in your source material, can it be used in work? Major Character Death? And so on. You need to look at your rules and go "how would someone who doesn't know me interpret that" if at all possible, and try and think of worst case scenarios, and try and make things clear and understandable and enforceable.

Within MCYT spaces, if you're doing anything multifandom/anything that goes outside of your circle of friends, I'd really recommend not trying to enforce streamer boundaries, because every different social circle has a different understanding of what those boundaries are. Trying to make a set of rules that includes both hermitfandom and lifesteal fandom and dsmp fandom, while including boundaries, is a screaming nightmare. Plus you start having to run down clips for things instead of actually running your exchange, and it is flat out impossible to find recent and fully informed clips that can't be misinterpreted, for a startling variety of streamers who you'd think (from your social circle) was settled known fact where we had a powerpoint presentation from the streamer. In my opinion running an exchange as Don't Like: Don't Read, maybe with major content warning rules (enforcable and clear!), and then making sure to match carefully is the only way forward.

As a mod, you become basically a non-judgemental customer service guy for a month. You are non-partisan. I've had this happen, and it is REALLY demoralizing to have a mod go "lol that's weird" or "this segment of the fandom is kind of funny" or "we don't want any of those guys" in a space that's theoretically supposed to be welcoming, so if you have said things like "everyone is welome" you have to mean it. There is nothing someone can bring you that makes you go "that's weird" for the duration of the exchange, even if you personally are absolutely not vibing with a person's ships or prompts or aus, or their reason for not getting their fic done seems flimsy, or whatever else. Your entire job is to be non-judgemental supportive helpful rules person, and that's it. You will answer questions already answered in the FAQ a lot.

That's all I can think of, if you have futher questions ask away. :D

#x-ca1iber #ask #fic exchange

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ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

the power of love pt six | stranger things ; s.harrington

AUTHORS NOTES; If you think this post looks a wee different than when you last saw it, it does. Trying out a new format, but I digress. This chapter came to me on a whim and honestly, I love how it turned out. I hope nobody minds me adding background characters to these because I'm originally an original character writer and writing y/n or reader format is new to me. Kind of challenging sometimes, but I'm enjoying the ride.

You guys have me mind blown, oh my god. I didn't think anybody would actually read anything I posted on here, let alone interact with it. The fact that you guys have been doing that just. I'm in my feelings, ugh, I love you all so so so fucking much and I hope that just one thing I write makes even just one person's day better because then it will definitely be worth it.

-Ashes

SUMMARY; you, the reader, are the older sister of Dustin Henderson. and until Steve Harrington came along, you were pretty much just doing your own thing. an unlikely friendship forms, but will it lead to more?

--- the chapter where reader and steve do a little grocery shopping, have a little moment or two and reader reveals her car has a name.

PAIRING; Steve Harrington x Henderson!Fem reader.

WARNINGS; mentions of the devils lettuce, awkward conversations, swearing, Steve Harrington is a warning all in himself, angst + mutual pining, eventual feelth -tis spelled this way for a reason babes, and thas it.

TAGLIST;

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OTHER STUFF;

I do not consent to having my work copied/pasted and reposted here or elsewhere. You don’t own this. I do. Don’t steal my shit.

tags doc, bby || rules/fandoms || requests;open - headcanon asks + nsfw or sfw alphabet letters || got a request?

“Y’know, tutoring usually ends with books and notebooks. Not a grocery trip..” Dustin’s statement has you reaching out to lower the volume on the radio and you reach across the seat to playfully tweak his cap. “Aw, don’t worry.. I won’t forget your stupid pudding cups. Mom needed food anyway and all I’m buying with the rest of my check is art supplies.”

“And weed.” Dustin snorts out, laughing.

“Hey!”

“You don’t have to hide it from me. I know what you’re doing when you’re sitting on the big limb outside your bedroom window late at night. Surprised you haven’t fallen out of the damn tree yet, clumsy as you are.”

“Watch it, little fucker.” you warn, laughing. But your brother’s got that solemn little old man look, like he wants to say something but he’s not sure he should. You reach out and lower the radio again. “Okay, kid. Out with it.”

“I just dunno about him, okay? I mean Mike’s always saying he’s kind of a slut..”

“Again, I remind you.. You are the little brother. But continue?” you nod, waiting for Dustin to finish whatever he’s working up to saying.

“I just want you to be careful, alright?”

“Dustin, oh my god… I swear, if you give me a lecture, kid.. I’m gonna hug you in front of everybody at the arcade when I drop you. Do you really want Gia to see that?”

Dustin shrugs. “I think she’s pissed at me anyway.”

You rub the bridge of your nose. “Okay, what’d you do?”

“It’s more what she did. She uh.. Tried to kiss me, I panicked and bolted out of the AV room.”

You’re snorting because you’re laughing because this is peak Dustin, truly. This is your adorable little brother. You place a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to kiss her back, y’know. If you don’t wanna. If she’s mad, so be it. It’s your body, your choice.”

Dustin seems relieved. He hates people getting mad at him. Always has.

You pull to a stop in front of the arcade. “I’ll be back at six, tops.” you promise. As Dustin goes to get out, you catch hold of his hand and place some badly wadded bills into it and you smile. “Play a few extra rounds. Or go across to the diner and get something to eat with your friends.”

“Thank you.” he smiles and leans in for a hug. Those are getting a little rare since he’s hit middle school. You miss it, you really do. The hug lingers and as he pulls away, he smirks. “No funny business with Steve.”

“We’re just going to study, damn it. Why the hell does everyone insist that he likes me or I like him?”

“Because I know you. I know you like him. Besides, that’s why you went on a whole three page tangent about him in your diary the last time you wrote in it. You don’t devote three pages to someone you don’t care about a little, I mean.. C’mon.”

Dustin rushes inside and you pull away, turning around to go back towards the side of town Steve lives on. The whole drive over, you want to kick yourself because the last thing your little brother said to you before he got out of the car won’t leave you alone.

No amount of trying to shove it out of your head helps. At all.

By the time you’re parking in Steve’s driveway behind Steve’s BMW, you’ve managed to convince yourself that he’s definitely not wrong and you definitely feel something but you’re also better off keeping it buried, keeping it locked inside of you because you know there’s no possible way telling him would end in anything besides disaster.

Steve’s leaning in the doorway and when your car pulls to a stop behind his, he can feel his heart flutter a little. He grins to himself and starts to walk down to your car. You take a deep breath, push everything in your head out of it and roll down your window.

“I’m driving. You drive like a bat out of hell, woman.”

“As if!” you answer, pouting a little.

“C’mon.” Steve insists calmly. You grumble, but you get out. You’re forehead to chest with him and you’re giggling to yourself about it while also wanting to kick yourself because you just giggled. Again.

You pull yourself together and look up at him, head tilted. A hand against his chest and he wonders if you’ve realized yet that whenever you do this, you always seem to place your hand in the exact same spot, without fail, every time. Right over his heart. You bite your lip and his eyes fix on the little movement, soft lips.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss them and it’s only the thousandth time today.

“Steeve, c’mon. Grocery store closes in like.. An hour.” you tap your foot and clutch at his shirt a little. “And you’re getting real food. Not the processed shit.”

“Alright, alright. Y’know, I’m doing just fine with this processed shit.”

“Mhm.. Talk to me in fifteen years when you’re in my emergency room with artery problems. Nope, not havin it, sir.” you laugh softly.

“You’re going into medicine?” Steve asks as he adjusts the seat.

Somehow, this didn’t surprise him.

You shrug. “Toyed with it. I mean my mom is a nurse. And it doesn’t take that long to get a license and take the training. I don’t know about doing it though because she’s always working and like… That just doesn’t fit with what I want?”

Steve studies you intently. “What’s that?”

You’re flustered. One, you don’t know how to answer it without sounding like a sap or coming across as weak and dependent, neither of which you happen to believe you are. Two, you’re pretty sure he’ll laugh his ass off at you.

“It’s dumb, alright? Just.. trust me.” you laugh softly.

“It’s probably not that bad.” Steve mumbles, glancing at you as he stops at the sign on the end of his street to look for oncoming traffic. “C’mon.”

“Steve, I’m telling you. It’s dumb.”

“Just say it.” he insists.

“Ugh, fine. Fuck it. One day, I wanna have a family. And nursing is kind of counterintuitive to that. Because I’m not gonna put myself through what my mother has to do to support Dustin and I. There are days when she works back to back and has to miss something either of us has going and I hear her crying at night..” you go quiet and stare out the window, watching houses pass by. You’re waiting on him to laugh, or react in some way, but he doesn’t, at first.

Steve’s watching you out of the corner of his eyes as he drives into town. You’re doing that little thing again where your hands are in your lap and you’re playing with your fingers and the sleeve of your shirt. You’re practically squirming, he can tell that what you’ve just admitted was hard to say, but he can’t think of anything to say because he just keeps hearing what you’ve said over and over in his head. And then there’s all the stuff Tommy and Carol, even Billy, they keep insisting there’s something there and deep down, he knows there is.

The fact that somehow, you want the same thing as he does, he doesn’t know whether to take that as a sign and hold tight now, do whatever it takes to never let go or keep insisting that they’re all wrong and go on the way he is now.

,, you don’t have to have an answer right away, idiot. You’re probably not enough anyway. Your own parents barely come home but what two? Three? Times a year because they can’t be around you?” the thought is sombering but this time… this time, there’s this little sliver of hope that just won’t die like it usually does after his latest round of pessimism and overthinking.

The grocery store parking lot comes into view and he pulls into an empty spot in the back row. By now, you’re pretty sure that your stupid little confession was just too much because something in the air has shifted, the tension is back again and God, it’s thicker, it’s choking almost.

He kills the engine to your car and clears his throat. “Y’know… you don’t have t’ do one or the other.”

“Yeah.” you mumble quietly. “I told you it was dumb.” you’re faking a grin, shrugging as you reach for the door handle on the passenger side. Steve reaches out to grab your wrist, stopping you because he could look at you and tell you were about to bolt and you’d probably never bring up anything personal around him ever again.

You glance back over your shoulder at him. Your eyes dart down to the way that hand of his is wrapped around your wrist gingerly. “Steve, c’mon.”

“It’s not stupid. If that’s what you want, that’s what you want. I-I.. I mean it, okay? It’s not dumb at all.” Steve says it in this quiet and calm tone, almost as if somehow he’s picking up on your embarrassment and he’s trying to fix it when you’re the one who made things embarrassing to start with. You swallow hard and shrug. “Doesn’t matter anyway, right? We’ve gotta wade through the bullshit that is high school first.” you take a deep breath and plaster on a grin that you hope is convincing enough to get him to change the topic and get into the store.

Steve nods. He’s got that calm feeling again. The one he always seems to feel lately whenever he’s around you. He even laughs quietly in agreement while his mind spins out of control over the simple fact that you didn’t say I’ve just gotta wade through the bullshit that is high school but we’ve.

What’s scary as hell and absolutely perfect is just how easily he can sit back and imagine things, a few years down the road… If he can just get himself to do something. Anything.

And then it hits him. Tommy and Carol are right. Billy’s right. Everyone who has been telling him for a while now that there is something there and sooner or later, he won’t be able to fight it anymore, the way they’re always asking him wouldn’t it be worth the risk to at least try..

He’s gotta do something.

And this makes up his mind.

He has to at least try again.

He lets go of your wrist and gets out of the car, locking it before making his way around to where you’re standing, a cart in front of you. Rather than just walk beside you like he probably would have a few minutes before the conversation, he stands behind you, his arms encasing yours, his chest against your back. “I still say the processed shit isn’t that bad because I’m a nightmare in the kitchen.”

You gulp because his cologne is in your nose, his chest is against your back and he’s propped his chin so that his mouth is right next to your ear because of course, he’s slouching… Again. You manage to pull yourself together enough to glance over your shoulder at him and you smile. “We’ll stick to the easy stuff, I promise.” you reach out for a bag of grapes in produce and you’re popping one into your mouth. Steve snickers to himself and mumbles quietly against your ear, “You’re not supposed t’ eat them now.”

“But that’s the fun part.” you pout a little and laughing softly, you hold one up to him. He opens his mouth and you pop the grape into it. “That’s actually not so bad. Haven’t eaten grapes since we were in elementary school.”

When his parents hired the nanny to look after him. The only amount of time he had packed lunches every single day.

His hands just won’t be still. As you push the cart, he stays behind you, but his hands are on your hip when they’re not on the handle of the cart. You’re barely able to focus because of course you’re not and you’re wondering whether maybe, just once, Valerie maybe doesn’t have a point every single time she tells you lately that you and Steve Harrington are so much more than ‘just friends’.

You round the corner after grabbing a few things and you’re wandering down the pasta and sauces aisle, gathering boxes and bottles. After a few more aisles, you realize that it’s nearing when you promised you’d pick your brother up from the arcade and you palm your face. “Shit..”

“What’s up?” and if that husky voice, the warmth of his breath against your ear don’t have you clenching your legs all over again… You laugh softly. “I gotta make a detour on the way back to your house. Told my brother I’d pick him up from the arcade again.” you admit, sheepish. Steve smiles and nods. “He doesn’t like me a lot, does he?”

“Dustin just has to like.. Get used to you.” your sentence trails off and you’re wondering if you’ve just said it all wrong or if it sounded the way it did in your head upon hearing the words leave your mouth -to him. “People, I mean. He has to get used to new people.”

Steve chuckles quietly. That stupid little sliver of hope he keeps battling down grows just a little more. It’s probably the sole reason he feels brave enough to mumble next, “You were fine before. Do I make you nervous or somethin?”

“Nope.” you’re lying, of course. Well, not really. It’s not so much him as what you’re fast starting to come to terms with as far as the way you feel about him. But he doesn’t need to know that, not now, not ever. Because why would he, King of Hawkins High, settle for you when he could probably have anybody he wanted with zero effort involved.

“Liar.” Steve mutters against your ear as you wheel the cart to an open checkout line and start to pile the food onto the conveyor belt to get rung up as best as you can. You laugh softly, meeting his gaze when he holds out a brick of cheese to you. You take it and stick out your tongue. “I’m not.”

“Mhm. Your entire face is as red as the tomatoes you just put up.” pretty brown eyes dance over you as he stands just a little taller and you tilt your head to stare up at him while gulping down yet another lump in your throat.

“Okay, fine. Maybe a little, but it’s not in a bad way or anything, alright? It’s just… Me. I’m a little awkward if you haven’t noticed, Steve. It’s not so much you as it is me.” you go quiet because you were rambling and now, oh god.. Now you’re blushing so much worse and your shoes have suddenly become the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life. Until he reaches out, tilting your chin so you have to look at him. You laugh, sheepish.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Steve chuckles to himself quietly because this whole thing is making him realize that yes, he really does need to do something.

The sooner the better.

– ( picking Dustin up from the arcade )

“Your sister is here. Steve is driving her car, too.” Mike informs Dustin and Dustin shakes his head and laughs. “Nobody drives her car but her.”

“Mike’s not wrong.” Will turns away from the door of the arcade, “Steve Harrington is driving her car.”

Dustin grumbles to himself. Mike nudges him. “That’s one of the signs, man. I’m telling you, she likes him.”

“So? Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I mean, he seemed okay when he was talking to us outside that afternoon.”

Mike rolls his eyes.

Dustin rolls his eyes. Mike takes forever to warm up to new people and so far, the only exception to that rule is standing to the right of him and her name is Eleven. Lucas speaks up with a laugh. “If he’s always around when she’s doing clumsy stuff, maybe it’s a good thing. He’s not that bad, Mike.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I need to get Eleven home now. I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow, right?” Mike asks as he and Eleven start to walk over to the door, stopping halfway to look back.

“Same place we always meet up.” Lucas answers. Will nods in agreement. Will spots Jonathan and Nancy sitting in Jonathan’s car, waiting to pick him up. “Jonathan is here. Just a heads up, Nance is with him..” Will goes quiet, gazing out the door in mild concern because he really doesn’t want any problems.

He’s relieved when he sees that his brother and Nancy are still in his brother’s car and you and Steve are still in your Trans Am two cars in front of it. “I’ll probably be late in the morning, I think Jonathan is picking up Nancy too.” he tells them before saying a final goodbye and as he’s going out the door, Dustin sees Gia catch up to him.

“The hell is she up to?” Dustin wonders to himself as Lucas nudges him. “Whatever it is, Will’s got some serious deer in the headlight eyes right now. Just don’t worry about it, man. Y’know how Gia is. She’ll be mad and pout for a while but she always starts talking to you again.”

“I can’t believe my first impulse when she was going to kiss me was to squeak and run like an idiot.” Dustin grumbles, shaking his head. “I panicked, you know how she is! One minute we’re talking and I’m showing her that new ham radio and the next, she’s leaning against me and looking up at me funny.”

Lucas snickers and Max shakes her head. “She likes you, idiot.”

“Yeah, alright, okay. I get that but she could be a little more.. Subtle.” but then Dustin stops to think. Subtlety is not Gia’s forte, the same is it isn’t her older sister’s forte.

Will rushes out the door and Lucas glances at Max. “You should go see if Billys’ waitin.”

“I really don’t want to.” Max grumbles, pouting up at him. Lucas laughs. “C’mon, I’ll walk to the door too, okay?”

Max nods.

Dustin grabs his leftover tickets and he’s about to pocket them when he happens to look up on the top shelf and see a leopard.

Gia likes leopard anything.

Loves it.

Has a leopard print jacket that’s real soft. Big leopard print hoops she wears all the time. Dustin clears his throat and gets Keith’s attention. “Hey, that leopard. It’s really 100 points, right?”

Keith takes down the stuffed animal and looks, scoffing. “Try adding another zero, kid.”

A throat clears from behind him. Dustin turns to find Steve standing there, chuckling. “No way in hell that leopard is 1000 points, Keith. Just give it to the kid. C’mon, man. It’s probably for his sister or some girl. Do you really want to stand in the way of him giving a gift?”

“1000 tickets.”

“How about 100 tickets and,” Steve digs around in his pocket. “Fifty bucks?”

Keith grumbles and shoves the leopard at Dustin and Dustin gives Steve Harrington a grateful smile. Steve chuckles and shrugs it off.

“Who were you giving it to?” Steve asks, waiting on an answer. Dustin spots Gia over by the dartboard and nudges Steve to get his attention. “Her. I kind of messed up earlier this week…” Dustin trailed off. Steve gazed at the little brunette in bell bottoms, a fuzzy leopard jacket and a Led Zeppelin shirt as she suck popped a gum bubble and he laughed quietly. “Go on and give it to her. We’ve gotta get going.”

Dustin shuffles over and taps Gia on her shoulder. But she’s got the headphones to her Walkman on, so he slips one off of her ear. “Hey.”

Gia turns to look at him and she is pouting, but then he pulls the leopard from behind his back. “T-there. I gotta go. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It’s okay, Dusty.” she wanted to say it to his face but as habit, he’s bolted before she can even get the words out. She grins and giggles, holding the stuffed leopard against her tight.

“We’ll name you Dusty.”

Outside in the car, you’re flipping through the radio, until you hear a Metallica song playing faintly and you stop on the station. You’ve just started to drum your hand against the dash and bang your head a little when Steve and Dustin appear out of nowhere, both of them snickering at you. You frown at both of them and get out so Dustin can climb into the backseat.

“What were you doing, Dustin?”

“I uh.. Tried to win Gia something, okay?”

You laughed and reached back, fluffing his hair. “Hey. Knock it off.” he grumbles. Then he nods to Steve. “He’s driving diablo. You never let anyone drive Diablo.”

Your mouth opens and closes with your cheeks burning hot. “Untrue! Mom did!”

“Yeah and immediately said she was never going to again. Your car is like the one in that Stephen King book, sis.”

“Yeah? Well he’s behaved just fine for Steve.”

“You named your car?” Steve is trying not to die laughing as he pulls away from the arcade. “And why diablo, huh?”

“Because… I helped rebuild the motor this summer and when it was finished finally, I took it out for a drive and immediately had to fix the transmission too.. I was pissed, it was two am when my uncle and I finished that and I was high as shit. It seemed like a good idea at the time… Tell me your BMW isn’t named, Steve…”

“Well no..” Steve scoffs.

“Bullshit.” Dustin insists.

“Okay, alright. Baby girl.”

“Seriously? Baby girl? And you’re giving me shit about choosing to name my car diablo, Harrington?” you sull up and cross your arms, shaking your head as you laugh it off.

“Diablo.” Steve snorts, shaking his head as he turns at the corner. “Are we taking you home or do you wanna come to my place, kid?”

Dustin mulls it over.

You glance back at him, waiting. “It’s completely fine, Dustin. I mean, Mom is going to be gone most of the night again, kid… I can make something for you to eat.”

“We went across to the diner. If you don’t mind..” Dustin trails off and grins. “Screw it. I’ll come with you guys.”

You smile and seeing you smile makes Steve smile to himself when he glances over to see you.

“So you lose your reading glasses and name vehicles when you’re high. What else do you do?” Steve asks, mostly in teasing. Dustin laughs. “She sits outside in that big tree next to her window. I keep sayin it’s a miracle she hasn’t got the giggles and fallen out yet. Oh and one time, she made macaroni at three in the morning and fucking dragged me out of bed to eat it.”

“It was good though!”

“I mean, it was still three am, gremlin.”

“Ah fuck you both.” you stick your tongue out and pretend to pout about them making fun of you.

“You got my pudding cups, right?” Dustin asks.

“Duh.” you grin. “I promised, did I not?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you’d be preoccupied and forget.”

You flip him off.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x henderson!fem reader #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader imagine

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sarah-dipitous · 11 months

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 148

The Reichenbach Fall

“The Reichenbach Fall”

Plot Description: Moriarty hatches a mad scheme to turn the whole city against Sherlock.

Oh, Jawnnnnnnnn. Glad you went back to therapy over it though

Ok yes. He’s been ungrateful with his other tokens of gratitude, but to humiliate the man by making him wear the deer stalker cap after he’s just brought you interpol’s most wanted? Come on…

It’s an EAR hat, Jawn

The “confirmed bachelor” lines were no accident and just blatant queer baiting.

Jimmmmm!! Jim my love

I…made this scene a VERY large part of my personality for TOO LONG. Now I’m just gonna sit back and enjoy watching this man bring a country to its knees (this part of The Thieving Magpie was my alarm for years, and I maintain that I was correct to have it. It’s way better than what I have now)

Who’s doing it like him, I ask you

Wiggling, squirming. Oh man. I had THIS on playlists too (the song right before Jim’s trial…when I say my WHOLE PERSONALITY…stayin alive was also my ringtone. Would you believe I’m divulging this lore SOBER?? Because I am)

Do not be yourself in this trial, Sherls, omg…

There’s a weird nostalgic pang of “god I wish that was me” when he asks the one courtroom worker (truly, I don’t know her job title) to slip her hand into his pocket. Maybe it’s just the Irish accent. It’s just for gum but he’s so slutty about it

I can’t look at this actress without thinking of her as Jen from the IT Crowd. She can’t be anything else in my mind. She’s forever Jen doing a bit in a costume in different places (this is going to take forever to watch if i keep pausing like this)

The Sheriarty is jumping out right now. You don’t describe someone you know is definitely listening and watching you as “a spider, a spider at the center of a web. A criminal web with a thousand threads, and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances.” YOU ARE LOOKING INTO HIS EYES AT HIS TRIAL AS YOU SAY THAT ABOUT HIM. Were I a consulting criminal, I would be so flattered by that description

Oh god…don’t make the jury hate you. Yeah. Of course he finds it impossible to not show off

This tea scene omgggg when he…is it really breaking into 221b if Sherlock is expecting him??

Every once in a while, I do get the glimpses of how these three shows got lumped together. Jim telling Sherlock he’s boring because he’s on the side of the angels is definitely one of those things

He’s got the best little speeches “no such thing as a private bank account now, they’re all mine. No such thing as secrecy, I OWN secrecy. Nuclear codes? I could blow up nato in alphabetical order. In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king, and honey, you should seeee meeee in a crown” (did I do an embarrassing amount of that from memory? maybe so)

Oh shit…i forgot the fairy tale stuff Moriarty puts them through…I mean, you gotta fill 90 minutes somehow (I want to sleep so badly…but I’m not even half way done)

I fucking hate how he treats Molly. She deserves better than him and this show. God…she thinks she doesn’t count…fuck. I hate it

Riiiight. He made it seem like the kidnapping was Sherlock’s doing so he could then solve it and he the hero. Just planting the seeds of doubt

Oh the Tale of Sir Boast-a-lot

When villains hijack the airwaves>>>>>> (my taste has not changed a bit in 10 years lmaooooo) I know in this case, he’s actually the cab driver, but he’ll do it later in the series. For now, we’ll just enjoy this nice little story Jim’s telling

You can’t outrun………oh, that was one of the assassins that moved onto baker street

It’s so weird that he’s doing exactly what Jim wants him to do…..

He’s unbelievably precious as Richard Brook. Insisting he’s a children’s storyteller, he’s on tv. It’s on dvd. You do almost forget that he’s a criminal mastermind for a second, except for that one moment when Kitty can’t see him and he has that look on his face as he glances at Sherlock

John and Mycroft have such a good dynamic. No matter if they’re on the same side, on opposing sides…it’s always a good scene when it’s just them

Uuuuggggghhhhhhhh, we’re starting with the roof of St Bart’s scene…will it be as good and heartbreaking as I remember?

Reader, it is. Jim’s lament about how easy it was to beat Sherlock, his best distraction for the monotony of staying alive. Oh, bby. Andrew Scott is such a good actor.

The fact that there was no code, that it was always a few of those threads that Jim made dance to send the world crashing down around them.

(I’m currently living in a world where his character didn’t get absolutely fucked over by the last episode of the series…………….so far(?))

I do like that Jim underestimates the importance of Molly. She still deserves better from everyone around her, but it’s nice that she’ll get SOME recognition in season 3

Pausing because I know what comes next and I don’t want it to…

Can we not just stay like this??? (Not if I want to make it a true full rewatch…)

I STAY a “here’s how [villain] can still live/be alive” girlie. I DO NOT CHANGE LMAO

Oh the phone call… “nobody could be that clever” “you could” I hate everything

Mycroffffffffft. Jawwwwwwwwn.

John at Sherlock’s grave is just…heart wrenching. Always and forever.

This is the best and highest rated episode of this show for GOOD REASON

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023 #we discover I’ve always been this way…#and my tastes have not changed in 10 years

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proserpinewrites · 1 year

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Six+ Sentences Not-Sunday

Tagged by @its-a-humanriot, sorry that I took so long to respond.

Tagging @ellietheewriter, @fuzzydreamin, and @mentatsandsunshine, but only if you have something you’d like to share.

---

One day I may finish this, which has the working title of Harkness’ No Good, Bad, Terrible Time in the Mojave. Set in the same universe as you who wish to conquer pain, after Harkness heads west away from the Institute’s reach once Zimmer is sent away from Rivet City.

---

The drink must have been drugged, that was his only logical conclusion in the aftermath. Getting tipsy took serious effort with the way he was built, and getting blackout drunk? Hell, he would have had to drink the whole saloon dry and then some. A Courser might have to mingle a little amongst the wastelanders to gather information for a search, so certain allowances were made in their programming and construction to make them blend in. He could get tipsy, but not properly drunk. Most chems and poisons moved through his body like water. He ate and drank like any human, he slept, but could go without all three of those things far longer than any human being in a pinch. After all, it wouldn’t do for the hunter to be hindered by simple physical needs whilst in pursuit of a rogue synth. In testing, Zimmer had found that removing the capacity for pain and the relief of said pain with medication made for a sub-par Courser with an unfortunate tendency to go mad. Med-X worked on his kind, but he had a terrifying tolerance for it.

That jackass in the checkered coat had probably dosed his drink expecting that it would be enough to kill his target. The shooting? Well, that was slapdash and spur of the moment. The move of a man trying to save face and the operation he was running in one fell swoop. At the very least, he was still drugged enough that the wounds he received barely hurt once he crawled out of that shallow grave. His memory went blank for a few blessed days after that. There were very few kindnesses offered to a synth by their maker. This must have been one of those. The elderly wasteland doctor probably expected more gratitude from someone he nursed back from the brink. Instead he got a suspicious glare, one word answers to all of his questions, and Harkness walking out the door with what few possessions that checkered jackass had left him after dumping him in the earth. This man had dug a bullet out of his brain, there was no telling just what he might have seen lurking in the shadows of the Institute’s handiwork. Harkness didn’t intend to find out either. He wasn’t actively bleeding, most of his faculties were intact, and he had a job to do. Well, two jobs now that someone had stolen his damned package.

He needed ammo and other supplies before he headed further into the desert, and someone had helpfully emptied his pockets of caps. So he was going to have to barter, because it was highly unlikely that anyone in this tiny shit-hole of a town had any work worth doing. Supplies, then info if he could get it, and most likely he was going to have to go without basic human amenities for a while. Not for the first time, he cursed Zimmer’s insistence on realism in his prototypes. Older coursers didn’t feel hunger, thirst, or exhaustion. He did, but at Father’s insistence none of those things would actually kill him. Fucking scientists. The general store owner stared wide eyed at him from the moment he stepped in the door, like a radstag caught short by a flashlight beam. This was precisely why he hated small towns. Anything and everything was news, spread around like Brahmin shit on a farm within minutes. That had to be it. Regardless, he didn’t have time for trifling bullshit.

“I need microfusion cells and 5.56 mm rounds.” He said, fishing through his pack for something worth trading. Not stimpacks, he’d need those. Someone had put some Med-X in with his things, probably the doctor who had patched him up. The shopkeeper hadn’t replied in a solid minute, so Harkness looked up at him with a frown.

“You’re the dead guy.” The man said, eyes wide as saucers.

“Do I look dead to you?”

The younger man looked, if anything, even more unsettled than he had before.

“You crawled out of a grave.” He pointed out, blinking owlishly.

Harkness sighed.

Jason Harkness was not a man inclined towards thievery or willful criminal activity. There had been a a time when he had had a deep well of patience to draw from when dealing with humans. That time was so far in his past now that it felt like those past life memories that religious folk and chem addicts babbled about. It would be simpler to pull a gun on the man to get what he needed, faster too. His fellows back at the Institute with their black leather trench coats and curtailed freedom would have chosen that route immediately. Hell, half the human population would too in a pinch. But something in him felt painfully wrong when he transgressed from the brand of morality that he had built for himself, like an alarm ringing directly in his ear for hours or days on end. A twinge in a soul he wasn’t sure that he even had, given his origins. So instead, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes for half a heartbeat like a friend had taught him to do years before. When the irritation passed, he opened them again.

“Listen, I just need to buy some ammo. I’ve gotta check in with my bosses in Primm, figure out who shot me. Can we trade or not?”

Five boxes of unneeded 10mm ammo and one of his few bandannas later, he had enough ammo to feel comfortable heading to Primm. Well, reasonably comfortable. He had a migraine the size of New California and had spent ten minutes nursing a nosebleed as Chet the shop-keep tallied up their trade, but he wasn’t dead yet. You had to take what victories you could in this life, after all.

#insp: harkness #tag meme #you who wish to conquer pain #harkness #a3-21 #fallout harkness

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wcmcink · 1 year

Text

how we are

it is through these binary positions that we navigate the real, that we find truth… the truth isn’t that one aspect is good & one aspect is bad, or so & so’s a hero & so & so’s a villain (the idea of the movie theatre is to walk out of it, not make the movie), the reality of these binary oppositions exists somewhere in the interstices. thats how they get you in the end— they make you aware of all these different options & demand that loyalty insists that you choose one & stick to that one. we have duality, we have more than duality, we have many different things living inside of us & we must honor that. we are plural. we must evacuate these things of all weighted definitions if we seek to come to terms with our life. the balance.

i woke up this morning with the presidents thesis on the ground…

i started my thesis on aesthetics & practice years ago & never finished it—

i read somewhere in an article “a naked exposure to the rage of the world…” maybe i am mad; but i ain’t stressing…i take too much prozak to be mad…i’m a big fan of western pharmacology…big narcotic titty… she’s a maniac, maniac, on the dance flooor… there is so much junk rattling around my brain… just for today i will try to resist the social programming of the system…don’t be an incel, get laid, be somebody…its not her fault she doesn’t like you bro…who hates you baby…you know what don’t make it up to me, make it up to someone else at this point…

i put some rites of spring on (not stravinsky), i don’t even know what happened to that t-shirt… i’m always losing my shit in my radical moves, could you imagine what it was like seeing guy picciotto dangle off the headboards in the school gymnasium screaming, “i, i, believe memory by memory no reflections on me…”? righteous bro.

i’ve been experimenting with new forms, new ideas, new poetry, capped my book, started a third one… busy…busy…busy… it approaches pop in a digital field… you know something on c-86 or the wedding present would sing about…

tales from the creator/ the third collect for peace

putting it down for bitches on the block the mommas its war, pig slime or whatever your nAme is jump that pussy wide open fuck a little bit get some i pose right & all the cup-cakes you can eat bro, have you ever seen frogs fight? i got this app on my phone 'cus... playing off i was taken away the sacrifices of god is a broken spirit more ministers than a deck of cards these are the wages of a broken heart prepare the dry lands & love sees through you real less than along & how to hide someone from memories the young lions on the bed... living with the man was never easy... watch my three & celebrate the days of the week dance in the fear & sleep in the madness/ it takes you

if you wanna know the truth i don’t believe in anything, most days i’m too busy in the politics of survival to believe anything. i have ideas sure, ideas i share & open to discussion; but beliefs are at odds with practice… if you believe something & are engaged in some kind of dogmatic ritual, you can’t change your practice when it no longer suits you, so to speak. change, change, change & change again until your expression has reached its final form (it never reaches finality, it continues… purposefully).

fear or hate thats all there is in the city. narrate yourself against it, remember your heart, remember your mind. the withered bones of a hateful man, perverted by fear…come on old man…i don’t want to understand, i don’t need to.

i hit a guy last night at a meeting. makes me think of an embrace lyric don’t “mistake hatred for courage…” where will i go now? i’m a changed man… i’m up early again 4:37, sometimes i get decent sleep but most days i’m awake, listening to the feed trail off into no-where in particular… you know “grilling on the feed again”… it sucks but its the way it is…something i wrote, something that got lost in the interstices…no more poems for the sky & i’m not better than making a few bucks…

when i would go out on the streets, lived is far fetched… i would make music, poems, & toss them around into nothing… it was my contribution to the universe; tell you the truth it would’ve been nice to see some dividends as opposed to the odd twenty bucks some citizen would throw my way…or being smoked out…i always called them poems for the sky…every-time i came in i would swear no more, no more talking to myself, no more grilling on the feed, no more push & pull, sanity, integration into a system that works for me… even anarchy is a system of ideas… not like i’m such a crusty, but anyway i digress…chimp & sneer, the battlegrounds…

i’m in favour of never learning your lesson…where life teaches no lessons, offers no wisdom but nature & the viccissitudes of…this isle is filled with noises…when the thought is in the action, i kind of believe “hey, you left it out bro…”

haven’t you seen anyone talk with their hands before? bullshit you’re throwing up…when even gentle words won’t do/

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homeofrodeoapplejack · 2 years

Note

Question for the author. I've seen it mentioned a few times in the past that many parts of Reins have changed over the process of writing it--from a different timing of Applejack's injury to a one-shot version of the story. Would you mind giving some details on how it's changed over time as you've gone through the process of planning and writing it?

OOC//

This is a fantastic question! Thanks for asking it, I’d love to talk about it. I hate myself for not having saved a draft of this bc I accidentally closed the app with about three paragraphs worth of an answer so now I have to rewrite it.

First things first, yup, this was supposed to be a one shot. I know I wanted to, at some point, have a rodeo AU story and I had also told my friend Red that I’d write a Strawbjack story. Reins was supposed to be both of those, but in a dumb one shot way. It was supposed to be a story where Applejack gets wracked up in her event and lands herself in the hospital. There, surprisingly, her rival Strawberry Sunshine would always show up (much to Applejack’s chagrin) to try to cheer her up. It was supposed to be a collection of moments that they share that shows them getting closer until finally they like kiss or something idk gay shit happens. But then “Applejack getting hurt” turned into “she ends up in a wheelchair” which turned into “maybe this needs more than one chapter” which eventually, after lots of planning and research and a lot of passion, turned into 70k words and counting of what is now Reins. Yup. A silly little hurt-comfort gay one-shot turned into this. I’m glad it got so out of hand, though.

As for the other changes, you mentioned the example of Applejack’s injury having been planned differently in terms of timing. That’s true! And it was gonna happen different, too. At first, I was planning for it to have been something that happened on Barley. I wanted her to have an accident with Barley that would land her in a wheelchair, and it was originally going to happen in the chapter Applejack Goes Splat. In the Reins doc that I write in, I have a big comment that I left for myself when I was writing that chapter. It’s in all-caps and just a very long run on sentence. The gist of it is, I wanted Applejack to get wasted in the bar (like she did) and then she’d have a fight with Strawberry (like she did, though fun fact I almost had them punch each other by which I mean I wrote “[…] and aj just like attacks her LOL”) and then she was supposed to go back to Brae’s barn.

Now here is where it gets really different. I had two things that could have happened. First thing, I almost had AJ try to drive herself home cause she was so mad and so stupid. That woulda ended exactly where you’d expect. But I wasn’t really into that idea, especially considering some other things that I’m not going to mention right now.

The other idea, and the idea I almost went with, was that they’d all go back to Brae’s as a group and Applejack would be so worked up and angry that she’d be unable to sleep. So what she usually does is she goes on a ride with Barley, but she’s still thinking about how she never finished running the barrels cause Barley threw her off. So instead, she drunkenly sets up her own barrels and decided she’s gonna finish her run one way or another. But, of course, drunk Applejack would make for a shitty course builder (the spacing is not very accurate) and a shitty rider (cause, like cars, you shouldn’t ride a horse while wasted). She has him run the course like three times, but none of those are something satisfying for her. So she pushes Barley. And she pushes him too hard and he slips under her (again) and instead of bucking her off, he kinda just falls over on top of her and like drags her a good ten feet til her foot finally falls out of the stirrups. Now, of course, Applejack is mostly just drunk and frustrated and thinks “what a perfect fucking thing to have just happened to me.” And she kind of laughs morbidly while the adrenaline is high. But then she tries to get up, and she can’t. And then the adrenaline goes away, and the shock causes her to sober up. And she realizes something is very very wrong. And, as I put in my note… “ADHJGDHGHKSF”.

What I went with was very different, obviously. She gets thrown into a metal fence in the middle of her saddle bronc event. She ends up doing the 8 seconds, but it’s later revealed she didn’t even score that well (fucking bummer eh?). The reason I changed it was because she now has very different takeaways from the experience. While at the root of it, the fact remains “Applejack blames herself because she was being stupid and reckless”, she can’t say “well I was drunk” now. That’s one of the things that’s different. The other is that now it isn’t Barley that did it, and that’s important in its own way. There’s some other crucial things that are different which is why I went with what I did, and it was definitely the right choice. Besides, then I couldn’t have written Game Day Day Two: The Final Day Of Game Day. God, I love making serious chapters have the silliest names. Anyway, pretty different, huh? Oh, what could have been.

And then there are other minor changes.

Fritter wasn’t supposed to be such a recurring character, but out of spite, I had her be a regular so the FIMFic admins had another reason to give her a character tag. In fact, I made a blog post about it on my main, and them my friend sent that to an admin and then Fritter finally got a character tag :).

Apple Bloom was supposed to be younger than she is.

Applejack was supposed to be a little more outgoing. And in character. Lol.

Strawberry Sunrise was supposed to be an actual mean spirited person mostly. At least to AJ.

Thistle was supposed to be the Apples’ new ranch hand, not someone she meets in the rehab centre. For various reasons, this was changed.

There’s a couple more, but I can’t share those. Anyway, the story itself (at least the specifics for this arc) is pretty much set in stone at this point but sometimes I do make minor changes while I’m writing if I feel it fits the flow of the story better. It’s a matter of “does what I’m writing fit what I’m trying to say, or would something different do it better?”

#ooc #mod post #ask

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queerenteen · 2 years

Text

Arcane reaction

episode 1-3 (Welcome to the Playground, Some Mysteries are Better Left Unsolved, The Base Violence Necessary for Change)

Started arcane, came for the sapphics but the gays and their crazy science hijinks intrigue me

The sapphics are still my favs though there's just something about a tragic romance that really appeals to me y'know

Man I can already tell that Vi and Powder and going to make me very sad over broken sisterhood

Like seriously how does the rift between them grow so much? They adore each other (looking back this hurts)

Damn that councilman with the gold flecks over her cheeks is so hot

I feel like you can tell a lot about me from how excited I am by the mad science in this show

Nothing gets you to spill your guts faster than people thinking you're an idiot when you know you're not

Damn is Vi going to inherit those badass gauntlets?

Come for the badass warrior sapphics, but also discover the mad scientist gays, best of both worlds

Now that I think about it, there are a couple of parallels between the four already, I wonder how it will pan out

,,, she's going to lose her father figure, isn't she?

The shift from trauma to science husbands left me reeling okay

It took him literally five minutes to go 'our dream' boy you're gay is showing

'Wait this isn't my bedroom--" fucking cackling at the implications of that

Yee they floaty

Holy shit Powder you really should have just stayed put

No no no not the father figure sacrificing everything including their most deeply held morals for their kid dammit it hasn't even been three episodes and I'm going to fucking sob

No please no please don't turn on each other no no no

I know you needed space but this a fucking villain origin story guys come on

Oh no even when she resents Powder she's still her little sister and she immediately goes to help her even when it would kill her

That's why Jinx exists, she thought that her sister abandoned her but she didn't, she loved her so much she had to be dragged away from her and I'm a fucking mess rn no one touch me

'She left me' No she didn't please someone stop this is like watching a car crash in slow motion

'She is not my sister anymore' That was a stab at the heart man

Jesus fuck the similarities between Silco and Vander and Jinx and Vi, god it hurts

Dammit Marcus if you hadn't dragged Vi away--

I am literally three episodes in and this show is giving me so many feelings what the fuck

,,, I'm going to binge this entire thing in like a day huh

episode 4: Happy Progress Day!

Jinx has a solid handle on her personal brand and I respect that

God no, more flashbacks to the past I couldn’t take it the first time and I still can’t

The intro is fucking fabulous

Jayce and Caitlyn’s sibling bond is precious

Science husbands really revolutionized the world huh

I get what the professor means, the gemstone is raw power and we already saw how badly it has affected people

I hate Caitlyn’s cap with a burning vendetta

The music score for this is amazing

No no what did they do to Vander’s bar?? It's nothing like it used to be

‘You should come with me. We’re partners.’ He’s so earnest about him, it’s so sweet.

That tiny floofball is adorable

Fickelty of fame

Is Viktor going to go up on stage? I feel like that’s where this is heading

Oh, he just, doesn’t unveil it. Wasn’t expecting that

Every time I hear a childish voice, I assume it’s Jinx behind it

Look who was right

Caitlyn. Muscles. Me gay

Wait isn’t Marcus the one who saved Vi? Where is she?

Oh, is she in the prison?

Welp, I wasn’t expecting straight up murder

I guess not straight up murder then but that is 100% Vi

WHY ARE THEY ALL SO HOT

I am loving the tattoos that Jinx and Vi have

Well that caught me in hook, line and sinker

episode 5: Everybody wants to be my Enemy

I appreciate the similarities and yet stark dissonance in Caitlyn and Jinx’s fighting styles

Like even how they learnt shooting is so completely different from each other

One is completely on the lawful side of the spectrum and the other is on completely the chaotic

I really liked Grayson’s character; really sad that we didn’t get to see more of her

What are you shooting for?

It’s going to come completely full-circle with that line, isn’t it?

I think Marcus feels like he’s following in Grayson’s footsteps and maintaining peace with the undercity but he’s really not

Viktor wants revolution to reach the undercity too, I wonder what happened to him there

Oh, shit his health is getting worse, how the fuck has no one else noticed

DID YOU NOT SEE THE BLOOD DUMBASS?

Vi parkouring over the rooftops and Caitlyn is just slowly scooting her way

Should Caitlyn really be wearing her enforcer uniform here?

‘Are you sure this is safe?’ ‘Of course not’ I’m cackling

Oof loved the parallels to Jinx and young Vi

Mel knows exactly how to manipulate people to get how she wants

A brothel? Wasn’t expecting that

YOU’RE HOT, CUPCAKE

You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this line

KABEDON

*presses her up against the wall* So man or woman?

So many platonic implications

Her smirk when she sees that Caitlyn chose woman. *they seem to be very good friends*

So, we went from science husbands to political couple. Really?

Blood being the key is very interesting

Silco definitely sees a lot of himself in Jinx

Oh, that was a clever screen cut between Mel and Viktor

WHAT NO VIKTOR

The prosthetics in the undercity remind me of upgraded automail

Vi…

‘I’m an excellent shot’

‘But you’re so sweet. Like a cupcake.’ *pterodactyl screeches*

‘She’s back’ ‘From the dead?’

Fuck yeah she’s back

episode 6: When These Walls Come Tumbling Down

We’re getting some Viktor backstory, I’m very curious to see what made him believe in magic and Jayce when no one else did

Rio looks like an axolotl

Viktor—

‘Viktor saved my life once’ I’m not crying, you are

‘He’s like my brother’ And there’s the sound of my ship drowning

Jinx is the embodiment of chaos, it’s great

Caitlyn: We can look for a safer way to get down—

Vi: *makes her way down a cliff with a stab wound*

Caitlyn: *no longer has an excuse*

Fuck you Sevika

Lmao Jinx just sneezed in her face

Oh, he faked Vi’s death; did not expect that

When Vi is hallucinating and seeing Powder and says 'I should never have left' and Caitlyn thinks that Vi is talking to her and is vulnerable in return?

When Caitlyn hugs him? That was really sweet

I mean, the whole reason Jayce is doing all of this is for Viktor, and no matter how you view their relationship, I hardly think that counts as greed or arrogance

I feel bad for the professor

'Easy easy easy' omfg that was so soft i think I'm going to cry

Caitlyn, honey, we need to improve on your people skills

caitlyn: *tries to shove the giant sign with all her weight and it doesn't move* vi: *cracks it in a single punch*

he was extracting something from rio? that is so fucked up

'i understand now' please viktor no--

wow i really wish caitlyn hadn't shown up

jinx and vi fighting back to back is something that can be so personal

jinx's quiet 'vi?' at the end broke me

episode 7: The Boy Saviour

Caitlyn screaming for Vi, they didn’t have to do that to me first thing on a Monday morning but here we are

EKKO—

‘I missed you little man’ I’m not crying, you are

‘Jayce will understand’ Boy, if he doesn’t imma gonna beat him up myself

‘First, I have to save Viktor’ Then get on it!

Mel is so hot, why is everyone in this so hot

Silco really cares for Jinx and I don’t know how to feel about that

Like the part where he says he thought Vi was Vander’s prodigy but Jinx surpasses anything he could have thought of? Impeccable

Ekko managed to build a safe place in the Lanes for kids like Vander had done for him—

Fuck, that mural is stunning

When someone says ‘partner’ I can never tell if they mean professionally or,,, y’know,,,

‘My hero’—

‘It’s inspired’ God can someone write the au where Viktor finds Jinx instead of Silco, that would great

,,, are they going to go from science husbands to vigilante duo?

‘It’s been real, Cupcake. Thanks for everything”—

Woah those firelight bombs were insane

No no Ekko please be okay

They just, keep touching each other’s faces so often, there is no heterosexual explanation for this

This showdown is fucking epic

Oh shit, he can’t do it because it’s Powder, no matter what he’s been telling Vi

Ekko please be okay—

episode 8: Oil and Water

Holy shit, Mel—

I feel so conflicted every time I see Silco and Jinx because on one hand, he absolutely adores her but on the other, well…

One thing that is really well done in this is how every character had a line that they weren’t willing to cross when they were younger but now, they will. First Viktor, now Mel

*GAY PANIC*

‘This is Vi’

Caitlyn telling her mother that she was wrong, that the entire council was wrong, was so powerful

It worked?? Good for you

Your *pause* friend

Silco’s panicked ‘Jinx!’ hurt, okay?

‘She won’t die Doctor. She can’t’ *sobs* I didn’t think going into this that I would have so many feelings about this but I really fucking do

‘I too, once had a daughter’

‘Jinx gets a whim, and suddenly his spine is jelly.’ You know what, it really fucking is

Vi is just, waiting for Caitlyn in her bed *such good friends*

‘No monster is going to get you when I’m here’ jfc how many times are you going to make me cry

*gentle face touch* so soft, I adore them

Caitlyn being the literal face of Jinx’s nightmares because she thinks she’s going to take Vi away from her—I came her for the gay, and now I’m losing my mind of traumatised sisters

The professor looks like a lost puppy wondering around the undercity like that

Omfg Mel’s mom is like, the antithesis of Mel

You know, most political discussions probably take place with clothes on

‘Oil and water’ I mean, there are emulsions (I’m just going to show myself out now)

No no why??

Viktor saving himself and running under the stars—I have many feels about this scene

Did,,, sky get vapourised?

Out of all the possibilities I thought of, Jayce and Vi teaming up was not one of them

GAUNTLETS

Really sticking to that hammer aesthetic huh?

DAMN VI

Oh fuck the kid

FUCKING HELL WHY THE FUCK IS THIS ENTIRE INDUSTRY USING KIDS FUCK YOU SILCO

In an abrupt tonal shift, we now have shower thoughts: gay edition

Why,,, is your fucking shower knob made of gold that is insane

Is Jinx in her shower, I mean, boundaries man

episode 9: The Monster You Created

Jayce, she was already ridiculously strong and now she has hextech gauntlets, you aren’t going to win

I get where Jayce is coming from, but Vi has a point. He had the privilege of never being part of the undercity. You can’t just walk away from it and hope it disappears

The designs of the undercity characters are so unique omg

Holy shit the Medardas are a fucking mess

Parallels!

‘In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good.’

‘I still believe in loyalty’ I did not expect that

Silco was ready to dismantle his entire fucking empire but not give up Jinx

Wait is that a statue of Vander?

‘Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?’ She was the vulnerable point for both Vander and Silco

‘That’s my girl’ Why must you play with my emotions like this??

‘But he didn’t make Jinx. You did.’ This episode just keeps throwing out the emotional sucker punches

‘You’re the reason I’m still alive’

I don’t even have words anymore

‘Are we still sisters?’ ‘Nothing is ever going to change that.’ *cries*

This scene gives family dinner from hell a new meaning

‘I’m not that crazy’ I mean, evidence says otherwise Jinx

Silco’s like, only redeeming quality is his love for Jinx; and he’s pretty fucking consistent about it

DID SHE JUST SHOOT SILCO TO SAVE VI

‘You’re perfect’ Just stab me in the heart, why don’t you?

YOU CAN’T END IT LIKE THAT WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL OF THEM THERE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PEACE AND—

I AM LOSING MY MIND

SERIOUSLY IT CAN’T END LIKE THAT

IS THERE AN END-CREDITS SCENE?

This has consumed me omfg

#arcane #arcane liveblog #this used to be a reblog thing but i decided it would work better as one post #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #jinx #jayvik #jayce tallis #mel medarda #silco #ekko #piltover's finest #silco and jinx #vi and powder

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

382 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #headboard #game suit

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zodiacrant · 3 years

Text

🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Summer Break(down)

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, weed, breeding/forced pregnancy.

This is dark!Lee Bodecker and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Based on this drabble request: Lee + interrogation + breeding/forced pregnancy + “you think your father would still love you if he knew?”+ Reader is mayor's daughter and get caught by Lee) smoking weed , so she is forced to give her purity to him + Reader is a sweet innocent girl that refuses Bodecker's advances, which makes him very angry so he forcefully gets her pregnant in a fucked up revenge plot to ruin her life and leave her as the scarlet letter in town. Requested by anon and @jaceyneedsabetterusername

You puffed the smoke and coughed it up in a painful cloud. Your throat burned as the acrid taste stained your tongue. You held out the burning joint to Darla and she chuckled as she watched you struggle. She took a log drag and blew rings in the air and handed it off to Mia.

“A whole year at college and you ain’t never tried it,” Darla teased, “what are ya doin’ up there?”

“Studying,” you rubbed your throat and refused another hit as your eyes watered, “you know how my daddy is.”

“Your daddy ain’t livin’ on campus, is he?” Mia trilled, “perfect little mayor’s daughter with her purity ring.”

“Shut up,” you growled, “if I got caught I’d be expelled, okay? I’m here now tryin’ it, aren’t I?”

“Ain’t ya?” Darla mocked, “is that how you talk now? So proper.”

“Christ, what’s gotten into you?” you waved away the smoke as she blew it in your face, “you miss me that much?”

“Nah,” she gave the stubby joint to Mia, “you just actin’ like you’re too good for us now.”

“How so? I’ve been nothing but nice--”

“Nice and sweet and perfect,” Darla muttered, “you running back to your dorm in the fall and I gotta wipe tables down as the eat-in.”

You were quite as her resent bit deep into you. It wasn’t like you made the decision yourself, your daddy would have skinned you if you hadn’t gone up to the all-girls academy. He held a prestigious office, he often reminded you, and you were just another merit on his record. You needed uphold his reputation as if it were your own.

Mia snorted dryly and offered you the joint again. Her face dropped as an arm reached around you, her reddened eyes glossy as the dwindling smoke was taken from her. You turned and backed away as the sheriff waved the joint in front of him and sniffed the air.

“I knew I smelled contraband,” his jaw ticked and his brow lifted as he eyed the three of you, “and you,” he pointed at you, “of all the girls in town, it had to be you?”

You looked at Darla and Mia as they blinked at the cop. Lee Boedecker was known for his cruel-streak and no-nonsense tolerance. You knew him as the pudgy, old man who tried to buy you a drink as you still wore your graduation cap. You remembered that day and the odd episode, how he scowled and stomped away, shaking your father’s hand on the way out of the diner.

“All this shit you’re bringin’ down from the city, huh?” he flicked the joint to the ground and blotted it out with his sole.

“N-no, I--” you looked back and forth between Mia and Darla.

“You two,” he pointed at them, “you go on.”

“What?” Mia quivered, “but--”

“You let me deal with her,” he waved her off as he gripped his gun belt, “just lookin’ out for the mayor’s daughter.”

The other girls peeked at you and slowly backed away. You watched them fearfully and as they disappeared around the front of the building, you turned back to the sheriff. He tutted as he shook his head and came closer.

“Won’t that be a scene? Tellin’ your daddy what I found you doin’,” he snickered.

“I… I wasn’t, I only--”

“I don’t care what you was only doin’,” he snorted, “I don’t… have to tell him but you’re gonna have to convince me not to.”

You blinked at him and frowned. You weren’t sure of his meaning and you surely didn’t want to find out. You backed away and he caught your arm.

“Now where’d you get that stuff?” he looked down at the crushed joint.

“It’s not mine,” you quavered, “I swear--”

“No?” he swung you against the wall and knocked the air out of you, “you sure you don’t know, now?”

You shook your head fearfully. You wouldn’t say it Darla who rolled it and lit it but you weren’t going to sell yourself down the river either. He slammed his hand above your shoulder and rested his other on his pistol as he loomed over you.

“Which one was it then? Pretty little college girl…” he purred, “a good girl, tell me which one of ‘em had it.”

You shook your head and pressed yourself to the wall, “I don’t know. Please, sheriff--”

“Please, sheriff,” he unholstered his gun and raised the muzzle. He steadied it against your chin and pushed your head up, “it was just a drink, sweetheart.”

“Sheriff, I--”

“You think you too good for me ‘cause your daddy,” he dragged the gun down your chest and along your stomach, “‘cause he sendin’ you away to read books?”

“No, no, what are you--”

He shushed you as he pushed the gun lower and hooked it under your skirt. He shoved his hand under your skirt and poked your vee with the metal nosebarrel

“I’d hate to ruin ya like that,” he sneered, “but I s’pose up at that fancy college, you got some good use.”

You shook your head and trembled as tears pricked and your nose tingled. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead. He wiggled the pistol between your thighs.

“No? You think your little act works on me?”

“I-- sheriff, please, I never--”

“Hmmm,” he hummed and inhaled the scent of your hair, “you ain’t no good girl.”

You sniffed as the tears rolled down your cheeks, your heart beating wildly as you waited for him to pull the trigger. He prodded more firmly and lowered his voice.

“How about I drive you back to your daddy’s and discuss this with him?”

Your eyes rounded as his blue ones caught them with a vicious gleam. You sobbed and shivered.

“If-- If you gotta--”

“Come on,” he pulled his gun away and yanked you off the wall.

He marched you down the alley and pushed you into his cruiser. He slammed the door and dropped into the front seat. He leaned to one side as he holstered his gun and clapped his hand over the wheel. He looked at you in the mirror.

“You sure you don’t wanna tell me the truth?” he asked.

“I did--”

“No,” he interrupted you, “you shut up if you ain’t gonna tell me straight.”

He started the car and rolled down the street. You shrunk into the seat afraid that someone might spot you through the window. He steered through the town and headed up the hill to your daddy’s house. You watched the trees around you as his thick breaths were laced with heated mutters.

He pulled off halfway up and idled between a pair of elms, “you can still keep my mouth shut, sweetheart.” You blinked at the mirror and he turned and stretched his arm over the back of the seat. He grinned at you and licked his lips. “What d’ya think your daddy will do?”

You hung your head. Your daddy would be so mad he’d lock you up for the rest of the summer, or worse, pull out his old switch. Your lip quivered and you sniffed as you wiped your cheeks with your cuffs.

“You want me to tell him?” Lee asked.

You peered up through your lashes at him and shook your head. He nodded and killed the engine. The car jolted as he got out and slammed his door. He opened the back and bent to look in on your with his hand on the roof.

“Right then, on your back,” he ordered.

“What--”

“If you don’t want me to tell him, you gotta keep me quiet, now lay down, sweetheart,” he reached to his belt and unbuckled it with one hand, “it’ll be quick, promise, then you can go back to bein’ a good girl.”

“Sheriff,” you kicked yourself across the seat and lunged for the other door.

He caught your ankle and dragged you back. He flipped you onto your back and crawled over you, his weight suffocating as he posted his knees between your legs.

“That’s the thing, you can keep me quiet or I can make you scream and tell your daddy anyway,” he warned as he fought with your flailing hands, “it all goes the same way, got it?”

You stilled and stared up at him. It was as if he’d slapped you. Your eyes overflowed and he brought his hand up to trace the streaks with his thumb.

“You’re so sweet,” he ran his hand down to your dress and groped your through the fabric, “mmm, so sweet.”

You tensed as he pushed his hand between your bodies and lifted himself as he pressed his fingers to your cunt. He tugged your skirt up impatiently and rubbed along the front of your underwear. You turned your head and swallowed a sob.

“I woulda been nice, taken you out proper,” he pushed his fingers under the cotton and you gasped as he caressed your folds, “you coulda been a sheriff’s wife, you coulda made your daddy proud.”

He poked his fingers inside you so roughly you whimpered. He pulled them in and out even as your body resisted. He sank to his knuckles and squeezed until you cried out.

“Now you can take my bastard home to him,” he snarled and tore his hand out of your knickers.

He unzipped his pants and wriggled as he shimmied them down. Still trapped beneath his weight, you stared at the back of the leather seat as your tears hovered on your lashes. He grunted as he ripped your panties down to your knees. He stretched the cotton between your legs as he bent them and rested on the fabric.

Bent beneath him, you closed your eyes as he felt around your cunt. He pushed his knees against your ass and lined up with your entrance. You clenched as he prodded and struggled to get his tip inside of you. He swore and leaned heavily on the elbow planted beside your head.

“Now, don’t make this harder than--” He bucked into you so hard you hollered. He smothered it with his hand and held himself deep inside of you, “you weren’t lyin’ about the boys, were you?”

You squeezed your eyes tight and he wiggled until you squirmed. He pulled back and rammed back into you roughly, groaning as he did. He waited and did it again, each thrust reverberated up your spine.

“You think your father would still love you if he knew?” he rasped, “huh, what you think everyone will say? That whore went up to the city and got a child on her.”

“P-p-please,” you whispered as you pushed on his chest, “it… hurts.”

“Oh, it gon’ hurt, sweetheart,” he growled, “but it didn’t have to.” He hissed as he kept his hips moving, “you made it this way.”

“I can’t-- don’t-- I can’t have a ba--”

“You gonna have my baby,” he sneered and hooked his arm under you, “you gonna carry me with you the rest of your life,” the car shook with his movement, “it was only a drink, sweetheart… one drink.”

👮👮👮

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