#she needs a cigarette after all that……omfg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slash-me-please · 1 year

Note

can I request you an alpha!thomas x omega!reader?♡

Omfg i wrote something!?

Volunteer Work

For a moment you had thought of going back home. The cold breeze during such a dead night had kept you on your toes, looking over your shoulder- looking for something. The walk to the Hewitts was just as dead as the night, nothing but old roads guiding you to their dilapidated mansion- you should've told your folks no, having been offered up as some kind of half-hearted help, as they couldn't find it in them themselves.

It all started when you and your mother stopped by an old gas station near your home, and she handed you a few crumbled dollars and told you to give it to Miss Luda-Mae at the counter. "Just take whatever she'll give you, we need to get home soon." She spoke to you, waving you away and out of the passengers seat. You stumbled out of the car, shutting the door behind you with an attitude your mother would ignore. With that you walked yourself over the dirt pathway, lifting your sundress slightly and ignoring the lingering looks from a gang of bikers. Then when you opened the door, it should've rang, but it seemed the bell had broke between now and the last time you had been here.

You released a sigh of disappointment when at least three of those bikers had been in line already, Luda-Mae arguing with one of them about the price of gas- although this had to be the only gas station in town, so there were no ongoing rates. The two of them ran about for a bit, before the man gave up and the line moved after what felt like five minutes. As expected, the door opened once more for your mother, a scowl on her face as it seemed you took too long. She walked over to you, as soon as it was your turn to talk to Miss Hewitt, and she huffed at you with an annoyed glance.

"Hi Miss Luda, how are you doing today?" You smiled, flattening out a five dollar bill against the ridge of the counter as you conversed. "Busy day, these bikers were raised with no respect. Makes 'em harder to deal with- insults to their mamas." She responds, looking over her glasses at you. "I completely understand, this one here always has something to say. This- that- my momma woulda' hit me." Your mother interjects, snatching the money out of your hands to give to Luda. "We ain't got much, just seven dollars on... One? Yeah, One." Luda nodded. "Thomas is like that now, he's getting older and-" her voice lowers, "All them ruts alone are getting to him." Your mom shakes her head in understanding, her eyes shifting to you and you laugh- pushing her away. "Actually, Y/N, if you're interested, he just built this little dresser for his room- and he's talkin' about painting it but he ain't patient enough to paint the darn thing. I think he would appreciate if you helped him out some time soon." She continues, looking over to your mother. "Of course she can! She'll be over tonight, ain't got nothing else to do."

And that's why you're walking over to the Hewitts after dark, speed-walking down the side of the road. After a while you reached their home and familiar smells welcomed you. Luda-Mae always smelled of cigarettes, She was a respectable beta woman, living with a shifty beta man. You'd only met Charlie a few times, he'd wink at you then and there, he smelt of rotting wood. There was something off about that man. Then there was-

"Thomas! I didn't see you there," You yelped, stumbling back a few steps as he emerged from behind a tree, axe in his hand, previously doing lawn work- probably. His eyes moved down your body, admiring your sundress, only to nod at you. "Your mother said you needed some help painting your dresser?" He nodded again, dropping the axe at his side and beginning to walk towards his house. When he makes it up the stairs and you don't follow, he turns to you and gestures up to the door- as if to say "let's go."

You follow him through his house and into his room, the white paint and brushes on the floor catching your attention. He looks almost ashamed of the outcome, strokes of paint coming from every direction and some of them hitting the wall- you release a breathy laugh. "I can fix it, don't worry." You tell him, but he still looks disappointed. "I wish I could build like you, must be a good quality- yknow- for the omegas 'round here." He shakes his head no immediately, watching as you sink to your knees and begin to brush the paint against the rough wood. "C'mon, last week I saw you talkin' to one of those bikers that are always hangin' out with Luda. She had those bright eyes and enthusiastic too- that's all an alpha could want." He shakes his head no again, this time seemingly annoyed and you drop the subject.

For a moment you two sit in peace, and even though the paint is strong his scent seeps into your skin, leaving you practically dizzy. You realize you shouldn't have done this in his room of all places as the heat builds and starts to soak your underwear. He practically tastes it too, and he rests his head back against the wall, hands balled into fists. "You like it?" You ask, setting the paintbrush down on the floor. His head snaps up, eyes wide until he realizes you're talking about the dresser and he nods. "Im only half done, but I'm tired, I'll finish it for you tomorrow?" And he agrees, walking over to help you off the floor.

When he grabs you, your head spins and you inhale more of his thick smell unintentionally. It makes you whimper in the heat of the moment and his eyes narrow at you. "Sorry- my knees are hurting." You stutter, pushing your hair away from your face. "Can you bring that outside? It's getting kinda congested in here." He nods again, and you're not sure he's even listening to you as you begin to say your goodbyes.

"I gotta get going but maybe I'll be back to finish this tomorrow?" And he nods once more, his arms opening a bit to invite you into a hug- one that you took eagerly. Thomas' arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, keeping your face pressed against his scent gland. And he held you there. Your self control was not apparent today, legs squeezing and rubbing together immediately. He stumbled forwards, trapping you against the wall and adjusting his arms around your waist so he could place a kiss against your bare shoulder. You buried your face further into his neck, a low whine on your tongue as you began to lick at the thin skin on his throat. "Alpha?" You purred. His fingers twitched against your back in a display of unwanted self control, one that had your omega whining once more.

His throat rumbled, he was pleased at your reactions- a heat spreading through you that he smelled and wanted. Thomas lifted you up, his strong arms carrying you over to his bed, just to lay you down in his heap of pillows. His sheets smelled of him- sweat, caramel and power, it make you keen. As you basked in his scent, he made his way with your clothes. Yanking down your sundress, he gifted unspoken praises to your body as he noted the lack of a bra. His hands made quick work of you, calloused hands rubbing against the soft, thinner skin of your nipples with an admiration your last lovers hadn't given you.

His scent had gotten stronger by the minute, seeping into your body and melting your brain into a puddle of mush. You couldn't help yourself but to pull the edge of your sundress up, exposing yourself to his greedy eyes. His grunts of approval music to your ears, even moreso when you pulled his unoccupied hand to your drooling pussy. He held a sharp breath within, dipping a finger into the heated hole he'd soon bury his knot inside. His left hand moved from your nipples to your throat, holding you down as his right began to thrust in and out of you, thumb rolling over your throbbing clit. "T-Thomas!" You moaned, wrapping your smaller hands around his forearm, leaving it covered in thin scratches- none deep enough to scar. His fingering began quicker, pulling you to a high end before you wanted- but your begging for his knot convinced him not. "Alpha! Please god!" Grinding against his hand, that would eventually have your end. With a loud whine, you came on his fingers, and he retracted. His mouth immediately moved to his belt, undoing the clasps and pulling his cock out and pulling your recovering body to the edge of his bed.

Pressing a kiss to your sweating forehead, he entered you fully. And soon he began to thrust inside of you, your walls singing happily, head craned to the side presenting an unmarked throat to him. Which he'd take your offer, listening to you worship his title as his canines punctured the vent of your skin, mark fresh and bleeding. Your arms wrapped around Thomas' chest as his thrusting sped up and you heard whispers of "Omega," under his breath as he filled you with his seed as you finished underneath him. He began to slow, but didn't stop there until you released a sleepy whine into his chest, eyes closing with a rumbling purr.

#slasher x reader #horror x reader #slasher x reader smut #smut #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x reader smut #leatherface x reader #leatherface x reader smut #leatherface

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smashtbh · 2 years

Text

Your Biggest Fan

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

req: “ Helloo okaay so this might sound really stupid but can i request a 'Billy x male reader' where the reader is a soccer player and his friends/family don't really believe in him so they never come to his games but he starts to see his crush Billy show up, more and more in his games, and after a game he actually goes and congratulates to the reader and its just really fluffy? I know its kinda cheese af so if you don't like it or just don't want to write it just ignore it!!! “ — @russainweed

as a soccer player, this is absolutely not stupid. also, i may have switched it around to billy having a crush on the reader and the reader slowly developing one for billy — but nonetheless i believe it has the same idea you were going for.

Portuguese translation done by the great @neturnn 🫶🏽

CW: swearing, reader is a badass soccer player 🤞🏽, billy isn’t an asshole, reader has unsupportive parents, but he does have an extremely supportive billy.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x M!reader.

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: my first request omfg i hope i did you justice ✊🏽

word count: 2k something.

(keep in mind that for the purpose of this fic, billy isn’t a racist piece of shit. thank you!)

“You really aren’t coming?” Y/N asks his mother — who for some goddamn reason — refuses to go to his games. She usually drops him, but she’s being an asshole at the moment.

“No, Y/N. I’m busy.” She replies with the most monotone voice as she stares at the TV.

Y/N huffs a humorless laugh. “You know what? Never mind.” He throws his bag over his shoulders, “Since you’re just sooooo busy, I’m gonna take the car.” He grabs the keys off the wall without waiting for a reply.

He wants to say he’ll be back before 7 but he knows she wouldn’t even notice if he came home at all.

He throws himself into the car, shoving his bag with his equipment on the passenger seat. He sighs and rests his head against the steering wheel for a moment — trying not to punch the window at the thought that nobody will be at his game again. He’s used to it by now, but it would be really nice if someone actually came and watched him play.

He drives onto the road, and blasts the radio. He’s bopping his head to some Metallica as he turns into the school. He parks and he sees some of his teammates waiting with their families before they need to start warming up.

He stays in the car for a second, looking around the crowd and spotting Billy fucking Hargrove. He’s only heard bad things about him — and Y/N is a bit worried as to why he’s there. He really hopes none of his teammates end up getting a black eye by the end of the night.

Y/N gets out, grabbing his bag and heading towards the field. His coach and some teammates are already at the bench, so he greets them accordingly.

“If you want, you can have your family sit over here beside the bench — they can see a lot better over here.” His coach says, gesturing to the area he’s talking about.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll let ‘em know.” Y/N mumbles as he puts on his cleats. He slides his shin guards into his thick socks and stands up. At this point he’s very close to kicking his coach in the nuts.

He’s not thinking about the fact that no one is there to watch him destroy this other team, he really isn’t. He doesn’t need his asshole of a mom or his useless dad to win the game.

Just as Y/N is getting into his position, he spots Billy again. He’s sitting on the hood of his Camaro, a cigarette in his mouth. He tries not to stare long, but he thinks Billy catches him because he sees a grin take over his face.

The whistle blows, and Y/N gets in the zone. When halftime rolls around, they’re up by 4 — the score being 6 - 2.

The game finishes and Hawkins’ High has won 8 - 2, Y/N scoring 6 of the goals. He talks with his team for a bit, then makes his way to the car.

Before getting in, he sees Billy. Who seems to be looking in his direction with a concentrated face. The weirdest part is, Billy hadn’t moved the whole game. Stayed sat atop his Camaro, and didn’t talk to anyone. Y/N doesn’t stay long though, he pulls out of the parking lot and heads back to his house.

Y/N has another game. That as usual his parents don’t want to go to.

He drives into the school again and parks, waiting in the car. He’s just chilling with the music and air conditioning on for a moment before he hears the familiar booming that is Billy’s Camaro.

Y/N tries to think of a reason as to why Billy would be here again. It doesn’t make any sense, because this really isn’t Billy’s crowd. A basketball game seems more fitting for him — since the soccer games have a quieter crowd, with no parties afterwards.

As Y/N gets out of the car, he realizes that Billy parked a lot closer than he thought he did. Y/N walks past Billy, flashing a small grin. It looks as if Billy was going to wave because he lifts his hand that isn’t holding his cigarette up — but he just moves to scratch at his chest.

While he’s on the field, he feels someone staring. He wants to say that it’s Billy, because god knows no one comes to watch for Y/N — but he really can’t pin point it because of how intense the game is.

But to no one’s surprise, Hawkins wins again. Y/N scoring 5 goals. He’s wiping his sweat as he walks to the car and is startled by a figure leaning against the driver’s side.

“You’re on my car.”

“I know that.”

Y/N sighs, he really doesn’t want any trouble. He’s just tired and he seriously wants to shower. “Look man, I don’t know what you want from me — “

“Who said I wanted anything?” Billy says, pushing himself off the car to walk towards to Y/N. “I just wanted to tell you that — “

“Did Greg do something again? I suggest you take that up with him and not me.” Y/N interrupts, adjusting his bag on his back.

Billy’s a lot closer now and he smiles and — woah this guy is a lot more attractive up close. “I’d understand the attitude if you guys lost, but you made that team eat your dust.”

Did Billy Hargrove just compliment him?

“I don’t think I follow..”

Billy laughs at that. “Didn’t think Mr. MVP would be so humble.” He throws an arm over Y/N’s shoulder, despite how sweaty he must be. “I’m tryna’ say that you killed it out there, dude.”

Y/N has to fight a smile at that. Despite being known at school for playing on the soccer team, nobody’s taken the time to actually go and tell him that he did a good job. “Thanks. Thank you. I tried.”

Billy pats Y/N’s back, moving to walk away. “Keep up the good work.”

“Wait — “ Y/N says without thinking and Billy turns around, “Did you come here for me?” There’s a pause. “Last time you were here you didn’t talk to anyone.”

“You watching me, creep?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

With the field lights glaring down on them, Y/N can see the red tint that comes up to Billy’s face. “Don’t let it get to your head, punk.” He smiles and struts towards his stupid Camaro.

Y/N smiles to himself. Maybe this Billy Hargrove isn’t so bad after all.

The next couple games go by quickly, faceless teams losing — Y/N doesn’t remember much, other than after the games. He and Billy would lean against his car and talk for as long as it takes for the field lights to turn off, leaving them laughing in the dark.

On the night of the championship game, Y/N’s mom drops him instead of having him take the car because she has a late meeting.

Y/N steps out of the car, and just as he does — hears that damn Camaro, he hates to admit that it’s become music to his ears.

Billy pulls into the parking spot while Y/N waits for him to get down. “Mommy dropped you today?” He says jokingly.

Y/N lightly punches his shoulder and hands him his bag to hold. He’s already put on all of his equipment, but he’s worried that it’ll rain tonight — he doesn’t want his bag to get soaked.

“Good luck, hot stuff. Not that you’ll need it.” Billy says and Y/N can’t help but mentally shut down at that for a minute, then he decides to fire back.

“If we win, you gotta drive me home.” Y/N winks, knowing damn well what the outcome of the game is going to be.

Billy laughs and the tips of his ears turn red. “Yeah — sure. Whatever.”

The game is nerve wracking for both teams, but Hawkins’ has the lead in the first half. Y/N sends glances towards Billy, smiling at him every once in a while.

Towards the second half though, the opposing team catches up. The score is 4 - 4, Y/N having made 2 of the goals. There’s about 10 minutes on the clock left, and it starts to rain, hard.

It’s a lot harder to play with the weather like this. The two teams struggle to get the ball under control. Despite this, Y/N is able to dribble the ball. He’s close to the goal and is about to shoot before some dude comes and rams into him — effectively tripping him in the penalty box.

There’s an “ooooo” that is heard through the hard rain and the ref blows the whistle. Y/N gets up, and realizes that it’s time for him to take the penalty kick.

He lines up the ball with the dot, as the goalie bends his knees and gets into his position. The ref tells the team that this is the last play.

Y/N hops up and down for a bit, trying to conjure the energy he needs for this shot. The goalie seems nervous, especially because of the rain, but it’s bad for both of them.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out, a running start, a well calculated kick — and Hawkins’ High are the champs.

The ref blows the whistle and there’s screaming, car horns beeping, and banging from the bleachers. Y/N drowns everything out as his team hoists him up in the air.

A little later, the rain has calmed down. Y/N walks towards the direction of Billy’s car, but nearly shits himself when it isn’t there.

He jogs a little bit to make sure it really isn’t, when suddenly a loud honk came from behind him. “Jesus fuck — “ Y/N turns around and flips the bird aggressively at Billy.

“Where’d you go?” Y/N asks as he opens the passenger side door.

“To find someone.” Billy says nonchalantly. He isn’t as cheery as he normally would be — Y/N thought he would be happy that his team won.

Y/N stares at him. “Who?”

“Number twenty-six.” Billy mumbles around a cigarette, bringing the lighter to his lips. Y/N stares for a bit longer before it clicks.

“You — dude, did you beat him up?” Y/N looks around for the other team, sighing when he sees that they’ve already left. “Falling is part of the game, Billy.”

Billy turns to look at him. “He tackled you.” He takes a long puff from the cigarette. “I just told him to fuck off, I didn’t touch ‘em.”

Y/N groans at that, rolling his eyes. “I don’t need your protection, honey.” He pulls his jersey over his head, dumping it on top of the Camaro.

Billy glances towards him and turns into a tomato. “Did — did you bring extra clothes?”

“No,” Y/N shakes the rain out of his hair, “Just thought I’d go shirtless.”

It looks as if Billy can’t decide whether or not to look in Y/N’s direction. Glancing at him constantly, but also trying to distract himself with the cigarette.

Y/N laughs. “C’mon, take me home.”

The car ride there was energetic. Filled with laughter and praise. “I mean seriously — you should play for a national team or something.”

“I would but uh — my parents don’t care much for my soccer shit.” Y/N stares out the window. “No biggie though, I’m cool with just playing for Hawkins.”

Billy slows the car down a bit, which is surprising considering he’s broken at least 30 street laws in the span of 6 minutes. “You mean, they don’t care for your talent?”

Y/N shrugs. “Nah.” He turns to Billy, “Like I said though, I don’t really care.”

“Is that why I never see them at your games?”

“What?”

“Your parents.”

Y/N stares ahead of them. “Yeah. They’re busy.”

The car goes quiet. Billy’s going 15 in a 30. “You know,” Billy turns to him. “I think that you’re an amazing player and — person.”

“Yeah?” Y/N grins, “You think so?”

Billy slows to a stop. “Y/N, you’re — cool as hell.” Y/N starts laughing. “No — I’m serious, like — you’re the shit.”

Billy turns to him fully. “I’m sorry that your parents are fucking dickheads, and can’t see how talented, amazing, and handsom — awesome, their kid is.”

Y/N sighs a bit. “Thank you, Billy.” He looks out the window once more. “My house is actually right here.”

He opens the door and hops out, cringing at the wet seat. “Sorry — didn’t realize how sweaty I was.”

Billy glances at it and waves a hand. “It’s fine.” He gestures to Y/N’s body, “It was worth the view.”

Y/N laughs and grabs his bag. “You’re adorable, Hargrove.” He closes the door.

The window rolls down, “I’ll see you later, champ.” Billy blows him a kiss, and Y/N catches it and throws it in the trash bin on the lawn.

Billy fakes an offended look and flips him the bird as he speeds off.

Guess Y/N’s got himself a fan.

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #male reader #gay billy hargrove

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hades-in-bloom · 10 months

Text

A Swim | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

I somehow had it on repeat while writing *cracks up*

summary: Colorado wasn’t the only self-indulgent vacation that Kennedy took before he found a road to sobriety. When the world is the oyster, Bangkok is the pearl.

content: cheesy af (help me), older Leon, drunkard Leon, thus mentions of alcoholism; mentions of/implied thoughts of suicide, kinda light angst (obviously); Hunnigan with an agenda; gn! and a tad bossy reader with Interpol background; heavy sexual tension, swearing

author’s note: that was unplanned and uncalled for, proceed at your own risk. Also, I need to scream about the man in Death Island. Omfg.

if you’re a minor, go away <3

love y’all, you beautiful souls

xoxo

***

Ingrid called you in the middle of the night, reassuring that only you could track down the infamous Leon S. Kennedy. You breathed out a sleepy “…Why?” and got a response that you could barely consider an explanation. He took a vacation, Hunnigan said. He seemed to disappear, and she needed him back immediately. You could not see her face, but you could hear a pretty please in her voice.

“I am not even under D.S.O. command.” You groaned lightly. You have been working with several D.S.O. agents for the past couple of years, particularly with agent Kennedy, but you have been directly reporting to Interpol instead.

“I have already cleared you for this assignment,” Ingrid confessed. You stayed silent for a moment and then sighed. There wasn’t anything that Hunnigan could not do, after all. “He trusts you.”

As for you, Leon Kennedy trusted no one, but you wouldn’t get into this argument.

“Where was he seen last time?” You pulled yourself out of bed and walked towards the pair of jeans that were casually hanging from the only chair present in your room.

“Ingrid?” You called again when radio silence was your answer.

“We assume he is Bangkok, Thailand, since two days ago.” You sensed a touch of guilt in Hunnigan’s voice. “You have already been booked for a commercial flight.”

It took your tired brain a bit of time to do the math.

“Isn’t it like fifteen hours or so from JFK?” You inquired, genuinely concerned.

“Twenty hours,” Ingrid confirmed mercilessly. “You need to be at the airport within an hour.”

Rushing to your wardrobe, you devotedly cursed Kennedy to the high heavens.

***

Bangkok was hot. Your shirt became almost transparent in minutes and now felt like a second skin clinging to your body. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like any of it. Not until you find the son of a bitch, Kennedy, who went rogue due to no particular reason and made a decision to vacay on the other side of the planet Earth.

The taxi driver that you hailed on the street was painfully chatty, thanks to your creeping headache, but your suffering was about to end when your cab stopped in the middle of the road abruptly.

“That’s the place.” The driver told you in broken English, and you swiftly left the creaking vehicle that smelled of cheap cigarettes and incense.

The place was a dimly lit bar with little to no likable people inside. Damned Leon S. Kennedy was occupying one of the bar stools but was also spearheading the list of human beings that you felt no sympathy for at this particular moment.

He was drunk. You knew he appreciated his liquor, but you had never seen him even close to the condition he was in right now.

You briefly messaged Hunnigan that you have just found her “runaway bride” before shortening the distance to Leon’s chair. He made no effort to check out the newcomer, and you took it to your advantage.

“Surprise, you asshole.” You greeted him coldly. The agent blinked; you could see gears turn inside his intoxicated head while he was trying to identify you.

Finally, he grunted.

“The heck are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse. You blamed it all on some cheap brandy in his whiskey glass. “I am on vacation.”

“Your vacation is my vacation now, too, after Hunnigan made me fly twenty fuckin’ hours to find you.” You grimaced and took over the closest seat to Leon. He looked annoyed. You didn’t care.

“You look like you’ve had enough.” You concluded, having his drinking spree in mind.

He let out a drunken laugh that was devoid of joy. “What’s it to you if I have? I can take care of myself.” He scoffed and slurred his words a little.

A stubborn dumbass—you let out a heavy, irritated sigh. You felt your heat-infused headache intensifying.

“You cannot.” You gave him an unimpressed look. “At least I don’t consider it self-care when one drinks himself to death.” That was harsh, you thought. But right now he probably deserved it.

Your comment seemed to strike a chord with him.

“I told you I can take care of myself!” He raised his voice slightly, and some of the patrons looked over.

Jesus Christ. You wouldn’t consider yourself religious, though.

“How are you planning to take care of yourself?” You raised your voice slightly, too, giving him an unappreciative look. Suddenly, you quietly snapped. “I don’t know what you are thinking, Kennedy, but this is not a vacation. That’s a bloody suicide waiting to happen.”

You have seen alcoholics in your line of work before, and it didn’t matter what Leon thought of himself in this situation – but he looked like one.

To your surprise, he went silent, visibly taken aback. He blinked; there was a noticeable glimmer of confusion in Leon’s eyes.

Did not he realize that he was hurting himself this much?

“I’m fine…” Kennedy groaned, although his denial was slowly crumbling. “I’ll be fine…”

You could see he fought it – the alcohol numbed his feelings, but now, with a glimpse of sanity, they seemed to return to him in droves.

You watched him in awkward silence while he was babysitting his demons until he looked at you, both headstrong…

… and embarrassed?

“I swear, it would be better if Hunnigan sent some D.S.O. shrink, not you.” He grunted in disappointment, unwillingly sobering up. This vacation was over.

“Ingrid is worried about you.” You muttered, then scoffed. “And I’m your witness, Leon – you haven’t been fine in years. I know you long enough.”

He didn’t have to like what you said, but you thought he needed to hear this.

Leon gave you a dirty look. How could you see through him? The rest was tiptoeing around his alcoholism for ages, nurturing his drunken arrogance. You might not be nice, but what the others did was not kind.

The man cursed and fumblingly pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his Hawaiian-looking shorts; these made you stifle a chuckle. The image of invincible Leon S. Kennedy looking like this would be imprinted into your brain forever and ever.

He threw a few – too many – bills in local currency on the table and got himself up heavily from the bar stool. Now he towered over you grumpily. “What a buzzkill you are,” he mumbled, and you could smell that cheap brandy you noticed before on his breath.

You smirked, showing no remorse. “Let’s get you a cab, handsome.”

***

He stayed in one of the hotels right at the beach, and, stepping out of the taxi, you froze for a second, enjoying the view.

“That's one thing people got right about Thailand; it's beautiful here.” Leon hummed, approaching you from behind.

You still had your gaze fixed on the curves of the twilight bay when Kennedy spoke again. “You're right... I haven't been fine in years.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, making no attempts to hide your flabbergasted facial expression. Was this man admitting that he was wrong?..

Then pigs were about to start flying.

But Leon kept going.

“Do you want to know what's been happening in my head... How badly have things affected me?”

Was he even drunker than you thought?

“Yes, you dumbass.” You replied softly. Whether it was Ingrid’s push or not, Hunnigan was not the only one who cared about Leon to follow him around the globe.

The man walked towards the seashore, letting the waves lick his feet.

“My mind is so chaotic these days,” Kennedy admitted; his voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes, I even lose sleep at night because of the nightmares of...”

Leon hesitated. You didn’t nudge, afraid of ruining his mood. He has already called you a buzzkill once.

At last, he sighed. Why was it so hard to talk about it?

“I made promises I couldn’t keep; that’s all you need to know.” Leon summed it up without looking at you. Did he really want to talk about it? You followed his tired, unfocused gaze, staring at the horizon.

“How about a swim?” Your suggestion came out of nowhere. You tilted your head, waiting for his response, and he glanced at you, confused, for the first time in the past moments.

Leon then let out a laugh in a drunken manner. “What? Now? In my state? I'll sink straight to the bottom.”

“You decided to vacation in Thailand – and not to swim?” You rolled your eyes at him jokingly and pulled him by his wrist. “Come on, Kennedy.” You begged. You might have been a tad aggressive back then, in the bar, but now…

You thought he deserved a break.

Leon groaned slightly but didn’t fight it, tagging along behind you. He felt a little dizzy; the cheapness of the served brandy was finally getting to him. Despite it all, he scoffed, his tone friendlier than before. “You are not going to let me forget that I am on vacation here, are you?”

You smirked, stepping into the gentle ocean waters and shamelessly ignoring his question. “We are not going to go far. I won’t let you drown, Kennedy.”

He smirked. “I trust you.” Oh, did he? Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine when you recalled Hannigan’s words. Why were you special?

You submerged in the water further with no regard to your clothes, now soaking wet. Leon, to your amusement, did the same.

“That should help with your hangover tomorrow.” You gave him a dirty look, and he huffed out a laugh.

“What's with all the dirty looks you've been giving me all day? You think I deserve it?”

“Oh, you deserve all of them.” You snorted - right before he pulled you by the waist, making you scoff out of surprise. You froze, barely reaching his chin covered with two-day stubble.

“You are drunk, Kennedy.” You reminded him softly, still making no attempts to leave his embrace. His intense gaze was trained on you.

“I'm not that drunk,” he scoffed, a grin forming on his lips. What the heck was going on?

“Oh, you are that drunk, Kennedy.” You smirked at him.

And then you felt it; his lips crashed into yours. Unconsciously, your hand darted to his hair, playing with the dirty blonde strands. A soft moan escaped your lips.

What were you thinking? It felt so wrong; you have been partners for years, and you didn’t like to mix work and pleasure. And if he had an excuse, let alone an awful one, to kiss you, you had none.

It felt so good, though.

Leon pulled away from your lips only when your lungs started to burn with a lack of air. His grin was too cheeky for your liking.

“You don't mind spending the night with me, do you?” The audacity.

You smirked. “I’ll spend a night with you when you sober up, handsome.” Otherwise, one of you might have regretted it – while him standing in front of you with wet hair and a soaked-up t-shirt made you hot and bothered. Damn, that man was fine. One way or another, at least.

“You should get to bed, Kennedy.” … And sleep through that hangover.

“Just one more…” He mumbled—one more taste of your lips. “... For today.”

Liar. So you whined into his lips softly when he kissed you again. And again.

Forcing yourself out of the water later, you looked at the boiling ocean; the waves crashed against each other as the sun set behind them. It took you all your willpower to let go of him this evening, and the only thought that brought you peace was that he was suffering at the loss of contact as much as you were.

***

You called him the following morning when you were making yourself a coffee.

“Hey.” Your lips curved into a smile. “How is your hangover, handsome?”

Leon, barely awake, first laughed, then groaned, and there was an audibly sound note of hangover in his voice, too.

“A dreadful headache... And I can still taste you on my lips, which doesn't help.” Your breath hitched. His comment about him tasting you stained your cheeks bright pink.

He yawned. “…I feel like crap.”

You mischievously bit your lip, although your tone was innocent. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

Leon, no doubt, knew precisely what would make him feel better right now.

#death island leon kennedy #vendetta leon kennedy #resident evil fanfiction #infinite darkness #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #leon drabble #leon fluff #older Leon #Leon S. Kennedy #Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #death island #re #imagine #reader insert #re4 remake #Spotify

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manicformunson · 2 years

Note

Omfg can you PLEASE do something where the reader is absolutely spent after a few round sim bed and wants to cockhold with Eddie??? Pls like this has been on my mind😩

shook me all night long

master list

pairing eddie munson x fem!reader

summary after a long night of bumping like rabbits, eddie is spent but reader can't help but need more

note i was so excited to write this you have no idEA also I suck at endings don't be mad

It happened almost everytime, everytime Y/N went with Eddie to watch his band at the Hideout; something about seeing him just so in his element made Y/N go absolutely mad with desire and she was on him the second he walked off stage.

They would usually always rushed to the van for a quickie before the band started putting their equipment up. Sometimes she couldn't even wait that long and they'd fuck in the bathroom.

It was honestly a little ridiculous how horny Y/N got, and tonight was so much worst because Eddie had decided to play shirtless. Needless to say Y/N was drooling the whole set, just waiting to just Eddie's bones -- which she did the second he was running up to her.

They fucked in the van, then fucked once they got to Eddie's trailer, and then in the shower and then one last time during a random movie he had put on. Eddie was absolutely fucked out, stretching his arm over Y/N's bare shoulders and grabbing his pack of cigarettes from the side table.

As he lit it, Y/N slid down between his legs. Eddie was used to this by now too, sometimes Y/N just liked having his dick in her mouth and who was he to deny her? Not to mention it was so cute? Eddie petted her head and spread his legs a little wider so she could be comfortable.

When Y/N slid his dick in her mouth he hummed, breathing in the cigarette smoke -- tilting his head back and blowing it out his nose. It wasn't sexual anymore; sometimes Y/N just needed to feel in control and Eddie totally respected that. A lot of times she'd be down on him for almost an hour, or until she needed to be in his arms.

Eddie focused his attention back on the movie that was playing and massaging his fingers in Y/N's scalp. He really loved it too, it felt like such an inmate moment for both of them especially after they've had sex -- it was like aftercare for both of them.

"You okay baby?" He spoke softly, continuing to rub her scalp as he looked down at her. She hummed, sending shivers up his spine and nodded as best she could.

They stayed like that, peaceful silence until the ending movie credits rolled. "Come here." Eddie muttered tapping his cigarette out in the ashtray. He held out his arms, welcoming Y/N in his chest and kissing her forehead before tossing a blanket over their naked frames.

"You looked really good tonight, if you didn't already know." Y/N giggled, tracing her fingernail over one of his chest tattoos. Y/N look up at him and couldn't help but smile as he cupped her cheek. Eddie just smirked and kissed her.

Y/N broke it to yawn, all of the excitement had really tired her out. Eddie rubbed her shoulder, "If you're getting sleepy sweetheart then we should at least put on our clothes? Hm?" She whined. "Come on, then we can go to sleep."

Eddie helped Y/N up, holding both her hands and leading her to his room before he laid a pair of her pj shorts that she'd left last time she spent the night, along with one of his Dio shirts. "Here." He turned to let her get dressed as he slipped on a pair of boxers and sweatpants.

When Eddie turned back around Y/N was already in his bed with her eyes closed. He couldn't help but slide in behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, resting his face between her neck and shoulder.

"G'night babe." Eddie whispered, kissing her cheek. Y/N was already almost asleep but managed to mumble a soft, "Love you."

"Love you too sweetheart."

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

outer banks ● one girl two guys pt 2 ● j.maybank + t. thornton

warnings

angst, jealousy and tension, reader has a not so good home life -drunk / childish parent and an absent father/no clue who her real one is-, Kiara Carrera and you/yn do not get along well at all and the reason why is revealed here, writer attempting something she’s never actually attempted before ( complicated relationships, fml ) swearing, mentions of 🍃and alcohol, probably a lot of fighting / confrontations because JJ is a Pogue and Topper is a Kook and yn/you/reader will be irrevocably caught in the middle of the bullshit.. oh and most likely, a little bit of the filth at some point in the future.

<- female reader, vague physical description that may become less vague if/when I do more with this.

word count

4783 exactly. Welcome to part 2, ig?

( i know where this is going now. there will be more parts. you're all going to be quite sick of my bullshit by the end of this probably, lmaooo.)

summary

continued from ( here ) One girl. Two guys. One a Pogue, one a Kook. Who will win your heart? My summaries are shiiit omfg.

taglist

the doc is ( here ) and presently, there's nobody, not a soul on it for outer banks. if you want to be tagged to my outer banks content, add your name.

@tbmunson bestie i love youuu and this chapter would not have come out without our talk. seriously, babes, I owe you my fucking life for this.

other links

masterlist ● jj's masterlist ● topper's masterlist ● about + rules

You wake up to the sound of your mother coming home from wherever she slept the night before, yelling your name.

With a little grumbling, you pull yourself out of bed and make your way into the living room. “It’s 8 am.” you’re not amused at all as you stand there with a hand on your hip and the other one caught in thick and messy hair. “Go to sleep, alright?”

Through the partially open front door, you can see Luke Maybank sitting outside on his porch, a cigarette dangling between his lips and a cold one in his hand already. There’s no sign of JJ’s dirtbike, so you’re hoping he’s at the Chateau. Away from his father. You linger at the front door long enough that Luke looks up at you and gives you one of his creeper smirks and this is what prompts you to slam the door shut. After you’ve shut the door from where you mother left it open, you get your mother wrangled into bed down the hall. Lowering the lights and closing the blinds. As you’re walking out of her room, she gives you a small smile. “You’re such a good girl, ___. Always takin care of me.”

You sigh and nod. Because there have been times, when she’s too drunk to function or she manages to run up a tab that’s higher than her mortgage payment and there’s no spare money to make a house payment or get yourself food or other things you need.. You’ve toyed with the idea of running away, just living on your own. The truth of the matter is, you’ve been raising yourself since your dad walked out when you were 12.

,, and technically, I’ve been raising her too.” the thought comes and it’s bitter, it leaves you frowning. When she tries to get you to give her a hug, you’re kind but you’re firm. “Sleep, mom. Go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“Okay, angel. Mommy’s t-tired. We’ll talk later though.”

You walk out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, where you slap yourself together scrambled eggs and a few strips of bacon. The fridge is getting bare again and you’re more than a little glad that you get paid at the end of your shift at the Wreck in a few hours.

As you’re walking back into your bedroom, you see the screen of your cell phone lit up.

A missed call and a text.

The missed call is from Topper, which is surprising, considering you were at least 85 percent sure you completely botched the little conversation you guys had the day before. You start to get ready for the day and you text him back.

← Sorry. Fell asleep.

← What’d you want?

When he doesn’t answer, you kind of put it off to him being busy or him only calling because he’s bored in the first place. So, you gather some cutoffs, your favorite cropped white shirt and your makeup kit and you step into the bathroom. As you’re brushing your teeth, you realize that JJ’s texted you.

→ Pope and John B wanted me to tell you they missed you.

You smile a little at the mention of your mutual friends. But you’re frowning as soon as it hits you that JJ hasn’t made a peep about missing you. You shove the intrusive thought out and turn your attention back to an attempt to do anything you can to tame the wild beast known as your hair, scowling when you can’t even get a messy bun to stay without snapping hair ties. After the third hair tie, you give up on the messy bun and you opt for a french braid going down either side of your head instead. “Meh, it’ll have t’ do.” you shrug as you look at the final result in the bathroom mirror.

You text JJ back because unlike him, you’re not going to leave somebody on read when they’re reaching out like he’s done you for the better part of two weeks.

← Tell them I miss them too.

Three dots pop up, then they disappear. This goes on for at least two minutes until those three blinking dots are finally gone and you’re flipping off your phone screen and grumbling. Because you wish he’d just say whatever it is he apparently keeps trying to text and get it over with.

The second text is from Kiara and you’re rolling your eyes. Did she not get the hint when you exploded on her yesterday afternoon during your shift when she wouldn’t shut up? But you remind yourself that it’s better to at least attempt to be nice until people give you a reason not to.. And you remind yourself that your outburst was a little ridiculous, she doesn’t know you have feelings for JJ Maybank too because it’s not like those feelings are out on display or anything.

→ I did it.

Your brows knit together and you give your phone’s screen a blank look before texting back. You’ve completely forgotten about what she was asking your advice on while you were both working.

← Okay then. Awesome, I guess?

After you text Kiara back, you grab your phone charger and slip your cell phone into the back pocket of your cut offs. And since you’re only working til 1, you grab a beach towel, your earbuds and your swimsuit. You’re thinking like a little time at the beach is a good idea because it’ll keep you out of the house. Out of your mother’s hair while she’s sleeping it off before her shift at the hospital.

Then you grab your key and you’re locking it behind you when you hear JJ call your name from his house across the street.

You wave.

He frowns a little.

And starts walking over.

“Where have you been lately, huh?”

“Working, JJ. I’ve been working.” you explain calmly. And every part of you wants to ask him why it matters, after all, he’s the one who started distancing after you attempted to act differently, clue him in to how you felt.

“Okay, what’s with the attitude?” JJ asks, standing taller, folding his arms over his chest and God help you, you try not to stare at the way it makes biceps even more defined or calls attention to the way his shoulders are broader now, but you can’t stop yourself from staring a little. You shake your head and laugh.

“You know how I feel about her hanging around.”

Blue eyes darken. He gives you this sarcasm filled little laugh. “She was your best friend, y’know. And she had a rough time. Kiara’s our friend too, ___.”

“And? She’s the one who abandoned all of us. But I guess you guys are just gonna overlook that because she’s back now.. Until Michael and Anna get tired of her ‘acting out’ and make her stay away again. Or things get too real out here in the real world for her and she ditches us when we need her, man.” you’re angry and you’re bitter and you don’t mean to snap, but you’ve done it. And you can see him flinch a little. He covers with one of his cute lopsided grins. “Hey, whoa.. Easy.”

It takes him an entire ten minutes, but he finally asks about how your life is going. And normally, it would’ve been the first thing he asked. “How’s everything going… with your mom, I mean.”

“It’s fine, JJ. Nothing to worry about.”

“No, you’re upset.”

“No, JJ. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

As you’re standing there, your cell phone rings. And it’s Topper again. And every part of you is tempted to answer the call but you let it go to voice instead. And you’re staring up at JJ, shaking your head sadly. “I gotta go. I’ll see you around later.” and before you can stop yourself, you've stepped a little closer. Resting the palm of your hand against the front of his shirt as you look up at him. Then you realize what you're doing and you step away, start to walk away because if you don't.. You're going to say something or do something. "Later, JJ. I'll see you later, alright? I've gotta.. go." you call out over your shoulder because even taking one glance behind you might make you change your mind and linger longer than you have time for right now...

“Yeah. I’ll see you later. Hey.” he calls out to you as you’re walking down the road and you turn back to look at him, “Take it easy on Kie yesterday, you really hurt her feelings.”

And you start to ask him what about your feelings, why aren’t you allowed to feel anger at her suddenly wanting things to go back to exactly the way they were, but you stop yourself. Because Kiara Carrera isn’t worth losing your oldest best friend over. And if you do too much, it stands to reason that you’ll push him straight into her arms. Where he’s only going to get used and tossed to the side when Kiara decides she’s done playing at bad girl for a second or third time.

He’s your best friend. The boy you love. You don’t want to see him hurt.

You’re wandering into work and the place is already crowded. You’re fuming because you stopped at an ATM in the gas station and checked the balance of your shared account with your mother and you found out that apparently, during her little 3 day bender, she drained it and the account is now -100.

And you had the light bill scheduled to come out. So when Kiara spots you and wanders over, practically floating up to you as you tie on your branded apron and grab a pen and pad to take orders, you are not in the mood to deal with whatever your former friend is about to tell you.

What you’re not expecting is for her to tell you that she went for it and she told JJ how she felt. And you’re definitely not expecting the way it feels as if someone’s just taken a sledgehammer to your own heart. Because she’s too giddy, too happy. You can tell already this is just another one of her whirlwind decisions and you know it’s heading for disaster.

And you’re pissed. Because not a single time during your conversation with JJ before you came to work, not once did he mention anything Kiara’s standing in front of you telling you. Parts of you don’t want to believe her but the sinking feeling in your gut is what has you realizing it’s most likely true.

,, See? You weren’t the one he wanted.. If you were, don’t you think he’d have picked up on the way you were trying to be more affectionate with him and responded? What’d he do, ___? He got distant.” the thought comes and it somehow makes you feel even worse.

Between your mother choosing to be the irresponsible one yet again and this, you’re done for the day and you can’t take anymore. And Kiara looks so happy, so proud of herself, maybe even a little smug as she stands in front of you.

You’re not perfect. You want her to hurt like you are.

So you roll her eyes and laugh. “It’ll last like two weeks tops. That’s how it always goes with you, right? If you break my best friend’s heart, you’re dead to me. Have fun, I guess.” you shove past her and make your way over to a table filled with old money Kooks to take their order.

You can feel her staring, gaping at you as you go about your job.

By the time your break rolls around and you’ve heard her talking about it to John B when he comes in to pick up his order, you’re even more hurt and bitter than you were at the start.

And it’s true what they say, hurt people hurt people.

Because the first thing you do when you’re standing out back to have a smoke and at least try to salvage your mood for the day is to text JJ. In anger.

← fucking seriously? We’re supposed to be best friends, JJ.

← You can’t just tell me you’re with her? I have to hear it from literally everybody else?

← not cool, dude.

← Have fun, i guess.

And after this, you’re just.. Done.

As in, totally finished. Can’t take another shitty thing happening to you for the rest of the day. With almost two hours left in your shift, you find Kiara’s dad and tell him you need to take the afternoon and the next day off, something has come up and you need to deal with it. And while it’s kind of a lie, it technically isn’t.

You smirk just a little when Michael is telling Kiara that she’s got to give up her day off and the rest of the afternoon to cover for you and you hear her complain that it isn’t fair. Every part of you almost storms over and tells her that what isn’t fair is the fact that you covered every single shift she missed when she ran off to God knows where with your friends and nobody was telling you whether they were dead or alive.. But you’re just done and checked out, so you leave the restaurant instead.

JJ hasn’t texted you back and somehow, this doesn’t surprise you. And you’re at least fifty percent sure it’ll be a while before you hear from him again.

And you’re trying to come to grips with that. Sad because this is not how you saw your friendship with JJ Maybank ending at all. Frustrated because you know if you even attempt to open his eyes, it’s just gonna drive him even closer to her. Jealous because you know that the whole reason this whole thing is even affecting you like it does is because you want him but you were too scared to speak up.

The rain starts to fall and you pause your walk to throw up your hands and look up at the sky. “Seriously? Rain? Now?” you wonder aloud and the sound of laughter and an idling vehicle have you glancing around. Your gaze settles on Topper Thornton’s parked Jeep. He’s watching you, amusement making doe eyes dance.

“Everything okay, ___?”

“Swell. Everything is just swell, Topper.” you call out as the rain starts to increase, the loudness of thunder as the storm that’s been threatening to break for the last hour and a half finally settles over the island. You’re laughing too, soaked to the bone.

“Get in.” he’s giving you this charmers grin. It’s actually kind of cute. You eye him warily. “Aren’t you a little far from home right now, dude?”

“Yeah, well.. I saw you walking and you looked upset. Just get in. C’mon.”

You mull it over and in the meantime, the rain isn’t getting any slower. The storms not coming to a lull, either. If anything, it’s only getting slightly more intense.

You shrug. Grumble “What the fuck, why not. It’s not like he’s a stranger.” to yourself as you slink over to his Jeep and open the passenger door to climb in. As soon as you’ve shut the door behind you, he finds somewhere to turn around and he’s heading towards your side of the island. The awkward silence is too much. Silence, in general, is too much for you at the moment and as soon as you start to really overthink everything yet again, you’re sniffling quietly.

Topper reaches out to lower the volume on the rock station playing on the radio. And he’s gazing at you in concern as the Jeep rolls to a stop at the last red light before you’re leaving town behind. “Are you alright?”

You shrug. And you’ve always hated people seeing you cry, especially people you feel will somehow use that against you later on, so you train your eyes on the grass and trees going past as you take off again once the light is green.

Topper repeats his question two more times and on the last time he repeats it, you break. You’re telling this poor guy everything that’s been going on lately. Everything. Even your mother’s repeated shenanigans with the money. And it’s more than a little embarrassing, you want to die or vanish every time your mouth opens and more pathetic woe is me crap keeps spewing out, but you can’t stop.

And it hits you. This is the first time in a long time that anybody’s even made an attempt to ask you if you’re actually alright. And you’re not.. You’re really, really not.

Topper pulls into a rest area and puts his Jeep into park.

“C’mere, it’s okay.” he holds his arms out and you look at him, a brow raised for a second before you find yourself just melting into him a little. Crying it out to a point where your mascara is streaking the front of his soft baby blue plaid shirt. As you pull away -and it’s way too quick for him, he’s stunned at how good it feels to hold you the way he was- you look at the front of his shirt and cringe as you mumble a pitiful apology.

“It’s okay to not be okay, ___.” he mumbles quietly after a second or two. And then he grabs a fast food napkin from his console and wipes your eyes a little. Awkwardly apologizing as soon as he realizes just how close he is and stops to think of how he might be invading your personal space. “Sorry..”

“No, it’s.. It’s okay?” you’re shocked that you’re saying it. Even more shocked that he’s reacting to your meltdown the way he is, as opposed to walking away or shutting down. Ignoring you until you’re okay again.

And deeper down, you’d probably die before admitting it, you felt good. When he was hugging you, you could feel this calmness kind of take over. And you’re left to feel horrible because up to this point, you’d written him off with the rest of the Kooks on the island.

All this is shoved out of your head as he nears your side of the island. Where the pavement turns to dirt roads and the modest family homes turn to older homes, most in need of serious repair. “You don’t have to, uh.. You can just stop somewhere, my house isn’t far. I don’t wanna be trouble or anything.” you speak up quietly.

Topper shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. Besides, I just saw lightning.” he stares at you, watches you squirming in the passenger seat. He knows you’re probably embarrassed about the way you were just falling apart in front of him, he’s seen you around long enough to have taken notice of the way you always act like nothing bothers you. And he’s surprised to learn that you’re not as tough as you make yourself seem.

He tries -and fails- at mentally replaying the way you melted against him just minutes ago. He knows he’s screwed now and it will haunt him night and day. Because something just kind of clicked while he was comforting you. And it’s something that right now, he can’t even bring himself to wrap his head around.

Because admitting that he might feel something deeper than a physical attraction, well.. That’s dangerous territory, especially when he remembers the hell he went through with Sarah Cameron before she finally chose John B not so long ago.

“Okay, well.. My house is down the next road. On the right. Pink shutters.” you manage to mumble after you finally make yourself stop staring at his side profile while he’s driving and not paying any attention to you but where he’s heading instead. Topper nods. “Right.. Pink shutters.”

As your house comes into view, you take a few shaky breaths and prepare yourself to go inside and possibly have to deal with your mother. Parts of you are hoping she’s gone again just so you don’t have to because you know you’re only going to think about her blowing through all the money you saved and you’re going to be angry, you will yell and argue and say things you shouldn’t.

And she’ll yell back, she’ll cry, she’ll remind you that you’re the reason your father left. Then you’ll be forced to tell her that her affair is the reason your father left. Because finding out he wasn’t really your father, just in name only, well.. Kind of made him angry. And he was finally just done taking care of your mom whenever she’d break down or shut down like she tended to.

Topper pulls his truck to a stop behind an early 2000’s model Mustang and he looks over at you, watches as you seem to be preparing yourself to even go inside the faded white house with the pink shutters and the sagging front door. “And here you are… Are you sure you’re okay, __?”

You sigh. “Kind of have no choice, Top. Thanks for the uh.. The lift.” you’re leaning in over the console before you can stop yourself and you’re more than a little tempted to give him at least a peck on the cheek but you manage to stop yourself. You reach up and give damp blonde tipped hair a little fluff instead. As you’re getting out of the Jeep, you pause. “You’re actually not a prick.”

Topper chuckles and shrugs. “Who would’ve thought.” he’s smiling at you and the thought sneaks it’s way past your iron clad defense, surprising you. When he smiles and it’s a real one, he has a nice smile. Dimples, too.

You shut the door to the Jeep and watch him drive away for a few seconds before rushing into the house.

Your mom’s still sleeping it off, she’ll probably sleep until the absolute last second that she’s got to be getting up and leaving for her shift in the hospital on the mainland. So your deep-ingrained childhood habit for nights like this kicks in and you quietly make your way back to your room, shutting the door behind you. Flopping across your bed and just letting out a long and ragged breath.

–

“Why’s that asshole on our side of the island?” JJ is fuming as he watches the silver gray Jeep Topper Thornton drives pull to a stop in front of your mom’s place. From behind him, Pope speaks up with a shrug, “Dunno man.”

JJ clenches his fist. “I told her he was an asshole. And he’s one of them!”

“Dude… you’re trying to be with Kie.” Pope points out, falling silent under JJ’s stormy glare. JJ picks up his vape pen and takes a hit. And he turns back, watching as Topper’s Jeep drives away after a minute or two. You’ve gone inside by now.

→ What the fuck was that, cupcake?

→ C’mon, we talked about this. Dude is an asshole.

→ Look, I just don’t want you getting hurt or something.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and turns his attention back to packing up some clothes to go over to John B’s place for a few days. Pope is waiting in the doorway, shaking his head.

“You know you can’t have them both.. Right? It’s either ___ or Kie.”

JJ tenses slightly. “___ will come around. She just needs time. She used to be Kie’s friend too.”

“Yeah well.. Pretty sure Kie’s mom ended that when she made that stupid call two years ago and got DCPS poking around.” Pope studies his friend solemnly. “If you’re so sure it’s ___… why are you even bothering with Kie, man? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because..” JJ takes a few deep breaths and he shrugs. “If I go for it and it fucks up.. I’m gonna lose her completely.”

“And you’re not already, man?” Pope questions. JJ flinches a little. “She’s just been busy with work.”

“Mhm.” Pope moves out of the way so JJ can walk out onto the porch. And JJ spots the light on in your bedroom window, pausing to stare across the road at it. Until you catch him and rush to untie the tarot card print tapestry you have up as a curtain. JJ frowns a little. “She didn’t even wave.”

He’s starting to walk over and Pope grumbles to himself about it, catching up to his best friend. “I need you to stop and think right now, man. If you go over and you’re mad about Topper coming by.. It’s only gonna drive her to him.”

“It won’t. All I’m gonna do is talk, Pope. Okay? Trust the process.”

“Okay, alright. But I warned you. Okay, look.. Remember how she was trying to be more affectionate? And you kind of shut her out? And you’ve been avoiding her.. All I’m saying is if you go over there and you’re angry, man.. You’re never gonna be able to fix all that.”

When JJ doesn’t listen, Pope grumbles to himself and throws up his hand before walking back across the street. “Fine. Don’t listen, buddy. Whatever happens just happens I guess.”

JJ’s knocking on your door and as he stands there waiting on you to answer, he’s trying to decide what he’s going to say to you, going over that in his head. Because maybe if he plans out what he’ll say, it’ll be easier to actually say it.

But when you haven’t opened the door by the fifth or sixth knock, he’s a little annoyed. He walks off the porch and makes his way around to your bedroom window. Starts knocking on that instead. “Hey! Don’t you hear me outside?”

You pause the television show you’re watching and glare at the tapestry covered window for a few seconds. “Go home, JJ.” you call out loudly enough to be heard through the crack in the window. “I mean it. Go home.”

“What the hell was Topper doing parked outside your house?”

“Nothing, alright? Damn. Not that it matters or anything, but nothing happened.”

“You were in his Jeep, cupcake. C’mon, you know better than that.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Are you calling me stupid right now, Maybank? Seriously? Because that’s what this sounds like.”

“No! No, I just.. Look, he’s a Kook, cupcake. He’s not one of us.”

“And? Look, you know perfectly well I’ve never bought into this whole epic feud you all have going, JJ.” you call out before rolling over on your bed to sit up and pull the window to your bedroom completely shut.

JJ gives you an irritated look when you lock eyes with him through the window and you give him a little shrug. He throws up his hands at you and you can see him mouthing that you need to listen to him.

You assume that he’s left, so you unpause your show and go back to watching.

But then, about fifteen minutes later, you can hear him knocking on your door again. He even does the stupid little “Housekeeping?” that usually makes you laugh and forget how annoyed you are with him at the moment to go answer the door.

Tonight though.. Tonight it’s only making you even more annoyed.

“Why the fuck does it matter? You’re with Kie now, doofus. Focus on that. On her.” you grumble to yourself as you roll your eyes and slip out of bed to go into the living room and turn off the porch light.

“Come on! Talk to me!”

The porch lights go off and JJ is left to stand in fading daylight on your front porch. He’s staring at the front door in determination. He knocks again and finally, you just can’t deal another second. So you throw the door open and lean in the doorway, arms folded. Annoyance in your eyes. “Get off my fucking porch, Maybank.”

“Not til you listen to me, cupcake. Because apparently, you’re all hot and bothered by that.. Kook asshole.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. “It’s actually not even like that. Anyway, aren’t you with Kie right now? Why aren’t you.. Ya know.. With her? I didn’t ask you to come over and bother me.”

“You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

You raise a brow. “You act like I’m gonna go for him.” and you’re annoyed at the way JJ automatically jumps to that conclusion about you. So you pull the front door shut. “Get off my fucking porch, Maybank. Go spend time with your girlfriend!”

JJ is left to stand there, staring at the door. Baffled. Angry because you’re not listening and it’s like you’ve forgotten just how bad the Kooks are.. Or even the fact that not too long ago, he was in a pretty bad fight with Topper.

“C’mon. Let her cool down before you completely mess this up, JJ.” Pope speaks up from behind him and JJ sighs, waving a hand at your house as he nods in agreement. “Maybe if I back off she’ll come to her senses on her own.”

#jj maybank #topper thornton #jj maybank fanfiction #topper thornton fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #topper thornton imagine #jj maybank x you #topper thornton x you #jj maybank x yn #topper thornton x yn #jj maybank x reader #topper thornton x reader #<- my writing ● jj maybank #<- my writing ● topper thornton #<- warnings | swearing / confrontations / alc and w**d mentions ● reader has a not so good home life ● angst / hurt comfort / fluff #<- warning | female reader used ● v. vague characteristics assigned ( long / thick / messy hair and rock band shirts / alt style )#fandom ( outer banks ) ● season ( all ) ● characters ( jj maybank + topper thornton )

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sunmoonjune · 1 year

Note

you requested song recs so song recs you will receive !! (i was typing this out yesterday and fell asleep midway idk wtf i was on but anyways 😭)

first of all i’d have to say sweet by cigarettes after sex (other than the suggestive lyrics) esp “but it’s the way you smile that does it for me” and “sweet knowing that i love you and running my fingers through your hair” - yeosang in chapter 10 when bug smiled for the first time and yeo was petting? stroking? her i’m :( brb gotta cry

and the “it’s so sweet knowing that you love me though we don’t need to say it to each other” REMINDS ME OF YUNHOOO I CANT 😭😭 AND!! “and i will gladly break my heart for you” that’s so SAN CODED

second song i’d have to say is here with me by d4vd “i don’t care how long it takes as long as i’m with you” THEM BEING SO PATIENT WITH BUG AND HER TRAUMAAAASJEHUWYEBKHHDI/£()*683;”)¥]{$\[…] “ save your tears it will be okay”?? i need a minute i can’t handle this

also idk if you like instrumentals (i personally obsess over instrumentals and think they are underrated!!) but i’d day bug and ateez give very snowfall by Oneheart and reidenshi it gives me very “i’m thinking about you everytime i’m not with you” and it makes me GFHUDNUSNDJSJE you know?

and this last one isn’t english it’s turkish but M. by Anıl Emre Daldal THE CALMING VIBES? IMMACULATE!! i listen to it at least 5 times a day it’s so soothing and the lyrics are so cute im :( “Your words, eyes, and hands only belong to me. My dreams, smiles, and daydreams only belong to you” AND ALSO “Please come back to me darling” yes that’s very ateez to bug imo very ateez to bug….

SO SO VERY EXCITED FOR THE NEW CHAPTER esp because it’s gonna be so long i can take a break from assignments and revision and just curl up and be in the feels SO EXCITED YAY!!

- 📚 (take care of yourself sleep well eat well!! mwah!)

omg 📚 anon come here I am going to kiss you <33

first of all,,, all of these song recs are IMMACULATE and they all swiftly got added to the bug playlist!! <3 I love you so much omfg

ok ok so I had two cigarettes after sex songs on one of my writing playlists already but they were sadder vibes so I was so excited to add this one!! and you're so right omfg this song is so ateez/bug coded (besides some of the suggestive stuff) the lines about smiling fit the yeobug moment from chapter ten :')) the way she smiles does do it for him omg I'll cry <33

'WE DON'T NEED TO SAY IT',, STOP THAT'S YUNBUG -- they never need words they love each other SO MUCH I'm sobbing

'I'll gladly break my heart for you' <33 choi san the man that you are <333 I need to give him a kiss directly on the forehead and tell him how much I love him I swear :'D

here with me fits them so good too :')) they're so patient and willing to wait as long as she needs omfg <3 also also the line "I can't describe, I wish I could live through every moment again" reminds me of bug too <33 she isn't always able to describe her emotions (like the butterflies in her stomach and such) but she loves the feeling regardless <33 ASJLASLJ I'm making myself blush here;;

I'M MAKING MYSELF EMOTIONAL OMFG D':

and I do like instrumentals!! I have quite a few of those on my playlists as well! most of them are soundtracks to movies that I emotionally attached myself too tho LMAO -- like there's a song from the death cure (maze runner series) that I liked when I was young and it still makes me cry :')) also for any of my satosugu/jjk fans,, 'this is pure love' still makes me sob to this day xD

snowfall is immaculate omfg I love the vibes!! it definitely does give 'I'm thinking about you when you're not here' and it makes me mushy inside <33 definitely makes me GGASFEJSJL for sure XD I love it

and I'm so fine with recs in other languages!! I'll listen to literally anything my music taste is all over the place xD -- ok but "I beg of you, come back, my darling" THAT'S SO WOOYOUNG AND ATEEZ IN THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS OMFG EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATED D":

thank you thank you for these recs my love, they will definitely give me extra motivation to write <33 you're the best kiss kiss <3

and I'm so happy you guys are excited!! I swear I get your messages in my inbox and I kick my feet a lil cause your excitement makes me excited ya know? :D

also also I'm glad the new chapter can be a lil relief from studying and revising for exams!! I know the end of the year is coming up for a lot of ppl (or maybe that's just where I'm from idk :o ) and I definitely know how stressful that is :(( but I'm so so happy that this can be a little dopamine for those who need it xD <3

I hope you have a wonderful day my love <33 drink some water and eat well when you can! and take breaks from studying too!! I know you'll do so well I'm so proud of you hehe <33

#moonie speaks #moonie's anons #moonie's favs <3 #moonie's 📚 anon #like the moon #bug's playlist <3

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spiltscribbles · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

FROM THIS LIST | Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face.

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk.

It’s a decade and a half later— as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least, to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly, searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand.

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice.

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors.

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even.

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital.

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin.

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?”

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped.

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #ILU Victoria!!!#also to anyone side eyeing the buy me a coffee plz do not judge me #i am so searing embarrassed about it #rip #just it's there i guess #calls;jalksdgjaeowifjsadlkgh #look away from me #!!!#lmfao #spilt ink

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gunmetal-ring · 3 years

Text

Some of my favorite (probably unintentionally) hilarious Daryl moments in no particular order:

- when Daryl is with the Reapers and offers the one a cigarette to distract and kill him. He's just like. Oh hello fellow reaper how do you do. Just shooting the shit with the coworkers at the water cooler. We're bonding over smoking and contemplating quitting ha ha ha aren't we good ol work buddies

- in the cave helping everyone out of the rly tight spot that Jerry almost got stuck in. He was all careful and gentle w Carol and just let Kelly basically somersault onto the ground lol

- wearing some weird stupid hat when it was raining before they went into the subway and then it disappears and never returns and is never ever acknowledged ever

- having NRs bigbaldhead tattoo magically appear on his hand. Like obviously it would be silly to have to constantly cover it up and there's no real way to deal with it but like the only in universe explanation is that Daryl was like. You know what I rly need in this post apocalyptic world where antibiotics don't exist and tattoo artists aren't exactly a dime a dozen. A stick and poke tattoo. That's definitely a good idea.

- when he was pouting when Leah threw the fish at him "why are you always throwing stuff at me >:(" like bro did you or did you not break into her house and throw a fish at her door. She's not pouting about how you're always vandalizing her house so just grow up

- When. He. Styled. His. Hair. The. Day. After. He. Screamed. At. Carol. On. The. Farm. Like he wanted to look all nice and presentable for his (non)apology like omfg little baby doesn't know what to do and runs away immediately after the meeting is over bc styling his hair and a little head nod is just about all he can manage

Idk he's just so fuckin funny sometimes and whenever ppl are like "oh he's not snarky anymore and isn't funny" it's like bro not only is he intentionally hilarious at times (water jug moment? The entire episode with Rick when they meet jesus? Making fun of the king? Hello?) But there's also so many times where he does weird stupid shit that's fuckin hilarious

#op #twd

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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years

Note

you can totally make hc if you want!!!! i'd eat that shit up like breakfast ngl. in my opinion david is joe (kind of obvious) dwayne would be sal, marko would be murr and that makes paul q <3333

omfg yes! i had way too much fun doing these. i know they're a little shitty, but i tried istg! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The Lost Boys Pranking Each Other Like Impractical Jokers Hc's:

° I JUST KEEP IMAGINING DWAYNE AS SAL RUMMAGING THROUGH TRASH FOR HIS BIKE KEYS AND THEM LEAVING HIM DHDHDHR OR THAT TIME SAL HAD TO DIG THROUGH ELEPHANT CRAP TO GET HIS PHONE, ONLY ITS DWAYNE'S KEYS AND ALL OF A SUDDEN MARKO GOES "EH BUDDY LOOKIE ERE!" AND HE'S DANGLING HIS KEYS IN THE AIR "I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU GUYS!" SHDHFJFJF

° Paul is deadass one of the most ruthless out of all of them when it comes to prank wars. He's targeting everyone with ridiculous pranks, but they always bite him in the ass later on when he wakes up the following night with his hair dyed a luminous green. He rocks it but he totally had a nervous breakdown over it bc "THAT'S MY FUCKING HAIR MAN!"

° "Maybe you shouldn't have thrown my keys into that gross guys hotdog stand-" David drawls nonchalantly, flicking cigarette ashes at Paul's green goblin looking head.

° There was this one time that Marko attempted to prank David, and I say attempt bc it went absolutely atrociously... Maybe it was because Paul was trying to get him back and gave his buddy too much of that good green stuff. Marko's plan to train his pigeons to crap all over David had ended up with him waking up the next morning covered in pigeon shit. "Serves you right, you yutz-"

° "Man, we need to drown you in the tub." Dwayne snorts.

° "DON'T BRING THAT SHIT UP-" Paul screams from the other end of the Cave.

° "Right... But it's not like we're adding a dog into the mix..." Marko muttered under his breath, using a crumpled old napkin to clean the literal crap off of his face.

° "I SAID SHUT UP!"

° Paul thought it'd be a good idea to drop rice to bug David, but it ended up with all of them counting the fallen grains of rice lmaoo. He kept losing count and everyone got different numbers.

° Honestly, the best one's at pranking people are Dwayne and David as they're very patient and thoughtful.

° David schemes like an asshole cat, striking when you least expect it. It leaves Paul and Marko on edge for months, just waiting for David to pull a prank on them.

° "C'mon man! Just prank us already!" Paul pleads, paranoia finally driving him up the walls.

° "Yeah, we're livin' in fear here!" Marko agreed suddenly.

° "You know, you just reminded me about that..." David's just kidding, though the other two don't know that. David forget something? Not a chance. This guy is on that Petty Train™ and it's going straight to Saltyville!

° Dwayne can take years to strike with his pay back. He's got patience that even David doesn't have, and honestly, Dwayne's pranks are really intense. He'll scare the shit out of the others so much so that they don't prank him for good long while. Paul's the one who never seems to learn lmaoo.

° Well, unless he's in the mood for being playful that is...

° Like I'm talking about the fact that after digging through elephant crap in the local zoo after hours for his bike keys, he not only chased down all of them, but he kinda tied Paul and Marko up and may've just let the sun rise a little... he's waiting for an apology- he's salty now and won't care if they burn... but once he get's that apology he's been wanting to here, he's pulled them into the shadows.

° "Ahhhhh! Dwayne, man, c'mon! The suns rising!" Paul screams, thrashing around in the sturdy chains he's been bound by the wrists at.

° Dwayne responds with an expression of total anger, but it's cool and collected. He's patient. He can wait a little longer. He's in no hurry.

° Whereas David's lounging on one of the dusty old couches in the shadows. He had given Dwayne what he wanted, whether his apology was half assed or not. He still said it with some meaning, right?

° "David didn't even mean that piece of garbage he called an apology!" Marko spat out, eye cracking a vivid yellow whilst he stared directly into David's blue amused eyes.

° "Well at least I had the courage to swallow my idiotic pride~" David sing-songed joyously, folding his nimble gloved hands behind his spikes of bleach blond hair. "And it worked wonders, didn't it? I'm not the one about to be fried into ashes..."

° "Man, we're sorry alright?! We won't fuck with your bike or your keys again!" They both screamed in unison, shutting their eyes tightly as the sun began to rapidly crawl into the open space of the Cave. It's golden rays beginning to spark the ends of their blond locks alight! That was precisely what Dwayne wanted to hear, and without little thought, yanks them down and watches them scurry into a deep crack in the wall. That'd teach them from fucking with his shit ever again.

° "Fuck, my hair! It's all burnt on the ends!" Paul wails, swatting the frizzy ends rapidly to put out the sparks.

° "That's literally the least of your worries, Paul." David retorted into the air, gathering himself up from the couch and towards his own nest.

° "Yeah, we almost got fucking fried you sack of shit! This is the last time I listen to your ideas-" Marko rambles on angrily.

° Yes, they did sleep curled up together in the crack in the wall. They genuinely held each other tightly, Paul waking up from nightmares! Poor baby :'(

° Marko definitely does listen to his ideas after that lmaoo.

° Also it's very true, these guys compete to embarrass each other out in public, so much so that they've pretty much become a star attraction.

° That is until that one time Marko drop kicked Paul off the Pier and cracked his skull open... Yeah, they got into a lot of trouble for that one...

° These guys are chaotic dumbasses and their prank wars a cynical as hell. Like it get's so intense, but it's hilarious! Star and Laddie are kept entertained for ages!

° They be pranking Laddie too, but it's all in good fun. He's a kid after all! They're not gonna be excessively mean to him. That is until he fucks with their shit...

° Then you've got Paul and Marko holding him up by the scruff of his jacket, demanding where their Playboy mags, bike keys, their specific wrench is, that Deff Leppard Tape... boy you name it! They'll interrogate him good cop bad cop style lmaoo.

° Dwayne's heart kinda warms up whenever Laddie pranks him. He ruffles his hair, even if it makes him mad as hell. Laddie is his weak spot tbh.

° David just gives Laddie a pointed look and goes, "This better not become a common occurrence, otherwise I'll have to shave your head."

° Lmaoo the absolute sass that he receives from Laddie after that djkgdsghjsd-

° Sometimes David allows Paul and Marko to get away with their stupid pranks on him. Although it's incredibly annoying, he also finds it endearing how happy getting away with some of the simpler ones makes them. Paul thinks he's literally gotten away with it, but Marko knows.

° Paul deems himself to be the Prank King™ and honestly he is, but you know what? He's usually quite good natured and even though he does overstep boundaries, he'll always make things up to everyone if it really bugs them. He's out to have fun, not get murdered or cause tears. Most of the time...

° He ropes Laddie in on the pranks and loves it! Paul is a great big brother! He also enjoys pranking Star quite a bit, and she can be quite mean when returning the favor.

° Marko however, plays the dirtiest! He's pretty cynical himself, so his sadistic nature comes out full throttle. The lines within him are blurred. He's genuinely good natured usually, but once someone does something that pisses him the hell off... They best be prepared for hell to arrive at their feet.

° Like this one time, Marko cock blocked Paul for several weeks lmaoo then he ate the person Paul had the hots for. He dropped them at his feet in the Cave like, "Whoopsie!" He got into so much shit from Max bc that person was like hella important, I'm talking celebrity status sfjdshfhjsdfnbds

° David's just cynical as hell and he's always got something witty to say during or after it. Definitely mocks them dsjgdsjfds David's just an asshole cat istg! I mean, not even Star is safe from his pranks, but he kinda has a sisterly soft spot for her. He likes to dig deep under her skin and bug her. She's quite fiery honestly.

° Pranks with the Lost Boys is incredibly chaotic to round it off.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

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monsterfuneral · 4 years

Text

weightless | the lost boys

Relationship: Poly!Lost boys x Reader

Songs used: Alice In Chains - Rotten Apple / The Cure - Cold / Failure - Another Space Song

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: (None of the songs pertain to the plot/relationship, they’re simply just good songs) Drug use, a little making out :), possibly ooc?? This is my first time writing for them

Author’s Note: This is so self indulgent omfg. I wanted to write a semi vent fic while also something cute that made me feel better.

!!LOST BOY REQUESTS OPEN!! (smut, fluff or angst)

Full request list will be written soon <3

---

Your body felt weightless as you danced along to the song that played on the beloved rockbox. Fingers twisting and arms turning as your hips swayed and your feet carried you along the decrepit fountain in the center of the cave. Your fingers thread through your hair and drifted above your head before extending outwards in front of you, coming back to drag your fingertips across your cheeks, neck, and down to your chest before traveling back upwards. The high you had been riding still clutched you so beautifully, leaving you swimming in your own head as you enjoyed the echoing intro of an Alice In Chains song. The hypnotic vocals and beautiful instrumental made you feel untouchable.

The embarrassment you would have felt many months ago had been rightfully kicked away by the comfort of knowing you were allowed to simply be you in the presence of the boys. It took weeks- if not longer- of encouragement to finally crack you out of your seemingly unbreakable shell of self-preservation. But now here you were, dancing along to one of your favorite songs without a care in the world, knowing you were being watched by your boyfriends. You were swaying in almost perfect sync with the song, eyes closed, a small smile on your face as you sang along.

Hey ah na na Innocence is over Hey ah na na, over Hey ah na na Ignorance is spoken Hey ah na na, spoken Hey ah na na Confidence is broken Hey ah na na broken

This was one of your slower mixtapes that you always liked putting on after passing around a joint with the boys. It was a mixtape that always made you rise from your spot beside Paul and Dwayne, your head bobbing slowly and your hips following along with the music. The first few songs you were usually able to get Marko to join you in your music possessed state, by the time the third song is finished though he takes your old spot on the couch and watches you along with the others.

You’re not always alone after that though, sometimes when Star doesn’t have plans with Michael she joins you too. Her movements didn’t differ much from your own. The initial stiffness worked out by the buzz you both rode off of.

A new song came on after ‘Rotten Apple’ finally came to a close, Cold by The Cure played throughout the cave. You dropped down from the fountain and walked over to Paul slowly, plucking the joint from his fingers making him whine playfully before sitting back and watching you sway your hips as you took a long hit. You passed it back to him and grazed your fingertips over his jaw before straightening your back. You turned to walk back over to the fountain but your wrist was caught by a gloved hand, Marko stared up at you, feigning innocence as he gently pulled you down to straddle his lap.

Your lungs were still full of smoke as he cupped the back of your head and brought you forward, his lips touching your own. You knew exactly what he wanted. With a slow exhale you shared a smokey kiss, his lips were soft and his hands held you softly against his chest. Your own fingers were buried in the curly hair at the nape of his neck, brushing against your knuckles as you silently hoped your rings wouldn’t get caught. You separated and he locked eyes with you, a smirk now playing on his lips as he brushed his thumb over your heated cheek.

Everything as cold as life Can no one save you? Everything as cold as silence And you never say a word

He leaned his head against the back of the couch and exhaled the smoke you had passed. You planted three soft kisses on his neck before slipping from his hold and squeezing yourself between him and Paul. Marko’s hand came down to lay on your thigh as you leaned more into Paul, throwing your legs over the curly haired vampire’s lap letting him play with the fishnets you were wearing underneath your ripped jeans. Paul’s arm slung around your shoulder with his hand resting on your other, his back leaning against the arm of the couch and wedged his right leg between you and the back cushion in order to make your position against him more comfortable.

“You want another hit before I put this out?” He said quietly next to your ear, showing you the now tiny joint that he held with the tips of his fingers. You nodded against his shoulder, he brought it to your lips letting you inhale as much as you could before putting it out in the ashtray on the coffee table. You leaned your head back on his shoulder and blew the smoke out towards the ceiling, much like Marko had done.

Marko’s fingers picked at your fishnets absently as he continued to stare up at the tall ceiling of the cave, watching his pigeons flutter by occasionally. David was smoking a cigarette and watching you all, a small smile curling around the butt. Dwayne taps his fingers gently along with the newest song that played, he was reading one of the new horror novels you had bought him. Paul was humming quietly behind you, fingers tracing shapes in your shoulder while planting featherlight kisses on your neck.

All my missions float away I never trained too hard I'm so caught up in the tree of stars Falling in my backyard She'll always be what I can't find She'll always be where I break down She'll always hide behind a star I'll always dream she can't be far

You couldn’t help but reminisce a bit, remembering how reluctant you had been at first to be fully yourself around them, scared you would be met with the same criticism you were met with at home. When you weren’t, it felt like a weight was being slowly lifted from your shoulders. They all taught you that there was no need in pretending to be someone you weren’t in order to satisfy others. They coaxed the wildside out of you, making you feel the most comfortable you have ever felt in your whole life.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Dwayne asked, no longer reading the book in his lap, he had an almost tranquil looking smile on his face as he looked over at you.

You returned the smile, your eyes lidded and your mind moving in slow motion, “Just thinking about how happy I am.” You gushed, the loving smile not faltering ��I love you guys.”

You practically watched Dwayne’s eyes turn to hearts as he stared at you. Marko turned his head, his own eyes soft with a cute smile on his lips. Paul’s fingers twisted through your hair softly, kissing your neck, shoulder and cheek.

“You’re such a softie babe.” He joked, his nose pressing against your cheek softly as he kissed up your jaw.

Letting out a quiet chuckle you reached over and grabbed Marko’s hand, threading your fingers with his. You looked over to David who’s already staring at you from his wheelchair. He has a smirk on his lips as usual, but his eyes have softened too- something you rarely catch- before he winks and takes another inhale of his almost fully smoked cigarette.

“What’s got you all sappy tonight?” Marko teased. His fingers go back to picking carefully at your fishnets, lifting them from your legs and letting go over and over.

You shrug against Paul “I was just thinking about how much you guys have helped me. Being my shoulder to cry on and stuff.” Another chuckle passes through you softly “I just feel like I wouldn’t be who I am today if I hadn’t accidentally run into Dwayne, y’know?”

It was true. Before you met them you felt as if only certain parts of yourself were allowed to be spoken openly about, closing the more sensitive bits away in order to keep those around you comfortable. With the fear of criticism discarded in the presence of your boyfriends, it was like a breath of fresh air. Your body feels weightless around them, a certain type of excitement coming form wholly embracing yourself for who you are and being rewarded for it. Your enthusiasm about things wasn’t met with a strange look or an offhand comment, your anger about certain topics wasn’t met with guilt tripping, not with them. While they weren’t the most mature people you ever met, they at least understood how to make someone feel comfortable and loved.

“Aww you’re so cute.” Marko commented before leaning over you and kissing you on the lips. His hand cupping your cheek gently.

Your happiness was with them...

#the lost boys #the lost boys imagine #the lost boys imagines #tlb imagine #poly tlb #the lost boys x reader #paul imagine #dwayne imagine #david imagine #marko imagine #monster writes

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moral-turpitudes · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business: Part 1

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Slight mentions of past Abuse, Drugs.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,084 omfg I really did the most but I just kinda ran with it.

Summary: Y/N’s current occupation requires her to encounter Thomas Shelby, a man she thought was in her past for good, but as fate would have it, she has to face him once again, because no one can forget a Shelby.

Requested by: @msbzowy

Summary of request: “...Thomas lost any contact with the reader and one time while on a business deal he meets her because they’re both involved in the business. They would be fighting a lot but eventually something happens between them and the old feelings come back? You can make it sweet or steamy. No specific deal in mind, just like the general idea! Thank you in advance!”

A/N: This was requested as a oneshot but I had so many great ideas for it based off this awesome request, so I figured I’d turn it into a 2 or 3 part fic possibly. Let me know if that’s something you’d want to read. :)

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/n walked down the wooden staircase after receiving a phone call, one hand gliding down the rail, and the other holding her suitcase. Her nerves consuming her as she ran down the hall and out the door of her house in New York. The spring air filling her lungs as she quickly walked to the edge of the street, attempting to hail a cab. As she waved her hand out, she smiled as she saw one stop and handed him some cash for his efforts. She wasn’t much for pointless conversation, especially now. She was on her way to one of the biggest meetings of her career, a career she had found herself in only 2 years prior. It was a job most people wouldn’t want, but it paid well, and since she fled Small Heath, she needed the income and the protection.

Small Heath was a series of bittersweet memories. Seeing her friends at the tailor shops, walking down the dark cobblestone streets, and becoming particularly close to a man named Thomas Shelby. After the war, he got heavily involved in the business, dealing with rival gangs, going after commissioners, committing arson, murder, dealing with bets at the tracks, and breaking hearts most of all. In the matter of heartbreaks, y/n was his first true victim.

As the cab rolled down the city streets, she glanced out the window, remembering all that she left behind.

Tensions in the blinders were running high at the time of her departure from the company, back when they had a business meeting with a rival group, the Black Hats from New York. The blinders wanted to transport weapons and ammo for a cheaper price because of recent financial troubles, but they weren’t having it and the Black Hats declined, but not without blowing up one of Tommy’s supply areas. This smuggling shit was risky business to say the least, as these were being smuggled along with drugs.....snow to be exact. The little blue bottles were like gold, taking away the pain of the day while giving you the energy to go on to the next, sucking you in like a rip-tide at sea until you were consumed by the need for more. She had been all too familiarized with it because Tommy struck a deal with a huge supply of it before she left. He didn’t use it often, but Arthur was a different story.

It came as a shock to her, as she had been dating Tommy for a year before everything came crashing down. She was confronted by him at a family meeting saying that she needed to leave, that she had no place there despite her skills. She was a great shot and was helpful on many occasions, but to have her there would pose a risk they weren’t willing to take after they bombed him. So, in true Tommy fashion, he gave her some money, bought her a boarding pass, and sent her on her way to New York to start a new life, his cold eyes staring as he watched her board the ship, emotionless.

This only fueled her need to get back at him, to show him what he had lost, while also proving to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her. She could make a name for herself, even if that meant working for the enemy.

Pulling up to the brick building, she realized she was now in the belly of the beast, the Black Hats home-turf. She was never seen with the Shelby’s when they visited him in Small Heath, as she was always doing secretary work at Tommy’s place, or perched high on rooftops, aiming at the men below who had came to charlies yard for their meetings. She was always out of sight regarding those men, but now here she was, working for them. She came to them seeking any position, lying about where she came from, supplying them with her forged papers, and even hiding her accent. For as big as this gang was, they weren’t the brightest, as they accepted her in with little apprehension.

She earned a good living for herself though, quickly becoming their main contract killer. She would travel the country and take out the people on their hit list, and in return they’d provide her with housing and a guard that would check in every so often.

As she walked in through the heavy double doors, she nodded to one of the guards who let her through into the leader, Mr. Romboldi’s office. He smiled as she came in, fiddling with his golden ring around his finger.

“Ah there she is...little miss Quick Shot. Nice of you to join us.” He said using her nickname she’d earned among her peers. She could hit a target from various angles and distances without much help and came to like the name she made for herself. Y/n soon nodded and stood at attention like the others, ready for the days orders.

“We have some unfinished business in Small Heath, as I’m sure you’re all aware. It’s been a while since we’ve been overseas, and we’re going to send someone tomorrow to discuss our deal once more as they’ve had recent success in a certain business venture that I’m sure we’d appreciate here.” He said with a serious look in his eyes.

“What venture?” One of the men asked.

“Gin. Buying stocks in it, selling bottles, transporting cross-country, we Americans love our gin and Mr. Shelby has a new supply. He tried to low-ball us last time with the ammo, the guns, and the snow, but I’m going to send him an offer he can’t refuse this time.” He said smirking.

“What offer is that?” Y/n asked, putting on her fake accent.

“You.” He said looking at her. Y/n’s heart sank, as she looked at him and nodded. She never wanted to see him again after he booted her out like she meant nothing to him, even if it was to save-face for him and the company and for her safety.

“You’re going to get him to supply us the gin and get him to pay us full price for our efforts with this am I clear?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” y/n said.

“If you fail, we’ll be meeting again under very different circumstances.” He said, an evil smile playing at his lips.

She’s known him long enough to know that he meant he’d kill her or Tommy, and as much as she hated the man who broke her heart, she still loved him at the same time, and she couldn’t let him or his family die over a silly business deal.

As soon as she was dismissed, she grabbed her suitcase and headed off to the boating docks, buying a ticket and boarding the ship. She knew her boss didn’t care when she left, as long as she got there sometime that week. And besides, she was too anxious to wait around for tomorrow, knowing this was time sensitive.

After the grueling ride aboard the ship, she went into London after going through the necessary checks. She used her alias and made her best impression, and then went on to Small Heath as assigned. When she got out of the car, she smirked as her red heels hit the black soil covered streets. Walking by a shop, she saw a women’s tailor and decided to stop in, buying a well made pant suit. It fit well and was a nice gray color with pinstripe detailing. Looking around further, she decided on a gold pocket watch, and nice hat to match, and then went on her way after buying it all.

Walking down the street, she saw the Garrison, causing all the memories she had with Tommy and the rest of the blinders to start coming back. They were like brothers to her and despite her bitterness, she still loved them, as they were not particularly happy in seeing her go, as that was solely Tommy’s decision.

Y/n shook the thoughts from her head, and waited outside the shop, leaning her back against the coal-black wall. While lighting a cigarette and taking a drag from it, she looked off into the distance seeing a man in a peaked cap riding a dark horse, much different than the white one she saw two years ago. As he pulled up near Shelby Company Ltd. He stopped in his tracks as y/n took another drag of her cigarette, looking at her pocket watch.

“Nice horse Tommy. You’re right on time.” She said relishing in the fact that she could use her normal accent. Her sunglasses and new brimmed hat helped in disguising her face.

“Thank you miss....Who are you?” He asked his eyes burning a hole through her shaded lenses. She smirked and took them and the hat off, revealing her face.

“Y/n...” He said, his eyes growing wide. He immediately took her inside and to his office, shutting the door behind him.

“What on earth are ya fucking doing here?” He asked.

“That’s not a nice greeting for someone you haven’t seen in two years Tom. But given what happened I didn’t expect anything nice from you anyways. I’m here on business.” She said, walking past him to put her cigarette out. He watched as she walked towards him, her arms folded over her well-fitting suit, standing in front of him.

“What business is that?” He asked.

“Oh you know, just a little...mafia business back in New York. Nothing too big... except that you’ve pissed off my boss. And now I’m sent here to try to make a deal.” She said making herself at home in one of his leather armchairs. He raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of his desk near her.

“What deal? Who are you working for y/n?” He asked.

“The Black Hats. Mr Romboldi to be exact...ring a bell yet? The son of a bitch who took me in after you booted me out without a goodbye? Yeah, him. He still remembers your little low-ball offer for the guns, the ammo, and-” She chuckled as she remembered the drugs. “-the fucking snow.” She said giving him daggers.

He looked down, y/n could see the gears turning in his head.

“I told you to leave and not go anywhere near them y/n. Why the hell are ya working for em aye?” He asked angrily.

“You and I both know I couldn’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs and making pies for someone I never loved all day. I wasn’t going to be some house wife to some old bastard while I could’ve been out shooting and working a meaningful job. I wasn’t going to let myself rot.” She said, her own voice raising.

“You didn’t have to choose this life though. You could’ve left this behind like I wanted you to.” He said lighting a cigarette.

Y/n chuckled. “I remember what you told me one time, when I first started getting involved in Peaky business. You said and I quote, ‘you can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.’ And you know what Tommy? I wanted this life, I wanted you, I wanted to make a name for myself, I wanted the thrill of this job because I often feel nothing. But I’ve only gotten half of that.” She said getting up, pacing around the room as he watched.

“What did you not get y/n?” He asked too focused on the mafia issue at hand to realize she mentioned him.

“You, you fucking idiot! But you threw me out, no goodbyes, no letters, nothing.” She said, her eyes filling up with tears.

“Y/n...that was two years ago. I was trying to protect you.” He said noticing the tears running down her face.

“I had a job. I had a life here. I’m not expecting you to ever want me back but god damn it I’d like an apology. Hell, you didn’t protect me from shit.” She said, thinking about some of the things she had to do to get through to some people for her boss. She shuddered at the thought.

He looked hurt, seeing her like that, and despite it being two years since that day, he still loved her all the same, he was just terrible at showing it. He never thought he’d see her again, and in that moment he decided he wasn’t going to let her go again.

She wiped her eyes as she felt him walk up behind her, she tensed up, not knowing what would happen next. He put his hand on her shoulder lightly, and she turned around to face him, her eyes still bright and hopeful after all that had happened. He loved her, and after she left, he mentally beat himself up over it every day. He turned to snow for a while, along with his opium, but what he truly needed was y/n. Fearing she may be too angry to every take him back, he hesitated as he brushed the tears from her cheek and kissed her.

Instead of slapping him or walking out, she deepened the kiss, which surprised Tommy, as he pulled her as close has he could, not wanting to let her go. When they parted, lightly gasping for air, he smiled slightly and so did she.

“I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry y/n.” He said stepping back from her.

She looked at him as she processed what happened, she never expected to fall right back into his arms after all she went through, but here she was, being sucked in by his ocean blue eyes once again.

She straightened her blazer out and pushed a stray hair out of her face.

“Why did you kiss me Thomas?” Y/n asked taking another cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it.

Thomas thought for a moment, trying to pick his words less recklessly this time around.

“When I forced you out, I stayed up every night beating myself up. I’ll never get those nights back, but those nights made me realize something y/n.” He said.

“If you’re going to break my heart again just say it already.” She said tapping her heel impatiently.

“I love you...y/n.” He said looking at her, studying her as she moved anxiously. He loved the way she looked, the way she carried herself, the way she wasn’t afraid to call him out. But he was terrified for the first time in his life that the woman he loved wouldn't return those very words back to him.

She looked down, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I came here not only because of an order Tom...but because deep down despite my hate for what you did, I knew why you did it. And even though two fucking years have passed, I still haven’t been able to get you out of my head. So, I guess what the fuck I’m trying to say is that I love you too, you bastard.” She said looking up at him a light smile playing at her lips.

He smiled and walked over to her and took her hand in his, kissing it lightly.

“I promise to never do something so foolish again y/n. I swear on me fucking life...so am I forgiven?” He asked.

She took his words into consideration and nodded, bringing his lips to hers. Breaking away, she walked around the room slowly, remembering all of their fun times in here after-hours.

“So, about Mr. Romboldi, y/n how serious is this?” He asked.

“Well, he said that you’ll have to pay them full price for their services. He wants your gin. He sent me to persuade you to pay him for distribution and sales in the states......and It’s not easy Tommy, smuggling things.... especially alcohol back to the states........I hate him and his men believe me, but they risk their lives getting that kind of stuff so I think you should consider paying a full price.” She said.

“And if I don’t?” He asked.

Y/n sighed. “I was also sent here because he knew you couldn’t refuse an offer if it came from a pretty woman. Now, he may have been right on that part, but he doesn’t know that I’ve been working under an alias for him, and he doesn’t know I know you. They think my name is Y/N Anderson, from Virginia. And so if you don’t take this offer, they’re going to find out, and then Mr. Romboldi and his men are gonna waltz in here and kill you, me, and everyone you care about because they’ve already been wronged once, and they don’t like being wronged a second time.” She said sternly, taking another drag from her cigarette.

He sighed and ran his hands over his head, his face growing angry.

“What is it Tommy?” Y/n asked, noticing his behavior.

“After all this time, I thought maybe I’d be done for a moment y/n. With this whole empire of a business. But I think that moment will never come...before I stupidly forced you away, I had everything. I had this going great, and at night I could sleep. But now, when I do sleep, I dream. And in my dream, someone wants my crown.” He said with a sad look to his eyes. Y/n came over to him and hugged him gently, feeling him relax at her touch.

“Well, I’m here now. And the only way you’re going to get a break and get to keep your crown is if you help me fucking take care of this Thomas.” She said.

He sighed and took a moment to think.

“Alright...in that case...you’re going to call him from a payphone tomorrow. You’re going to say I accept his offer now that we have the fucking funds to do so, and you’re going to tell him we can meet in a weeks time. We’ll meet in charlies yard again.” He said.

“So we have a deal then?” She asked grinning, still embracing him.

“We have a deal.” He said.

“So now that I’m here...where shall I stay?” She asked.

“Well, first I’m going to re-introduce you to the family which I’m sure they’ll love. Then, I’ll be taking you to my place.” He said.

“And why is that?” She asked a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

“Because we have some unfinished business.” He said, before pecking her lips and ushering y/n out the door and into the family meeting room.

#msbzowy #asks #peaky blinders #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #katiesfics #damn i really went hard on this one oops #peakyrequests

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imaginedisish · 5 years

Text

Let It Be (Crowley x Reader) Good Omens

A/N: OOOOHHH MY GOD HEY GUYS SO IM OFFICIALLY BACK!!!! I’m a little bit rusty, so this first imagine is probably going to be a little bad. BUT!!! IM BACK. OMFG IM SO HAPPY AHHHH!!! So this imagine is half based on a request about Crowley and the reader starting out as friends, and then beginning to date, and half just something I needed to write. Life has been hard, but writing this helped. The title, and some parts of the imagine are based on Let It Be by The Beatles. I hope you guys enjoy!!! Keep requesting!!! AHHH!!! IM SO EXCITED TO BE BACK YOU HAVE NO IDEA. ENJOY! (P.s I will write for our ineffable husbands...pls just request)

Summary: Crowley comforts the reader after the reader receives devastating news. Crowley takes the opportunity to reveal a secret he’s been keeping for a long time. (College au)

Warnings: Language, depressive thoughts, depression, mental breakdown, some angst, overall sadness, mentioned and implied death of loved one(s). OH AND FLUFF AS ALWAYS ITS FLUFFY DONT WORRY.

Word Count: 1,964

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

You anxiously shuffle around your apartment as Let It Be by the Beatles plays from the record player in your dining room. The wood floors underneath your feet are cold and unwelcoming; a sharp chill rolls down your spine. The city lights glare through your window as the sound from the streets below boom throughout your apartment. Tears begin to fill your eyes, making everything around you a blurry mess. At this point, it had all become far too much for you to handle.

This year had been a terrible one. You felt as though you were consistently losing everyone around you. It lead you to question whether or not anything had a purpose anymore. Everything had been out of your control for so long, that it seemed as though things could never go back to normal. You were waiting for that light at the end of the tunnel, but it was nowhere to be seen.

The final straw, unfortunately, was the passing of your aunt. The worst part of it all was how far you were from your family. You were a junior attending NYU, and the semester was about to end. All you had to do was take finals, and you were free for the summer. Then, suddenly, your mother called you with the news. You felt numb, useless, and purposeless. Life seemed so dark, so short, so impossible.

What am I supposed to do now? You think to yourself. What’s the point of all this? You begin to sob uncontrollably. You know your neighbors can hear you through your walls, but you don’t care anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice, dragging you away from your dark thoughts. “Hello? (Y/N)?”, the voice calls, followed by a knock at the door. You stand up, trembling as you walk towards the door.

“Crowley? I-Is that y-you?” You stutter, sniffling as you try your best to be loud enough to be heard through the door. You wanted it to be him with everything in you. Crowley had been there for you since the beginning of college. Through thick and thin, he stood by your side.

You two had met in Central Park in September of your freshman year, and coincidentally realized you both were students at NYU. Something drew you together, and you two had been close ever since. Aside from your tastes in music, you and Crowley were polar opposites. He was tough, and had a sort of “bad boy” exterior. You on the other hand, were soft and kind. You were an English Major, and Crowley was a Chem Major. You were like an angel, and he was much more like a demon. In many ways, you two balanced each other out.

What Crowley was completely unaware of, however, were your feelings for him. Practically from the day you met him, you knew Crowley was going to be an important part of your life.

You knew you were going to fall in love with him.

“Yes, of course it’s me. Now let me in,” Crowley commands. Without hesitating, you swing the door open.

There was Crowley, his red hair spiked up, his black, circular sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

Crowley removes his sunglasses from his face, something he rarely did. He looks you up and down, quickly recognizing that something was wrong. He noticed the red blotchiness of your face, and how tangled your hair was.

He looks down at your hands, which are shaking uncontrollably at your side. A concerned look appears on Crowley’s face. He steps inside quickly, and slams the door behind him.

You instantaneously feel his arms wrap around your body, pulling you tightly into his chest. “I don’t know what happened, love, but I’m here,” Crowley whispers in your ear, shocking you a bit. He was normally much tougher than this. Seeing this side of him was different. It was far from the Crowley you had come to know.

“Whatever you need, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Crowley says as you grip onto his shoulders, and dig your face into his chest.

You two stay like that for a bit, until you calm down enough to separate from him. Crowley brings a hand to your face, softly wiping away your tears with his thumb. You sniffle softly, waiting for Crowley to ask for more information.

He opens his mouth. “So, do I get to know what happened?” There it was, the question you were dreading.

“M-my…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. Crowley grabs your hands, holding them in his own.

“You can tell me, love. I’m here,” His yellow eyes meet yours as they beg for some sort of a response. It’s clear his intensions are good. It’s clear all he wants to do is help. This was so out of character for Crowley. He was never like this.

“My aunt died, C-Crowley,” You struggle to say as your stare travels from Crowley’s eyes to the floor below you.

You can feel Crowley’s grip on your hands grow tighter. “I’m so sorry love,” Crowley says, stepping closer to you. “What do you want me to do?” He asks, his hands refusing to let go of yours.

“J-just stay with me, please,” You whisper.

“Of course, (Y/N),” Crowley says, pulling you back into his arms. You press your face against his chest as his cologne fills the air around you. He smells like vanilla and cigarettes. The two scents somehow balance each other out. “Is there anything else I can do to help?” He asks.

“N-nothing, Crowley. There isn’t anything anyone can do,” You manage to say. “Honestly I don’t even know what to do anymore,” You pause, catching your breath. “School is so fucking hard. I really don’t think I can do this anymore. It feels like absolute hell. I keep losing people, and I’m so sick of it. I can’t fucking do this anymore. I mean it.”

Crowley lets go of your hands. “Well, you aren’t going to lose me.” He steps even closer now, his nose just inches away from your face. “And you can count on that, alright?”

You’re taken back by his words yet again. Crowley wasn’t one for emotions like this.

Regardless, you nod your head in response. “Alright.” More than anything else at this point, you feel confused. Crowley has never acted like this before. It was a side of him you had never seen. Of course, over the years, he had obviously helped you through things. However, it was never like this. It was usually tough love, or advice; never the “mushy” stuff.

He walks further into your apartment now, finding his way to the kitchen. He opens your fridge, and takes out a dark, red apple. He opens one of your drawers and finds a knife, and he proceeds to cut the apple up.

You look at him, confusion clearly written all over your face. “What? You need eat something. Go sit down while I get this ready. I’ll make you some tea too,” Crowley says softly.

You’re even more confused than before. “This just…” You don’t even know what to say anymore. “This isn’t like you, Crowley,” You say, a slight smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“What do you mean, love?” Crowley asks, busy at work in the kitchen. “Am I not allowed to take care of you?”

Your smile grows bigger. “No, it’s just not like you to be…well…”

Crowley finishes your sentence. “Caring? Loving?” He giggles a bit. “Well, it’s you, so it’s different.”

Different? You think to yourself.

“What about me is different?” You can’t help but ask, making your way into the kitchen now.

“Everything,” Crowley says, his eyes stuck on the apple he was cutting. “That was actually the reason why I came by, tonight (Y/N). There’s something I need to tell you.” Your heart jumps into your throat. Crowley had never been this vulnerable with you.

Your mind is racing with thoughts. Could this actually be happening right now? Could Crowley actually have…no, no way. Crowley will never feel for me the way I feel about him, You think.

“What do you need to tell me?” You ask, stepping closer to Crowley. He puts the knife down, and takes a deep breath. He seems stressed, uneasy.

“Never mind. Now isn’t the right time. You’re going through so much right now, and I really don’t want to add more stress unto you,” Crowley says, shaking his head and picking up the knife again.

You take another step towards him. “You could never add more stress to me, Crowley. So, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Crowley puts the knife down a second time, and closes his eyes. “I, well…you see I…” he trails off, opening his eyes, staring deeply into your own. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it, Crowley.”

“I’m not good with all this ‘feelings’ bullshit. I’ve already done far more emotionally in the past five minutes than I have in my entire life. Can’t I just get a free pass? Save this whole speech for another day?” Crowley groans, stepping away from the counter.

“Speech?” You ask. “What speech?”

“Nothing,” Crowley says, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh come on. Just tell me Crowley!” You beg.

Crowley says nothing.

“Say it already. How hard can it be to-,”

“I’m in love with you,” Crowley blurts out.

“I-,I…” You’re at a loss for words. You had been waiting for Crowley to say that for three years, and you were convinced it was never going to happen.

“I knew I was going to fall in love with you that day in the park,” Crowley says, his yellow, golden eyes searching yours frantically. He brings a hand up to comb through his red hair. “Every day from there on out was better because of you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “I know you don’t feel the same, but I just had to get this out of my system. I love you, (Y/N), and I have for quite some time. I just couldn’t keep ignoring it. I couldn’t just let it be anymore.”

“Crowley, I-,”

“I’ll go now. I’m so terribly sorry for this,” Crowley says, making his way towards the door.

“Crowley wait!” You say, following after him. “I love you too,” He stops in his tracks, and whips around to face you.

“Y-you love me too?” Crowley asks in disbelief.

“Yes, of course I do, Crowley.” You say. “I’ve loved you from the very beginning.” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Are you serious right now?” He asks.

You roll your eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He takes a few steps closer to you.

He cups your right cheek with his hand. “Then I’m sorry I’ve waited so long to do this,” Crowley says. Suddenly, his lips come crashing down on yours.

His lips are soft and warm. The moment fills you with the sense of purpose you once thought was lost.

Crowley pulls his lips apart from yours.

“Better late than never,” You say, a smile spreading across your face.

And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be

For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

Note

So... Abby responds to her family's intervention by obediently telling them she'll stop (ie. lying to them). She then immediately tries to find ways to keep the blog in secret, hiding behind various usernames, lurking on her coven's blogs, more time deleting posts from both blogs we know about. Meaning, instead of getting help, she spends even MORE time online engaging in more batshit crazy crap to cover her ass. Yeah, sure, that doesn't signal dire need for mental health intervention AT ALL.

It looks like that is what is happening. We will have to see what the future holds. What does Abby do?

So far the fandom is flailing. Cassie got a couple of anons- one that reads like those anons Abby used to send herself as it covers all the issues they are most upset about so perfectly well (My comments in parenthesis and italicized::

Anonymous asked: Even if I am unsure about CC itself, I don't buy M*arr*n. I just don't. And the other side is using doxing and the fact that you and others say things they don't like about M as an excuse to do so and as a way to detract from the fact that their couple goals have some pretty big, glaring plot holes in their love story. I've not seen anyone on this side of the fandom out or dox anyone publicly as a way of humiliation. M gave up her privacy by dating D, but Abby didn't and they were wrong. Period.

cassie1022 answered: Nonnie, I swear every time they diagnose us as mentally ill or say we’re bitter hags, an LGBTQ angel gets his or her wings. We all know my beliefs, but there are MANY people that are like you and don’t know for sure about CC but sure as hell know Miarren isn’t a normal, healthy relationship. (Funny thing, I don’t remember anyone diagnosing Cassie as mentally ill. Cassie is alwasy the wallflower that nobody wants to dance with and she tries so hard to be part of the fun people. Last week she was sad because I hadn’t sent her a “hate” message (See comment in last post below)

Even if I remove D from the situation, I would still think M is a lazy, spoiled toddler with no discernable work ethic coupled with a superiority complex that rivals the Cheeto in Command of the US.

You are absolutely correct. Our fandom just wants to be left alone. We don’t send hateful asks to the other side. We don’t have to. They feel they have the right to dox CCers because they don’t like what we say about M, a woman that would light a cigarette from the flames engulfing them and not call 911 to help them. I mean, honestly, it doesn’t get much lower than mocking someone’s death. Plus, as you correctly said, M put herself in the spotlight “dating” D. If she didn’t want that attention, she would have stayed in the background. There are plenty of celebrities married to non famous people and we don’t see them at every event like we do M. (It is BAFFLING to me that they can’t comprhend something as simple and obvious as the reasaon they “see Mia everywhere” is because they fucking stalk her and they hyperanalzye every photo Darren is in looking for her. If they started stalking Ben Feldman they would see his wife just as much as they see Mia).

Bottom line is what they did to Abby was deplorable, but, just like their kween, they feel justified in doing whatever they want. This isn’t the first time they’ve crossed a line with regards to my friend, but it was the worst.

notes-from-nowhere Anon, they love to throw the guilt of their actions on our shoulders, it’s how they justify what they do to themselves. They need us to be the bad guys otherwise what is the only option left? (I never know what the hell Notes is trying to say- throw the guilt of our actions on their shoulders? I’d love an example of that. I can’t imagine what guilty action I put on their shoulder. As for needing them to be the bad guys or what do we have left? OMFG are you kidding me? We critcize the cc fandom for being misogynistic, homophobic, bullies who attack Mia, Darren, Ricky and their own Nonnies. They have viscioulsy attacked people in their own fandom who dared to question them. But the biggest reason we push back is because THEY LIE. All the damn time. So what do we have left? Being on the right side, being correct, not lying, not needing to lie, and the joy of watching Darren live his best life)

Leka got a couple of asks but her answers were weak, confusing and pointless. It’s clear she isn’t ready to take over as their leader. She repeated Abby’s main talking points, tried to use big words to sound smarter and basically ended up not making a lot of sense:

Anonymous asked: I could be wrong, and I hope I am, but I think the character on the HW poster holding the girl is D's character, it would fit if you look at the other guys on the poster, maybe this is already the first hint to show D's character is not gay and so technically not breaking the no more queer roles rule his team set for him. It won't make it any better because it's still a career on the bag of LGBTQ+ people with it's teams but it's technically not a broken rule. I just really need for things to change, I want them to so bad, it kills me seeing someone so kind in a situation like that, and I truly believe D is one of the kindest people in that horrible town. He deserves better than M, I wouldn’t even mind if he goes onto another beard but she and RR just need to go. I really think it’s crazy people still think everything HW is real and PR relationships don’t exist, I wished that place was just better and had a moral compass, people deserve more it kind of shows just how jaded this situation has made me, I can’t even enjoy amazing promo material without directly twisting it into something negative, I don’t want to be this way and if I feel like this I can’t even imagine how D must feel. He is stronger than I’ll ever be living through hell every day, even if he’s not ok he’s still here and holding on, I don’t know if I could in his position. Sorry for the long message and the unneeded negativity, I guess I just had to vent a little

*********************************

Leka answered: So let’s look at the way HW is described:

“Each character offers a unique glimpse behind the gilded curtain of Hollywood’s Golden Age, spotlighting the unfair systems and biases across race, gender and sexuality that continue to this day. Provocative and incisive, HOLLYWOOD exposes and examines decades-old power dynamics, and what the entertainment landscape might look like if they had been dismantled.”

I do consider this the very intriguing thing about the news. (And it just goes to show that believing everything you’re sold is being utterly and completely ignorant.) Let’s say you’re right because ofc it’s possible. How does R/aymond fit in here? Given the excessive way team shit has pushed that article, a technicality won’t be good enough. There has to be a better plan. This doesn’t match what’s been said in his name.

What I think is this doesn’t necessarily have to mean much. You know very well what you see doesn’t have to be the (full) truth. That doesn’t just apply to the real HW. Especially considering the time period of this show. And let’s not forget the pap pics we got at a gas station. This doesn’t rule out SB as an inspiration. I would advise anyone to read up on him. We don’t know at this point. As we keep saying, the best thing to do is to wait and see. I’m certainly interested in finding out more.

As time goes on, the danger of this situation keeps becoming even clearer to me. D deserves much, much better. He’s incredibly strong, but the most toxic person in his life needs to go and she’s more than welcome to take the jumping jackass with her. That’s definitely the most important thing right now. (I’m curious what the danger of Hollywood is?)

awesome-fanfictionada: @leka-1998I’m just wondering - it must have been D who got himself this job on HW, right? Couldn’t this have been done on purpose to counter that ridiculous statement - which wasn’t even accurate, if the source was that interview where he stated that he wouldn’t want to be a casting director? Could in this case RM be a friend?

leka-1998: @awesome-fanfictionada Yes, he did that himself. Again. And he said the show’s been sold late in 2018. According to an article that came out later, it happened in February 2019. Not true.

HW has been a thing before that statement was made, which is indeed very different from the answer D himself gave during the interview. That’s what makes the article seem like sabotage by team shit. And standing in RM’s way is never a good idea. So while I will obviously never like him, I’m reserving judgment on his current role until we know more.

Anonymous asked: The underlying issue in general is really that social media has made it so people think they get an accurate glimpse into the lives of celebrities, when in reality social media, like everything else that is publicly released about them, is used as a marketing tool. People are actually more inauthentic than they've ever been because they feel pressure to maintain a certain image for social media at all times. So anyone who decides D is living honestly, it's because they want to believe he is.

Leka: True, nonnie. Just look at the text lines that are becoming more popular again. Not nearly as genuine as people want to believe. In D’s case, what has to be brought up? M. Oh Halloween and her amazing shopping skills praised on SM. The work fam honeymoon pic promoting the place they stayed at. Coa/chella for the H&M ad. Mardi Gras posted shortly after the mockery to promote the designer. I could obviously go on. Most of what we see on SM shows the person the 10 year crew wants him to be. And what looks like a split personality if you compare certain posts. Which brings me back to ‘they want to believe’, as what you’re saying clearly isn’t a secret. Anyone can choose to ignore it but at this point, if that’s the case even though you’re more or less paying attention, it’s really a conscious decision.

Oh btw, there’s a HW IG account now and it already has a D follow. Imagine that. R/oyalties co-stars, anyone?

Flowers didn’t get any asks. Amazing since she has more followers than I do and she bragged about getting more “notes” than me. She did answer azscc who posted an odd rant that baffles me. Who the fuck is azscc and who is posting anything about her? I realize I am not the only person in this fandom posting about ccers But I just checked all the blogs that I know of and nobody is talking about her;

azsc its so weird how chillarrens call me a bully while i only say something rude towards them if they write bullshit towards me. and its just ironic how chillarrens go around calling people bullies while they are the reason why tons of cc accounts use their accounts private or don’t post their opinions and etc. the real threat to the fandom are people like you. so instead of going around throwing shit on people and calling them “mental, delusional...” get a life. no cc believer goes around hunting for chillarren pics and insult the account owner so why don’t you all grow up and realize no one has to agree with your opinions. every crisscolfer blog/twitter page/insta acc basically stan accs never asked for your opinions on their pages so why don’t you just let it go? no one cares about what you all say or do so why are you forcing it this much?

call me a bully i am pretty much okay with that. its obvious that people are unable to understand basic sarcasm and irony and i am not judging because to actually understand what people say you have to at least have an average IQ level. and if you don’t have it, it’s okay but that doesn’t mean you can twist people’s words and post them all over the internet. but its lowkey really funny that i only had my instagram acc for something like 4/5 months and i received over 300 hate/insult/blackmail/death wish messages and etc. and who are you people to call us bullies? (Nobody is a Chillarren. Darren and Mia are married and Chris and Will are in a long-term relationsihp, Nobody has to “ship” them in order to believe they are together. In America, we accept that when someone introduces their wife or their boyfriend they are telling the truth. It is customary to address that person as their wife or boyfriend respectively. The crisscolfers on the other hand, must use a fandom ship name because they are shipping two people who are not in a relationship and never were. All evidence indicates Chris and Darren are no long friends; they are nothing more than former co-workers-friendly and polite when they see one another but no longer involved in one another’s lives. Chris and Darren both have denied (more than once) that the were ever in a relationship). .

flowersintheattic254 I have never in my whole time here posted an anon to a Miarren account. I have no desire to. I’m confident in my beliefs.

The interesting thing for me is that I’ve been here for about four years now and in that time I’ve seen the head of the fandom disappear, other people disappear because their families have been doxed, established long-term cc blogs with a wealth of history deleted without warning. I myself have had my daughters threatened. This sort of stuff doesn’t happen anywhere in the fandom but here here. If we are a bunch of delusional crazy middle-aged women then this shouldn’t happen. (Who was doxed? Who dissappered? It’s all “liar liar” with everything ccers say. In the last 4 years Abby has been the only leader of the cc fandom. Michelle left between 4 and 5 years ago because her outrageious cc comments threatened her ability to raise money for her little Klaine-fanfic rip-off movie. I vaguely remember someone asking flowers how her daugther’s would feel if they read what she writes- hardly a threat. If there was something more she never posted any proof. As for blogs being deleted- so was D-Criss News. It happens. The only cc blog that I know of that disappeared was DisneyPrincessModelWorld’s original blog which had was a hot mess of lies and catfishing. She visciously bullied Mia. Hardly someone to mourn their blog being deleted).

It’s shocking that an actor may lgbt causes such drama. (HUH?)

Flower’s comment is so disingenuous. While it is technically true -she hasn’t sent me anons, she HAS instead publically ridiculed me and frankly, I can’t see how that is any different? I’d say it’s worse because they wanted their followers to see what they wrote and the only way to ensure that is to post it on their blogs. Flowers and Abby posted many public “Michy” posts. Here is her most recent:

flowersintheattic254Oh and I guess Michy sent us all some hate today.

I guess I have way more followers than you and only about 4 that send hate. You haven’t for ages.

I think I have over 70,000 hits currently to my blog. I must be saying something interesting.

He’s been married allegedly for a year and people still doubt. That’s gotta hurt you. Anyway......

✌️

ajw720 Michy told me today today that the outing couldn’t possibly be promo, because JS was only cast in September! What a moron who clearly doesn’t know how HW works. Sweetheart, it was ANNOUNCED in September;)

I was waiting for a few more months, but in 4 years, since i have been tracking, i have almost a million! (976,695 to be precise).

It is amazing that so many people care about what us bat shit crazy, irrelevant, psychologically unstable, threatening, hateful tin hats have to say! And that does not include people reading on their dash or that hit you on the app! So yep, Michy, clearly what we are saying is being monitored by someone. And clearing making people think!! But you keep wasting your time writing for your audience of 4:)

cassie102 I feel left out, Michy didn't come at me today. Must hurt like hell knowing you're a joke that perpetuates a bigger joke.

leka-1998 Birds of a fake feather flock together. When the right person says tomorrow’s Christmas, tomorrow’s Christmas. Get ready, everyone.

If I narrow it down to the last six months, about 10,000 btw. Hm strange.

flowersintheattic254 @ajw720 the number of hits you have give me oxygen. If Michy thinks they are haters then she is delusional. People know when they are being sold something fake and they look for answers.

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firelord-frowny · 4 years

Text

itsmerandi replied to your post:I finally watched parasite and what the FUCK

Lol another mutual of mine is watching it tonight too! PLEASE I’d love to hear your thoughts!

@itsmerandi Okaysolike?????

literally WHERE do i even BEGIN omg!!!

So, as far as lying to get well-paying jobs working for rich people, I wasn’t even remotely mad at the son or the sister. Like, the son was actually kinda qualified for the job, even though he didn’t have the credentials to prove it, so like, I ain’t mad at him for forging some documents and lying about his education lmao. The sister was a bit shadier, I guess, lying about being a psychologist, which like, that wasn’t necessary lmfao. But I still wasn’t too mad, bc hey, a girl’s gotta get paid.

BUT THEN! When they framed the driver for being a perv??? And then got the housekeeper fired by triggering her allergies and then convincing Mrs. Park that she had fucking tuberculosis??? That was vile! Like gosh! It’s one thing to lie your way into a job, but it’s another thing entirely to GET ANOTHER WORKING CLASS PERSON FIRED so you can take their job!! Which like, I mean, I guess being broke can make people resort to hella unsavory things, but woooow. That was sooooo messy.

But the whole time, I’m enjoying the wacky shenanigans of this family of con artists living it up in a mansion that isn’t theirs, getting drunk, making fun of the rich folks for not having a clue that they’re being duped, and I’m just having myself a grand ol’ time.

BUT THEN OMFG WHEN THE OLD HOUSEKEEPER SHOWS UP TO GET HER FUCKING HUSBAND OUT OF THE BASEMENT???? WHAT??? LMFAO WHYYYYYY!!!! WHAT IS HE DOING THERE!!! AND WHY DOES HE SEEM TO HAVE A CREEPY OBSESSION WITH MR. PARK??? I literally just. Don’t even know what to say about that lmfao ew ew EW.

But like wooooooow that scene where they were hiding under the table while Mr. and Mrs. Park were snuggling on the couch and like... Mr. Park starts talking about how the dad has a weird smell... he said he smells like a fucking boiled rag! A BOILED RAG, RANDI!!!! That’s! So MEAN! A boiled rag!!! Not just a rag, not even a dirty rag, but a BOILED rag. Boiled. BOILED. I can’t. I CANNOT!!! This poor man had to listen to someone say he smells like a BOILED RAG!!! I felt so sad for him omfg!!

And then when they finally sneak out of the house and return home to find THEIR ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD FLOODED IN SEWAGE??? And they go in their lil home to try to salvage anything at all, but it’s just. Ruined and disgusting!! :( And like, jeez, the daughter broke my fucking heart with the way she so quickly resigned herself to abject apathy. Like. There is not one single thing she could do to make the situation even a little bit better. She’s helpless. She’s watching her home become a literal cesspool. Shit is exploding out of the toilet and she just fucking accepts it, and smokes a cigarette, and chills on the toilet while shit spews all around her. Like jeeeeeez. That scene Got To Me. That was the single saddest moment of the film for me. And the fact that after all of that happened they had to go back and work for this rich family??? Heartbreaking. You lose everything in the blink of an eye because you were too poor to be able to afford to live somewhere where there’s lower risk of a catastrophe happening, meanwhile you have to smile your way through working for filthy rich people who have probably never had a reason to even worry about losing their home.

AND THEN!!!!!!

The birthday party. The fucking birthday party.

Randi.

RANDI!!!

what the FUCK!!!

The sister! The poor sister!! She was kind of a shitty person, yeah, but damn! She didn’t deserve that! :( :(

AND THEN THE DAD STABS THE OTHER DAD all because he saw him pinch his nose shut at the smell of the crazy basement man! But tbh I lowkey felt like I would have wanted to do the same thing lmao like jeez, you classist lil shit, your son’s birthday party just turned into a Mass Knifing, and you still have the presence of mind to pinch your nose at someone’s stank????

But then again, i know i often feel like i would rather Literally Die than smell something stanky, so idk lmfao.

But anyway,

Jeeeeeeeeeesus fucking christ!

What! A fucking! Nightmare!

And then goshhhh when the son decides to get rich and buy the house??? And the dad is just being a creep living in the basement?? That was some pathological shit omg. And it made me so saaaAAAAD like wow, there really are people out there who want so badly to be rich that it’s like a legit fairy-tale-like fantasy for them. Like, they just go and stare longingly at big houses. Which like. On the one hand, I can sorta imagine how poverty might make someone long for exorbitant wealth, buuuut personally, I can’t imagine legitimately wanting that kind of lifestyle, let alone longing for it and feeling depressed about not having it. I mean, I can see, at most, how it would be cool to spend a few nights in a luxury suite with room service and fancy showers and plush robes. But like. I don’t need to be wealthy for that lmao I just need to save up a few grand to treat myself to a lil fancy vacation maybe once every few years. It’s not at allllllll something I value enough that I would want it at my fingertips every day. Like, I really don’t feel even remotely envious of wealthy people beyond the fact that they don’t need to worry about the cost of food or housing or health care. Really, I’m more likely to pity them for various reasons that I’m currently too unfocused to articulate. But yeah like. The fact that people are so often and so intensely encouraged to aspire toward obscene wealth is sick and, especially when coupled with poverty that’s manufactured and built into a society, it can make people so spiritually/emotionally ill. :(

But oh oh!

Also??? I was surprised how much I appreciated the portrayal of the rich family??? I mean yeah they were a tiny bit elitist but they were mostly just a nice, normal family. In media that depicts dynamics between rich people and poo people, I’m so used to the rich people being portrayed as snobby and evil and selfish. But these folks weren’t any of those things. They were just normal people. Normal people who have a few personality flaws that stem from being accustomed to being able to have whatever they want exactly when they want it, but like. They were still nice, kind people for the most part. A loving husband and wife who are invested in using their affluence to make sure their children can thrive.

Which I mean like, I don’t mean to suggest that ~oh wahhh, rich people are unfairly portrayed in the media~ or anything like that bc that would be dumb lmfao. But in this specific context, I liked that even though they weren’t ~good guys,~ they definitely were not villains. Just! Wealthy folks who are mostly just minding their own business and throwing their money around!

#itsmerandi

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