Me Scrolling Through The Eddie Munson X Reader Tag Every Morning Like It’s A Goddamn Newspaper, Knowing

GUYS THESE TERRY PICS OMFG 

230521 Taehyun Weverse Post

BTS (방탄소년단) @ Permission to Dance: On Stage Concert performed ‘Black Swan’ at Seoul Olympic Stadium on October 24th, 2021 in Seoul, South Korea

IN-BETWEEN DAYS

Carl Grimes x Reader

⚠️ Warnings: language ⚠️

The light was so bright it hurt your eyes.

The smell of the hospital room was one you'd never forget. It was your dad's last moments, after all, and the place reeked of death and old perfume. You tried your best to focus on something as silly as the smell to keep you distracted from the scene that was playing out before you. Your dad, lying helpless and stating up at the ceiling as a flurry of doctors rushed around the room and around his bed, yelling incoherent sentences to the others before beginning the procedure. You knew it wouldn't work. He was already gone.

The same light that seemed so bright to you left his eyes and a hoarse sigh escaped his lips. He died smiling and you knew it was purely because he saw your mother waiting for him on the other side.

...

Your father never had to live in this apocalyptic world, which was a good thing. He had died of a heart attack a few years back and you focused on keeping yourself alive throughout all the chaos surrounding you. You were a different person now then you were back then. You wondered if he'd be proud of the shitty decisions you've made leading up to this point; the way you had to teach yourself how to fight and kill, never letting anyone into your heart and break down your walls. That is until you met Carl.

You had been an orphan after your father's death, going in and out of orphanages and foster homes until the apocalypse hit. You found yourself all alone after that and did your best with what you could to survive with what you had. You had met Rick's group along the way, finding out later that they had just lost their last shelter which apparently was a prison not to far from where you were stationed. An old treehouse.

Why you were remembering your past at a time like this, you didn't know why. You just felt especially nostalgic today of all days and you were reminded of your father because Carl had found one of your favorite CD's while out on a run- The Cure.

Your father had also enjoyed The Cure and it felt even more painful to listen to it today, because of the nostalgia and the fact that you were finally starting to enjoy bits and pieces of what was left of the world without him. You felt guilty. Guilty for letting him die.

No. It wasn't your fault.

But it felt like it.

You pet Carl's hair as he laid in your lap, eye closed and lost in thought as you both listened to the song 'In Between Days' by The Cure. You weren't sure what he was thinking about, but part of you felt as though he was reliving his past and overthinking the his actions too. It was songs like these that made you feel your past creeping up on you again. You didn't mind thinking about your past. Your father had been sick for a very long time. You had killed people before but you would do it all over again to save those you cared about. You wondered if Carl felt the same.

He didn't let anyone into his head. He never had a problem showing emotion around you, he just preferred to lay in your lap as you both reminisce of the way things were before and you glide your fingers through his messy locks of hair. It calmed you as well, being able to hold him in that way, a way he wouldn't let anyone else.

The winter was colder, so often times Carl would make his way over to where you were sitting on the couch and lay his head down in your lap looking for the comfort that only you could give him. Sometimes he'd fall asleep on you but you didn't mind. You were an insomniac anyways, so having something as soothing as Carl's short and heavy breathing as you lied awake helped you relieve the tension of the day.

"Are you still awake?"

The blue eyed boy looked up at you, finally opening his eyes and letting a tear slip down his cheek. He looked beautiful that way. His eyes were stormy and the light shining in through the windows of your living room cast shadows across his face and made his freckles seem electrified.

"Yes." Was all you replied with. It was all you could reply with since you were still zoned out.

He moved so he was sitting next to you on the couch and eased you down onto his lap so he could return the loving gesture. You made yourself comfortable against the cold denim of his jeans and felt his hands run through your (H/L), (H/C) hair.

"(Y/N), I don't know if I've told you this before, but Robert Smith is a wonderful musician. I can see why you and your dad liked him so much." He said, as you started to fall asleep against him.

"Yeah. He really is. This song reminds me of you."

"How so?"

You sighed. "It's a beautiful irony. Isn't it? The song seems so happy and uplifting at first glance, but there's so much meaning behind the lyrics and the more you think about them the sadder the story gets. But it is also beautiful. It's beautiful in the way that it reminds you of all the times you felt infinite, the times your heart was broken, and the overwhelming sense of being forgotten but then remembering how meaningful love is."

He was silent for a moment before he spoke "I've never had someone understand me on a level that emotional before. It's kind of nice being around you. I don't have to say anything and you've already got me all figured out. It's why I love you."

You felt the importance of his words flow through your mind and travel down every part of your body. It was so nice to be told you're loved and not from your parents. You weren't sure if there was a greater feeling then that of being loved. And you were loved by Carl so it was extra special.

"I love you too Carl."

And with that, you drifted off to sleep, Robert Smith filling your ears with happiness and Carl underneath you, rubbing small circles in your hair and making you feel infinite. You only felt infinite with Carl. Next time you listened to this song, you knew you would be reminiscent of this moment.

(Gifs aren't mine, sorry the story was so short it's currently 4:00 am and I am on day #2 without sleep)

Promise pt.2

PAUL ATREIDES X READER

You were to remain on Arrakis to aid in destroying the Atreides family: a Bene Gesserit trained assassin working for the Harkonnen House. It shouldn't have been hard to kill The Duke Leto's son with your Crysknife, however, love can be messier than blood.

The summery orange sky cast long shadows against the wooden floor, the sun illuminating the sands and everything within the castle as it set across the Arrakis sky. It was warm and comforting, but a reminder of the scorching heat of the outside. Looking out to the distance from the corridor window, one could see the crevices left by the sandworms in their wake; the earth caving in where they had dug through.

Walking Paul through what was once the Harkonnen House, you noticed things about the place that you hadn't before now that you had time to walk around for yourself. For instance, the way the stained glass windows of the downstairs cathedral style rooms created patterns against the ceilings and made everything a rainbow color. Or the way your shoes made noises against the freshly polished wood of certain areas within the home whereas they didn't on the smooth stone. There was a slight breeze that filled the hallways and flew strands of Paul's hair out of his eyes and all around his face. His eyes were a piercing grey-blue with an intensity in them today that you haven't seen in a while. His chiseled features were set in a frown as he glanced about the hallway, looking in any direction other than the one you were in. It was irritating.

"Something on your mind, sir?" You asked the tall boy next to you, awaiting a response.

"I thought I mentioned that we could drop the formalities between us?" He said in a short and curt tone. What was with him today? What had put him in such an agitated mood since leaving the dining hall?

"Forgive me Paul." You said obviously starting to get firey with every word that managed to escape your lips. Why is he being such a..... What did he call it the other day again? Bitchass?

He let out a puff of air and the expression on his face calmed a little. "I apologize for the abruptness, I just came back from an interesting conversation with my father."

His father! You hadn't caught a glimpse of him since the Atreides family had moved in. Always busying himself with the plans to harvest the spice and to keep the Fremens at bay, he was almost invisible.

It was getting harder and harder to accomplish your mission.

"Your father..?" You asked, leaving the conversation open for him to add his own input. If he could give any clues as to where he was or something in regards to strategies the Duke Leto shared with him in private, you might just be able to carry through with the attack before anyone got suspicious.

He pushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes and stopped dead center of the hallway, giving you a clear notion that he wanted you to pause your tour. His fingers twitched at his side and his anxiousness was evident, even through the facade he put on in front of you. You wondered why he would be carefree and heartfelt one moment and then tense and stoic the next. Was he struggling with his duty of becoming heir to the throne? Had his father mentioned something so troubling that things had gone haywire?

"I found a Hunter-Seeker today. It was in my room this morning."

The air around you suddenly felt cold. The comfort of the sunlight was no longer within the corridor as a chill ran down your spine. That wasn't a part of the plan.

"A-a Hunter-Seeker? Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure since I was almost killed." He said with a matter-of-fact tone. So this is what was stressing him.

"Did you contact anyone outside of your intermediate family? Did you talk to the guards? What did Hawat have to say about the ordeal? Is your mother-"

"Ataraxia." He held you down in place sensing your worry. Something about the way he held his palms against your shoulders calmed you down. It was a comforting touch but it could also be deadly if anyone is to see the two of you like this. You are, after all, just supposed to be a servant.

He paused a moment before you looked up at him with fury in your eyes. This isn't how things were supposed to go. You weren't told of there being another assassination attempt for the Atreides family since this was supposed to be your reconciliation with the Harkonnens. This was your ultimate approval of trust.

Maybe you were taking too long.

"Ataraxia? Why do you look angrier than me? I was the one who almost died." He pondered aloud.

Your hand went to caress the hilt of your Crysknife within your pocket to calm yourself. You were letting too much information slip through the cracks by allowing yourself to be upset over this. Paul was right.

"Forgive me. I lost my sense of place."

"It's quite alright. There's no harm in delving into one's own thoughts." He smiled with a pained expression and made a movement to carry on towards the end of the hall. You followed suit.

⏳⏳⏳

You pushed your face down into your pillow that night with an angry scowl and a menacing gaze. This was uncalled for. There was no one within the Harkonnen House that would be fit enough for your position; how could your uncle exile you to your home planet and force you to do his bidding without keeping promise of his reward? It made no sense as you were favored over Feyd-Rautha.

You turn over and stare at the ceiling above you. The maids quarters didn't have the skylight that your old room did; a place where you often found solace. It was impossible trying to sleep in the dingy and unkept room that you were expected to and instead you decided that you were angry enough to break the rules and be less cautious.

You were going to sneak back to your old room tonight.

The Atreides family hadn't used it yet to your knowledge. They had busied themselves with the other floors, being quick to set up offices and bedrooms and not having the time for much else. Hawat chose his own room and his training room on the far side of the House which left the upstairs basically uncharted. You would have to be quick throughout the halls as to not be seen, but once you had made it to the skylight room atop the roof, you would be fine for the night.

Slipping past the other sleeping maids, you made your way to the hall and slipped out the door. The night sky shone in through the many windows of the ancient building; the Arrakian moons almost as luminous as the sun. This moonlight allowed you to see as you slipped through the shadows and made your way to the staircase across from the Dining Hall. Being cautious of each step, you silently compiled yourself and your anxieties with sneaking out as you found the room with the only silver handle in the house. It had to be pushed inwards, not turned. You took a deep breath and allowed yourself to enter.

The skylight was the same as you remembered and as you'd figured, there was not a box in sight. The glass dome showed the stars and the moons of your beloved planet and the galaxies far beyond which were sure to be home to many other living creatures out there. You wondered what the extraterrestrials would be like and you shivered at the thought. Slimy and green you muttered to yourself and you laid on the floor, tilting your vision up to the sky.

"Slimy and green?"

You jolted backwards upon hearing another voice within the room. Twisting your body at a weird angle, you instinctively grab at the knife in it's holster and prepare yourself for a battle.

His brown hair was all curled in awkward places; a difference than it's usual contempt state. His lounge wear hugged his body in ways that were meant to provide utmost comfort, but it was clear that the set was too big for him. His eyes shone through the dark with their familiar friendly yet motivated gaze.

"Paul," you said, lowering your guard, "you scared me."

"My apologies, I promise you that it wasn't my intention." He smiled and positioned himself to lay next to you.

"What brings you up here? I figured everyone would be asleep." You asked. It was slightly annoying having to see him everywhere and never having any time to yourself. You always had to put up a front so that you would be able to carry out your duty in the end. It gets exhausting after a while.

"Should I be asking you the same thing?" He grins again and for a split second you could've sworn that he had made a suggestive look downwards. Just as quickly as his gaze was on you, it was back to the stars ahead and his eyes shone with the luminosity of it all.

"Right. I just- found this place the other day. Thought it would look cooler if I went to see it when the sun wasn't up." You lied straight to his face for what seemed like the millionth time that day. How many more lies would you have to tell?

"I come up here occasionally to watch the stars." He said, patting the space next to him to motion you towards the spot you were originally sitting in.

You calmed down and lowered yourself towards the ground next to the boy you were meant to kill. It felt odd knowing that you were playing a nice conversation with someone who would be bloody by your hands within the next couple of days if you played your cards right. You thought about carrying his beautiful head severed from his petite frame to Vladimir and receiving your reward for pleasing him. You thought about the way he would look next to both Jessica and Leto in the horrible graves of the bodies your uncle dumped when he was done profiting off of their murders. You thought about the smell of his ashes as he burned within the ground and joined the night sky that he looked at now.

And Paul thought of you. He'd hate to admit it, but you had taken over his mind lately. Fierce and opinionated, you were a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't met anyone his age nearly as interesting as they had all been too busy with that cursed Bene-Gesserit crap that he'd been forced to learn at such a young age. You were different.

And while you thought of his blood he thought of your lips. The way they would taste against his own and if you'd even like that. He thought of the way you outshone the stars and your intelligence of the cruelties of the world. Two kids forced to grow up too fast. He felt his chest make crazy palpitations; only something that happened when he was around the erratic Ataraxia. The mysterious girl who shrouded herself in the only darkness this planet had to offer. For once, Paul was thankful they had left Caladan.

You looked so beautiful with your hair sprawled out around you and your face tilted towards the glass above. The light brought out the angles of your face so that Paul could see you in a different way; he was used to seeing your skin kissed with the orange glow of the sun and now he could see the same you but with the silver of the moon. Paul wondered if the Fremen's spice dreams were of things just as beautiful.

The timing was almost so perfect you could feel it on your tongue. One hand on your knife, your mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kill him. With a quick stab under the ribcage, he would be gone in moments. It would be too difficult of a wound to heal medically, and while he was gasping for air you could slit his throat. He was leaning into you and you were leaning into him. Two strikes would be all it took.

The timing was almost so perfect Paul could feel it on his tongue. One hand inching closer to yours, his mind ran crazy with the thoughts of finally being able to kiss you after thinking about it for so long. With a quick shift to his side, he could execute it fast and meaningfully as he hoped you would feel the same passion as him. It would be difficult to convince his parents to let you be with him and he knew he could be facing a lifetime of troubles if he really decided to be with you. There was just something so alluring about it that he couldn't help himself. You were leaning into him and he was leaning into you. One kiss would be all it took for him to know the truth. Was he in love?

One of you with the intent to kill and the other with the intent to love. Either way, it was a dance with death and the game the two of you were playing was dangerous.

Who's heart was going to break first?

⏳⏳⏳

(AN: Part Three coming soon!!! This was a short chapter, but I've been busy with a lot of things and haven't had as much time to write. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for the second part!! Thank you for reading 💛🦐)

Tags: @die-collective

Hello! I'm wondering if you'd accept my request of tasm!Peter with a girlfriend who constantly worries and fussed over his bruises and cuts whenever he comes back from being Spiderman while peter just sits there grinning like an idiot fooling around with her?

tysm this idea is so cute and I didn’t do it justice!

You're half-dressed when Peter gets home.

“Oh, you look nice,” he says.

“The effect of that is kind of lost when you’ve got blood all over you,” you sigh, helping him out of the bedraggled suit. “Pete, is that glass?”

“So much glass,” he agrees, swivelling on his hips to show you. “Swung through a window.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” he agrees with you again.

You retrieve the first aid kit from under the sink and dig until you find a pair of tweezers. You’re turned to the side holding them over the flame of a small lighter when you feel his hands on you.

“My shirt looks good on you,” he says.

“Boo. Awful. Stop touching me, I’m trying to sanitise,” you say.

His fingers press into the soft curve of your hip. You squirm out of his grip because you know if you let him touch you, let him melt you down, his side will heal with little shards of glass still inlaid while you’re distracted.

You make him lie down on a clean towel on the bed and perch over one of his legs. This is enough excitement for him to start wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Pete,” you chide, tilting your head to one side so you can get a better look at his side.

None of his cuts are bleeding anymore, and that’s the problem. You go for the little pieces first, the ones that are almost all healed, and Peter doesn’t flinch even as pinpricks of fresh blood bloom in their wake. His hands are soothing you if anything, tentative fingertips pushing over your face. You ignore him as best you can.

You wince as a bigger piece pulls free and blood rises to the surface, a crimson bead rolling over his rusty skin. You wipe at the wound with a tissue, hand shaking. Invisible to the naked eye but not his, Peter catches your trembling fingers in his and lays them flat over his abdomen.

“Relax,” he whispers in good humour.

“You’re slowing me down.”

“It’ll still be there after you give me a kiss,” he tells you.

“I’m not giving you any kisses until you're glass-free.”

“You don’t need to worry so much.”

You look at the purple yellow bruise amassed over his right shoulder, the blood streaking the skin of his abdomen and the cut at the corner of his mouth and raise your eyebrows.

He’s beaming at you.

“You look stunning right now,” he says, pulling your leg so you fall into his chest. You gasp and hold yourself off of his glass splinters.

“Peter, you’re being a total jerk.”

His hands slide up your waist, stop dangerously close to your chest. “Tell me all about it, pretty girl.”

“I’m trying, if you’d just,” he kisses you, you return without thinking and then pull away, “let me.” He catches you for a second kiss. A hand slips under your shirt. You groan against his lips in defeat and feel his own curve into a smirk.

“Got you,” he says, chuckling.

Hello I need bullet train fic like I need air thank you

Me too, I'm so in love with Bullet Train, prepare yourself because I'll be writing more fics!!

💛🦐

Yessss you’re writing for bullet train! Do you take requests for Ladybug?

YES ABSOLUTELY OMG

Send me your wildest dreams, I'm going to write a shit ton of Bullet Train fics!!!!

💛🦐

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Just the Three of Us

Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson

Fandom: Stranger Things

AU: Soulmate

Summary: After crashlanding in the mystical magical world of the 1980s, you discover that you have not one, but two soulmates and they are determined to take the best care of you they possibly can.

Note: Takes place sometime after Season 4 I guess?? Everyone lives and is happy (even though we don’t have those answers yet lmao). Also, yes another Soulmate AU. So sorry, but I am trash. Consider this my apology for discontinuing Stranded lol.

Warnings: poly fluff, swearing

Word Count: 3.2k

Reader Is: Female

Holy fuck, did your head hurt. Your ears were ringing really loudly and everything was black. Add to the list your limbs felt like they were full of sand and you were not having a good time. After a long moment, the ringing began to subside enough to make out some (unfamiliar) voices, who seemed to be bickering above you somewhere.

“She needs to go to a hospital. Like, now.” One of the voices argued. “Look at her.”

“And tell them what, Steve, that she fell from the sky?” Another voice, this one younger, replied.

“I don’t know, man, I think Harrington’s right. She doesn’t look so good.” A third voice, this one a bit deeper than either of the others, said. “Add to that the fact that she fell from the fucking sky.”

You tried your best to lift your eyelids, but everything was so heavy. Too heavy to move.

Keep reading

Y o u n g L o v e

Pairing: Tate Langdon X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: none ⚠️

Listen to this song while you read:

You slipped into the cold black sheets that adorned your mattress as you prepared yourself for sleep. It was an autumn night and you were ready to fall asleep listening to the rain patter against the glass of your bedroom window. The red panes cast an eerie glow over everything and made your room illuminated in the color. There was something soft and beautiful about it; something you couldn't put your finger on that made you feel as though you were safe and comfortable. Ironically, you were living in a house full of ghosts.

But they were not bad.

Your head hit the pillow and your eyes met the ceiling. It had only been a month since you've moved into the infamous Murder House, yet you were content. The house may have been old and the people may have been rude, but you found yourself here. And you were grateful.

"Hey."

You felt the bed dip next to you and you moved over to the left side to make room for Tate as you participated in your nightly routine. His hand met your back as your face met his chest, your hands reaching up to play with his hair. This is where you felt the safest. Surrounded by the smell of cigarettes and the cashmere of your boyfriend's sweater. The feeling of a now warm bed and the arms resting delicately over your frame. You wouldn't trade this for the world.

Tate kissed you softly on the head; the rain crashing against your window as the storm's intensity increased. Thunder rolled in and made the quiet house alive with the noise of the sky and the universe above. And amongst it all; you were holding your favorite part of the universe in your arms. His short breaths hitting the top of your head and the sound of his heartbeat resonating through his chest signifying that he was both comfortable and in love.

"Hey. Enjoying the rain?" You softly asked him.

He smiled and let out a short laugh. "Of course I am."

He moved your hair out of your face so that he could look you in the eyes. Tate has done a lot of bad in this world. He wasn't always the sweet and loving person you knew him as today. There was a time when his name brought people fear and pain instead of admiration and peace. You were lucky to know him now; you had gone most of your life thinking that people could never change but here he was. Living proof that people aren't always what they seem.

"I love you so much." He said as his gaze met yours. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world." He planted another kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you once more in his arms. In his mind, that's exactly where you belonged, even though there were times where he didn't believe he deserved to have you there. Times when he was alone and found his thoughts drifting to you as they usually did. Times when he saw you leave the house and remembered that you were very much alive. That you still had things to do and people to meet and experiences to have. He felt so selfish for keeping you to himself sometimes knowing that the house was all he could offer you besides from himself. And it crushed him.

As guilty as he felt, having you here tonight made all of his negative thoughts disperse. What had he been so nervous of? Why had he originally fought against the idea of loving you when he first saw you move in? Why had he tried to avoid every attempt of contact you made? Why did he try to convince you that your feelings for him were invalid because you didn't know the truth? It was only when you did find out and you agreed to continue loving him that he let his walls come crashing down.

You still loved him despite his past and the people he's hurt. You still offered to be here and to hold him on nights like these where the loneliness oftentimes took over. You still wore his sweaters and snuggled with him when he felt anxious. You still danced to Nirvana even though it wasn't your taste in music. You still wanted him. And that was more than he could ever ask for.

"Are you okay?" You asked, reaching up to touch his face.

"I'm absolutely perfect."

Lying there, you both fell asleep holding each other and letting the rain drown out the sound of your hearts beating for young love.

Dating Tyler Durden Would Include...

As requested by: @hyuugasmary

Just some headcannons for dating the world's most chaotic character!

⚠️ Warnings: mentions of death, sexual innuendos⚠️

Tyler Durden is a man who is very in-tune with his feelings. He doesn't deny himself the simpler pleasures of existence and knows where his priorities lie. Therefore, when he figured out he had the hots for you and realized your intellect was something he clicked with, he made you his.

Part of me thinks he was slightly forceful about it. If you had denied his request when he first popped the question, he would've done everything in his power to show you that he could be the person you needed. For example, if you're someone who cares more for physicality in a relationship, he would allow you to watch him kick ass in Fight Club. If you're someone who cares more for personality and intuition, he would focus more on showing you just how intelligent he could be. Either way, he has both looks and smarts so you'd be getting both in the end.

If you had said yes without any hesitation, he would've admired your eagerness and would show it back to you in abundance.

So now, how would you fit into your boyfriend's overarching hatred of the patriarchy and his plans for mass destruction? Simple. You would just be there to offer him support through his ideology and provide him with affection while he makes nitroglycerin. He loves your imagination and your intensity when it comes to arson and sex.

Fight Club is no different; you appreciate the way Lou's Tavern quickly becomes a safe haven for you and the boys, all of whom treat you with utmost respect. I mean, they have to considering the fact that you're their leader's love interest. They allow you to watch from outside of the circle to engage you in the activity, but will never allow you to fight since they know Tyler wouldn't allow a single scratch on your body....unless it came from him.

Tyler wants someone to be on his level of bad-assery. Sure, he wants to protect you and keep you safe but he lets you start any fight or argument just as long as he was right by your side to finish it for you. He wants someone with an internal flame and a passion for watching the world burn.

While you're staying with him on Paper Street in the early days of Project Mayhem, the Space Monkeys instantly refer to you as Second in Command. If you identify as female, you're usually met with "Mrs. Durden" whereas if you identify as a male or somewhere in between, you're met with "Mr. Durden #2."

Tyler lets you harass the newcomers on the porch saying that "you'd teach them a better lesson than I could since they'd be staring at you anyways." But still offers to beat anyone up if they glance at you in a suggestive way.

Nights with Tyler are spent hunched over pots of the latest soap mix; gagging at the smell of the liposuction bags as you pull them out from the fridge. Tyler plays his music which is something with a sharper edge to it since he is very much into the punk genre, but I also have a feeling he would also play a lot of Depeche Mode.

On the nights where he didn't desire to blow things up in the morning, he would stay with you in his room, wrapping you up in his arms and playing with your hair while you fell asleep. He would never be cold to you but he would spend a lot of time on his "homework assignments" and phoning in on the other clubs set up in different states. He would tell you what was on his mind as he thought of it, but the nights where he felt really comfortable, he would let his anxieties and insecurities show just a little bit more than usual since he trusts you not to judge him. Which you don't.

During the day, you would usually watch him in the basement of Lou's Tavern as he prepared for another club session later that evening. You would also tag along with him when he worked in the theatre while he spliced single frames of pornography into family films. You usually picked out the lewd images since the two of you would crack up when kids started to cry.

Bonus!

Patching up Tyler's wounds after an intense session of Fight Club, scolding him for going too hard and overexerting himself.

Wearing Tyler's infamous coffee mug printed robe in the mornings.

Dancing with Tyler to no music in corridors of fully populated buildings for absolutely no reason other than self amusement.

Calling your boyfriend Mr. Durden once on accident since it's all you heard on a daily basis and him laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

Both of you hating pet names but you call each other "babe." He will occasionally call you "love" but only in the bedroom or times where there's no one else around. It's not that he's embarrassed, he just likes the exclusivity.

Having him tell you about his scars while you trace over them on his bare skin, admiring every inch of the beautiful man before you.

One time you got into a fight with Angel Face (Jared Leto's character) and he pushed you. Tyler beat his face in so hard that the blonde had to use his $300 of personal burial money a bit sooner than he anticipated.

Tyler will teach his "life lessons" when you're around but he would never dream of putting you in danger. His near-life experiences are only for the times he knows you're sound asleep safe at home in his bedroom.

Tyler is just a little bit more cautious about how much trouble he really gets into, knowing that he can't die when he has you to come back to every night.

And last but not least...

Tyler wears your clothes. You saw how he dressed in the movie with his Goodwill attire? Yeah. He doesn't care much for fashion or practicality so he will 100% walk to his job as a banquet waiter in your cutoff pink shirt with a shrimp on it.

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had a lot of fun with this one! >:)

💛🦐