#How the fuck an i supposed to be independent when I'm scared to even get part time employment

[thateclecticbitch]

Fucking hell man I'm NEVER gonna be able to move out if this keeps happening

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.6 FINAL)

What does Jason do after he secures his spot as your number one person and you slowly but surely grow up into an independent teen..? Wait, stop, you're not supposed to do that. You're his baby. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader / Batfamily & Child GN!Reader

Okay, let's be honest here, Jason would hate how fast time flies

As busy as he'd be splitting his life between vigilante work and fatherhood, taking down crazy new villains, attending to your school events, catching up with his friends, going on family vacations, Jason would 100% still notice how fast you were growing

By the way he'd have to often buy you new clothes because of your growth spurt

And how the current mark on the wall where he measured your height was inches apart from the first one he made

You were spending more time with your friends, the things you were getting interested in made no sense to him, and you wouldn't go to him to take care of your hair as much as you used to

It fucking terrified Jason

He hated it, so much

While he was proud and absolutely thrilled that you were independent, confident, and a hell of a charmer, he also wanted his baby back

The little brat who barely came up to his elbows

The one who'd cling to his legs whenever he told you to clean your room and would get dragged around

Hell, he really missed how you'd fit so easily in his arms as he carried you around

You still fit, he was a big guy after all, but for you it'd be a bit embarrassing for your dad to carry you around like that

Teenagers and embarrassment, am I right?

Now in his late twenties and over all that anger inside him, Jason would probably whine about it to his family

"I mean, how can someone grow so fast? It makes no fucking sense!"

"Jason, it's been five years, kids grow."

"Thanks Captain Obvious, but mine shouldn't!"

"What? You wanted the kid to be eleven forever?"

"..."

"Jay..."

"Shut the fuck up."

Somehow, being so lonely and melancholic over watching you sprout and bloom, Jason would even end up bonding a little with Bruce

Think about it, at this point Bruce would already be in his sixties or something, so Cass would've taken over the mantle by then

I'd imagine he'd still work as intelligence for the League but with Cass as the Hero of Gotham and Tim as the CEO of Wayne Industries, the old bat would have a lot of time in his hands

Which he'd spend around his family and grandkid

And when Bruce noticed Jason's pouty and broody demeanor when you were texting a friend, he couldn't help but laugh

"Now you know how I feel."

"It's different. It's going too fast."

"Son, I watched all of you leave the manor in less than fifteen years, it's always too fast."

Begrudgingly, Jason listened to Bruce's advice, that same old anxiety rising up in his chest, leaving him vulnerable and restless

"The best thing you can do is talk to your kid. I learned it the hard way with all of you and I know things would've been different if I had reached out sooner."

Jason couldn't deny that, even if the look in his old man's face did make his chest hurt a little

It's not like he hadn't thought about it, to be honest, you two always had a very open and communicative relationship

That was the exact reason why you two trusted each other implicitly and barely ever had any fights

But he was scared, downright terrified that you would confirm his fears

Just imagining you saying "I'm fifteen, dad, of course I'm not gonna hang out as much with you anymore." already broke his heart

So after whining a little to anyone near him and almost getting stabbed by Damian for "being such a clueless moron", Jason decided to put his big, grown ass adult pants and talk to you

It would be during a late afternoon, when the sun is setting and you had decided to make dinner tonight while Jason set the table

He'd run his hand through his hair once, then twice, maybe even thrice, and ask without looking at you

"Are you embarrassed of me?"

You'd almost burn yourself by whipping your head so hard Jason thought you'd snap your neck

"What?"

Ok, so they were doing this

Cool. Cool cool cool.

It was now or never

"You've been spending a lot of time away, always on your phone, we– uh, we haven't matched or hung out in a while either so– I get it, kid, I know you wouldn't want to–"

"Wait, stop, are you serious?"

Uh, oh, you were using the same tone as Damian

Like you thought he was the dumbest being to walk on earth

Damn that little demon for corrupting you

"I was just wondering, okay? I understand if–"

"No– dad, what? I thought you were busy!"

"What?"

Let's rewind a bit

You'd always been pretty attached to Jason, always glued to his hip, mimicking his mannerisms and speech

Steph even called you "mini Red Hood" when you started to unconsciously copy the way your old man dressed and his slangs

It was terribly cute for everyone

And you were proud of it! You were!

Jason was your hero, your favorite person, your dad

You wanted to be like him and you weren't ashamed of it, not even when Damian tried making fun of you

Because he was a dirty Batman wannabe and nobody liked those

He was your best friend and confidant, the one adult you'd trust fully without questions, always by his side and supporting him through everything

Except for that one time playing monopoly but that was Cass's influence

You owned Red Hood merch, you liked spending weekends and holidays with him, you matched your tastes and likes to everything Jason liked because it was Jason and you wanted to be closer to him

Birthdays could end up being just the two of you and you'd still be thrilled to have your dad around (even if the other bats would never allow such sad little party)

You had around nine years of experience with shitty adults, so excuse you for being overjoyed that your real dad was someone worth loving fully and irrevocably

But everything changed when you turned fourteen and the kids in your class started acting... weird

"Urgh, my mom is so embarrassing."

"My dad keeps calling me little princess even though I told him to stop!"

"Why are parents so cringe."

Apparently, disliking your parents made you cool in middle school

But that's not what changed things

It was when your friends laughed at you for talking so much about Jason, asking you if your old man even had time to do other things when you kept clinging to him

Which... you had never thought about

In all honesty, being around your dad was so natural at that point, always in his field of vision, relating random things to him, texting one word messages just to check in, that you hadn't realized you've might have been hogging his attention too much

Some unease and insecurities wormed their way inside your vulnerable teen heart and you convinced yourself you had been taking too much of your father's time

You couldn't even remember the last time he hung out with his best friend

What if he became sick of you?

What if he was already annoyed?

That terrified you, it truly did

Long story short, you forced yourself to change a little, keeping a bit more distance, not being as needy or clingy

You even started doing your hair by yourself, which sucked so much ass

You never realized how much thought and care your dad put in taking care of you

It made you miss him even more, but you wanted to be a good kid and let your dad have some freedom

He was still in his 20s after all!

And with him a bit more involved with his vigilante side of life, going to the manor more often, and the rise in criminal activity, you had assumed he was busy being an adult

Which, eurgh, you missed him so bad

But you were being a good child!

So much for that

By the time you finished explaining your side of things, after the two of you stared at each other for long moments, Jason was left with his head in his hands

He made a noise akin to a deflating balloon, his shoulders slumping

Good god, the two of you were embarrassing

He loved you

So fucking much

Jason thought his heart would explode

He could've been a little upset that you didn't just... talk to him but then again, he also didn't talk to you

Like father, like kid

"You're so stupid!"

Your laughter warmed his heart as he grabbed you by the shoulders and wrapped you in a bear hug, squeezing you tightly

Yep, you still fit perfectly in his arms

"Says the one who listened to the words of fourteen year olds!"

"I was also fourteen!"

Even though you two bickered and grumbled, his sigh of relief in your hair was very telling

And so was the way you clung to him tightly

God, he had missed his kiddo so much

"Never do that to me again, okay? Babies shouldn't grow so fast."

"I'm fifteen, dad."

"And you're also cute and short, so you're still my baby."

"Everyone is short when you're six foot."

"Thank the pit for that."

"I don't think I will, actually."

That night, after the two of you ate your somewhat burnt dinner, Jason carried you to the couch despite your whining and cuddled you as you picked your movie of choice

You did grow, currently in that awkward teen phase with growing pains and longer limbs, but the way you tucked your head beneath his chin was still the same

The way you looked at him, eyes filled with happiness and adoration, was still the same

Your laugh and sharp words, how you still reacted the same way to certain scenes, your mannerisms, attitude, innocence

Sure, you were growing wonderfully

And you definitely mirrored him a lot more than you knew

But Jason had been a fool for thinking you were changing

You were still his baby, the mean kid with a soft heart, rough past, and dirty mouth he grew to love so much he didn't know what to do with himself

And to know that distance between you two had been manipulated and not purposeful ripped his anxiety right out of his chest

You wanted to be by his side just as much

You loved him just as much

And he couldn't ask for more

"You will let me do your hair tomorrow though, you fucking suck at it."

"Suck a bag of dicks, dad."

"Love you too, brat."

The end.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

your toxic könig is so perfect and the more recent posts made me think about a similar kind of au but with gromsko. like god i need this man to """force""" me into being his perfect little wife i swear.

AND IM SO SORRY but being slavic also makes this even more feral for me because i imagine the second his gf shows a bit too much independence/DARES to talk over him (yeah it's an achievement to be able to talk over him, the mf is LOUD)/etc he just. goes feral like he sees it as a challenge and he needs to show her what a slavic woman is actually supposed to be like.

but slavic or not he'll keep holding the fact that he "tamed" you over your head even when he's fucking you. talks about how this is your place, this is where you belong and how he's going to make sure you remember by breeding you full.

Omg Gromsko OMG

I'm so normal about him yes yes it's just your ask that made me this way ^^ I'm blaming you my dear anon 💕

CW: Protective & possessive behavior, implied sexism

So, Gromsko. Your car broke down in the middle of the road and this absolute bear of a Pole pulls over to help you. He has a charming smile, sure, but he's also obnoxiously bold. That casual masculine bravado makes you feel weaker than it should; there's this aura of shameless pride about him, and you can't quite decide if it's annoying or sexy.

You try to tell him you can handle it, that the repair guy is already on his way. But Gromsko? Hah. He just bypasses that shit. Pops up the hood and gets to work. The car is fixed in no time, and the next thing you know is that you just said yes when "Sobieslaw Kościuszko, pleasure to meet you, miss," asked if he could take you out to dinner this evening.

And it's true that he's loud. Like, why does he have to talk by half shouting...? (Probably because he has to make it known that he's the strongest, most virile male in the area.)

Sobieslaw always sits with a wide spread, with a broad, tall chest, with a confidence that seems to come naturally to him. He never tries to make himself smaller, no matter how crammed a space is. Everyone except the elderly has to move aside when he walks because he's not going to dodge or sidestep. You're not the only one who fears he will eventually break one of those dainty little chairs in the fine dining place he brought you to; the waiter side eyes this man like he's some beast that somehow got in and should be caged, not fed.

Despite all that brass, Gromsko is a proper gentleman. Always opens the doors for you, always pays at a restaurant. And always grabs your waist and draws you closer if there are other men around. Guy looks like he's ready to get into a fist fight for you if it comes to that.

It's kind of hair-raising how he laughs at the very concept of independent woman. His woman should never have to be "independent." It would be an insult to him as a man if his wife had to go to work.

He tells you how beautiful you are with intensity and passion that seems to come from another age. That boundless adoration makes you feel drunk, and Gromsko doesn't seem to notice anyone else but you – it's like all other women have disappeared from this planet.

He lays siege to you like crusaders of old laid siege to a city. You never have to fear whether you're coming off as too interested or eager or that you'll "scare" him away: this man is always more interested and eager than you. Still, you fear that everything will come to an end once you give this man what he wants – namely, sex.

You couldn't be more wrong! He's not fucking around, and he's not dating for the sake of getting laid. He's looking for a wife and a mother for his kids.

An infuriatingly sexy, uneven smile spreads across his face everytime you meet. He's checking you out, and he's utterly shameless about it. You're being rated like cattle, and it should not send butterflies to your stomach when you notice he seems to more than just approve of your hips and breasts. Little do you know Sobieslaw Kościuszko has already decided you're to be his wife.

When you finally spread your legs for this man, you expect him to fuck you with the urgency and attentiveness of a 20-year old hockey player. But Gromsko is actually a skilled lover! You don't know why and you don't know how, but he seems to decode you and all your weaknesses in record time. Hot kisses and intense love making are his bravura. Gromsko is so attuned to you and your pussy that it should be illegal.

It's like the gods made this man to breed women and spread his seed because he has the biggest balls you've ever seen. He doesn't grow all too soft after climaxing, and continues to fuck you even after you both just came. With sloppy patience, sure, because you're practically begging for mercy under him… but the point is that he just won't stop. He continues to pump you with strong hips and infinite stamina, and groans how perfect you are as you approach your second orgasm.

He places so much trust on his cock that, perhaps surprisingly, you're the first woman he has ever put his mouth on. It's the only thing that makes that eternal shield of pride tilt aside a bit, because he hates it when he doesn't know what he's doing… but neither is he a man who backs down when faced with a challenge!

He doesn't know what he's doing, which means he takes a mental note of every single thing that makes you shiver and sigh. This Polish bear learns to please you and just you, examines how you respond to slow licks and fast laps, sucks on your nub until you cry, and when he sees how much you enjoy his treatment, this man goes crazy.

"You like that, kochanie?" He pants between your legs, drunk on your pussy, swearing in Polish and giving lewd comments about how wet you are. He only ups the pace with his tongue when you cum. You're an overstimulated mess, but he's not done. He crawls on top of you and gets down to business with his thick cock, those heavy balls start to slap against your soaked flesh until you feel like you have no brains left.

"It's easier to just stop fighting, kotku," he seems to approve of your wet, moaning state more than anything. But it's the wickedly pleased gruff of "Let's get married, Słoneczko," that sends you spiraling into another overstimulated, glorious orgasm.

You don't even know that he's already told his whole family about you. You don't yet know that his grandmother already loves you. But it starts to dawn on you that you got more than you bargained for when Gromsko informs you that he'll take you to Poland but only as his wife.

Perhaps that's where this man's charm lies! Gromsko simply knows what he wants: a good loyal wife and a nice, large family. If you can give them to him, he's not wasting any time getting you pregnant. You're knocked up before you even know it, there's a ring on your finger before you get to say Na Zdrowie. You're his little wife now, and there's nothing you can do about it ❤️

[casperflashprizrak]

I really love thinking about how overprotective the trio may be towards Casper, That idea is always spinning around in my head, I'm really passionate about thinking that Casper is easy to lose if they don't protect him excessively.

I'm so happy to know that you're back, I love all your work, I'm always following it, and if one day I don't see you here, I'll be very calm about what you told me now.

Casper is my passion! If one day I manage to realize my ideas in a drawing, believe me, you will be the first to see it.

О, yeah, of course I noticed that you like the hyper-parenting uncle theme, and you know what, it's reflected in my version. I did a whole presentation on it.

So, in fact, only Edward aka Stretch, who is not self-appointed, but by right of seniority the most important in the family, suffers from hyper-parenting. He tries to control Casper, who is always trying to find adventures for his ghostly little ass.

The other two uncles are supposed to keep an eye on Casper too, but they're usually busy figuring things out. Especially when Edward isn't home, they get into fights without rules, and it scares the kid a lot. He's often stressed out at home because of his uncles' antics, because they're fucking psychopaths, which Fox constantly reminds him of.

Casper, by the way, Fox also has a problem with a hepero-parent/close relative. Fox sets Casper up to be independent, so the uncles forbid Casper from even getting close to the redhead.

All because Edward is not satisfied with an unobedient child, he is greatly annoyed by the non-poninovniye. And the more Casper resists, the harder Edward will take measures.

Thanks, I'm glad you like my drawings! I'm looking forward to yours!

You guys can do your ideas right now and put them on the internet! Why are you putting it off? What are you waiting for?

[mommy-daddy-issues-poll]

Red Son (Lego Monkie Kid) Propaganda

"This guy's got Mommy and Daddy issues up the wazoo, like, his Dad was imprisoned for *500* years under a magical seal leaving him to be raised by his mom. Well, it's heavily implied that he was at least mentally abused by his mother, for how often she belittles and condescends to him. (like seriously her term of endearment for him is '[her] sweet useless boy') leaving him with such a drive to prove himself that this kid SINGLEHANDEDLY frees his father from his magical restraints, something that was implied to be basically impossible for those 500 years because he SCIENCED the shit out of magic until magic had to give way, and my man didn't even get a single 'thank you' from either his mother OR his recently freed father.

it's implied that his father has trauma, or was just following the example his mom laid out, and even in flashback it's implied he actually was quite a good father to Red Son before his imprisonment, but as things are now he's VERY much just as bad as his wife. He openly calls his son a failure, makes it CLEAR that love is fully conditional (like there's a scene when another villain was chasing after Red Son, and his Dad immediately calls him 'worthless offspring' until its revealed that that villain didn't manage to catch him and Red got away to which his dad IMMEIDATLEY goes 'never doubted him for a second' and it's funny but it's also fucked up bc later on it's basically pulling teeth for him to even call Red his 'son' (and Red is so excited about it too like he sincerely hasn't heard his father even so much as claim him as his own))

There's an entire sequence where Red is invested in a certain competition that neither of his parents are interested in, only when after he storms out his parents decide to involve themselves in the competition independent of Red specifically because they knew if they did it would upset him

At one point his father gets possessed by an evil entitity and goes into a whole tirade on how worthless Red is and he just stands there and accepts it and you get the feeling that very little of this is anything he hasn't heard before. he's not even shocked at some of the shit coming out of his father's mouth until accusations of him betraying the family start getting thrown around

Anyway get Red Son out of that household pls and thankyou"

"Red Son’s father was sealed under a mountain for the majority of his life, and lived with his mother up until very recently. His mother can be seen grabbing at his face and calling him a “sweet, USELESS boy” to his face, and otherwise being similarly cruel to him.

When his father is once again back in his life, Red Son is notably scared of his father, and this fear lingers even after his father seemingly takes steps to try and improve. It’s implied that his father had never called him “son” before he took these steps.

Much of Red Son’s character revolves around his inferiority complex which stems from how his parents treat him as useless and stupid. Both of his parents have called him useless in canon at least once, and they both joined a race neither had interest in for the specific expressed purpose of crushing Red Son’s ambitions of winning the race, and no other reason. (Canon dialogue also includes Red Son angrily saying, “Oh, so I guess I'm supposed to make barbeque for peasants, with little, unworthy, disappointing tastebuds-” before looking away suddenly, shrinking in on himself, and saying in a sudden sad tone of voice “- who shame their fathers…” before immediately going back to anger in the following dialogue without missing a beat.)

TLDR get this demon a therapist on GOD"

"This guy. This g u y.... The sole son of the renowned Demon Bull Family, the child of a Celestial maiden and a demon king, so ferociously powerful they had to nerf him when he was a baby so he now has an instinctive deep seated inferiority complex. It's not just that though- his relationship to his parents when we first meet him is. B-A-D BAD. His father immediately focuses on his failures from the moment he's revived, his mother calls him useless and demeans him on multiple occasions, and it's taken FOUR DAMN SEASONS for their actions toward him to be called anywhere NEAR ""loving & caring"". It's literally such a mess, and their growth is very slow and in the background so it's agonizing on top of that. Red Son never really has a confrontation episode, just... Keeps trying so so hard, and sometimes it gets him recognition, so he drives himself deeper into trying harder. It's awful honestly. So yeah this guy has so many issues and I blame his family for like 80% of them "

“hes the silliest guy ever. hes a wet cat. hes a bug on the pavement. he skitters and scampers. both of his parents patronize him at best and go out of their way to cause problems for him. he wants to live up to their ideals and expectations but all he does is fail, causing him to double down and fail Even Harder. one of his parents is a demon bull, making him technically a cow boy.”

“He's so sillay <3 his parents are so mean to him I want better for him”

“RedSon is the son of PIF and DBK (acronyms). He is shown to suffer from emotional abuse and often seeks out validation from his family. The fandom is currently coping with the fact that RedSon's emotional turmoil may never come to a satisfying end in the source material (which is a shame). Apart from that the source material doesn't focus a lot on the DBK family structure and when it does (mainly in Season 1) we saw the emotional damage in RedSon's psyche and life. This leads us to understand very little of the emotional damage RedSon suffers from and why it happened. Due to this, I believe that RedSon should win due to him despite suffering from emotional turmoil is one of the coolest characters the fandom has recieved that turned from a villain into a hero.”

[graylinesspam]

I've been trading existential dread with my queerplatonic wife for a while now. Because she's dealing with the crazy world of dating as a pretty queer girl in Texas. And I'm somewhere in a pit about my AroAce identity and the fact that I can't live independently from my parents now. (yes I know that's a capatilist ploy but I'm a hyper independent oldest daughter that was supposed to have my life together by know before surprise disability wrecked all of my dreams. So give me a while to mourn please.)

And one of the things she's helped me put into words is about how fucking lonely and useless and pathetic I feel. Because, most people, especially women, my age start to deal with their physical and mental restrictions with the support of a partner. I mean early twenties is peak, "we're both fucked up and afraid but at least we have each other," years.

And being an AroAce person, I don't have that option as readily available. I don't have people who are willing to support me, and spend time with me, and help me figure myself out. Because I'm not trading sex and romantic connection.

I'm in desperate need of human connection. Of a place to live outside my childhood home. Of emotional support. Of someone to listen to me rant at 10 p.m. And hold my hand when I'm scared and encourage me to better myself. To push myself to grow under these near impossible conditions. And I don't have that.

I can't rely on my family. Not because their bad people but because they're similarly isolated and emotionally neglected people that are hanging on by a thread and have been for most of my life. But at least my parents have each other.

I'm starting to get scared that I'll never find that connection. Because I need so much, and I can't offer the basic currency that people my age trade in.

Most of the time I like to think of that as a good thing. I don't need to worry about who I do or don't fall for because it'll never happen. I don't have to worry about 'losing the spark' or falling out of love with someone. Because I won't ever love them in such a flimsy way. I can focus on my try compatibility with my future partners. Our emotional and physical needs. Our preferences. Our boundaries, and similar interests.

But that's optimistic future me who has a job and a car, whose been through therapy, and figured themselvs out, and isn't a burden in a relationship. That's not now me. Now me is not someone I would ever consider dating and asking anyone else to date me feels so unfair. Like I'm taking advantage of them. Like I don't have enough to offer in return. (again hyper independence.)

And part of me wants so badly to just going to give in and take the first offer. To just say the right things and put out and pretend like I can connect with someone in a way I so clearly cannot.

I know in the future I will have so much to offer if I can just make it there. But that feels impossible to do on my own. And quite frankly I just don't have anyone.

But it isn't fair to myself or to anyone else for me to knowingly lie to them to receive the support I need. And I couldn't mentally handle it even if I tried.

It's just so hard to build relationships with other people when you don't have that foundation of attraction that everyone seems to think is so intricate to human connection.

I want a relationship built on respect and meeting each others needs. And communication and support. I want to be adult and mature about this. But the truth of the matter is that I am young and alone and lost. And I need help. I don't have hardly anything to offer and need so much.

And I don't know how I'm ever going to get to the point that I can offer anyone anything if I don't get my needs met.

So I'm spinning my wheels in fucking predatory right now.

And I'm trying to be so proud of my identity this June. But sometimes it's hard.

As much time as I spend advocating to baby aces that it will get better and you absolutely don't need to ignore it or pretend. That people will understand. That you will find that connection you need. Sometimes it's so fucking hard to remember that for myself. I'm not over the struggle yet. And frankly, I'm scared all the time.

It's just the way that identity has intersected with all the other parts of my life in the most inconvenient way possible. I'm fucking poor, too autistic to drive, chronically fatigued with serious joint issues, and fucking alone. Everything sucks right now.

[mischas]

Ah, thank you for your thoughts! I've read it and will re-read a few more times. Would love your thoughts on the lifeguard scene in 3.02 - which I think is the last time they are there together? - Marissa is so mature and understanding, I find it frustrating. I want Ryan to have to explain himself to Marissa but he never does. It's interesting how S1 Ryan is so protective of her and in S3 how he completely fails to understand her and is shut down completely.

I wanted to answer this when I had more time so sorry for the wait! I promise I wasn't ignoring it. Technically they are there together in 3x19 when Ryan is brooding about Sadie leaving and Marissa shows up. He's undoubtedly waiting for Marissa IMO, knowing it's her sacred spot. But I digress.

The lifeguard stand scene in 3x02 needs to be viewed independently of the fight scene that precedes it but they are important to one another. Sandy tells Ryan to go back and listen, and Ryan doesn't really do that, but instead gives us his POV on how he thinks this is his mess to fix. And it's the most we get from him about that whole situation so we have to take it at face value but also contextualize it with how he's been acting. I like that he opens up about being scared of screwing up the chance the Cohens gave him by taking him in. I don't think the show was this intellectual but we could possibly connect this to his s2 characterization. Maybe he thought the Theresa situation at the end of s1 was his 'screw up' and he told himself if he were to somehow make it back to Newport he'd keep his head low and avoid confrontation. I'm not sure, but maybe.

Ryan viewing the shooting as his fault, thus "Now I screwed things up for you" tells us that he really does put this on himself. The entire thing. And he shouldn't. He knows Marissa had no choice but to pull that trigger. When she says in 3x02, "So I was supposed to watch you die?" I think Ryan is really shook that she put it so plainly. Ryan approached the fight in 3x02 with rose-colored glasses and I think he was avoiding that Trey was truly killing him. So Ryan knows she saved him, and feels like he put her in that position. I think his shame in that is partly why he kept his distance during the summer. Not just 'I brought Trey into your life but I made you care for me enough to shoot a fucking gun at someone's back' Like, that's fucking love. And it's an overwhelming feeling.

The earlier fight scene has shades of blame he harbors for Marissa, which he is also ashamed of. No matter what, Ryan still finds it hard to let Trey go and be honest about who Trey is as a person. Thus "There are consequences for me too, he was my brother." He saw the fight between the two of them as back to their old ways, hashing it out with their fists, and in some ways it wasn't even about Marissa's assault. It was the idea that Trey threatened the life Ryan had made for himself. Breaking the trust of the Cohens and of course assaulting Marissa. But it became an allegory for taking from Ryan. In 2x24 Trey says "Yeah, well, you have the good life" and it tells us that Trey's pre-meditated assault did at least partly come from a place of wanting to hurt Ryan. Because he's jealous that Ryan has this new life. This new chosen family. This privilege. Like I said in my 3x01 analysis, Trey can pull Ryan's strings pretty easily. No matter how mad Ryan got at Trey in s2 pre-assault, he always came back around. Other characters interfered, sure, but Ryan knew how manipulated he'd been in the past by his brother but kept forgiving him and kept believing in him. Trey doing what he did meant that the cycle was supposed to stop, that Ryan was supposed to feel comfortable cutting Trey off in his heart. But it wasn't so easy, which is where that 3x02 fight comes in. He snaps, and he knows it was a shitty thing to say but at least it was honest.

"I don't need you to protect me. I don't now and I didn't then" says Marissa. AKA you didn't need to go fight Trey. And in some ways she's blaming him too, which is a thought I don't consider often when I think about s3. We know she's not a fan of his fighting and never has been. I love this scene because we actually get some perspective into how they're both feeling and something RM needed to do was verbally communicate. And they're both ashamed of the things they say.

When it comes to the lifeguard stand, they've both let their guards down and it's nice seeing them so serene and just holding hands. Because no matter how they're feeling deep down about the blame they're placing on one another, they know it's unfounded and they know what's between them is stronger than those things they're ashamed of. Marissa reassures Ryan that Harbor is not the end all be all of her life and he needed to hear that. She's bummed about being kicked out but it hasn't devastated her. I think part of his idea in 3x01 and the summer preceding it was that everything would go back to normal once Trey awoke and school was part of that promised normalcy. And dealing with the school issue was easier than dealing with Trey and everything that came with that.

It's nice to think that Ryan did end up convincing Marissa to go with him to the carnival. I like picturing that. They're both so so into the mythology of their own relationship and it's sick!!!

[nokingsonlyfooles]

My spouse does all of this. To the best of his ability, and it's eating him alive. He's scared for me all the time.

It's all supposed to be temporary, you see. There is some magic combination of healthcare that will fix me, and it's my responsibility to go get it, and then I'll be fine and I won't need the support. So, just keep shaking the healthcare tree and don't waste time on making it easier to live with a disability. I'm just sick. Maybe this year I'll get well, or the next, or the next.

I don't know how the stars and planets would need to align to get me a carer but... They probably won't. Like, I don't have the papers and the diagnoses, and I'm not gonna get 'em - they're expensive and the waiting lists are long. I mask well. And if I can't do it, he does it, and if he can't do it, I do it. And if neither of us can do it, we're fucked. We cry. Then we get up and start doing things again.

So, all of the above, but I'm officially low to no support. No stigma for it, I guess, just people being annoyed with me when I can't do something. Or expecting me to do it anyway, so I do, and I get hurt, and I deal with that on my own time.

Huh. So, apparently I should have support, but even if I did have it, it'd still suck. Maybe they'd be experienced enough with medical to open a few more doors for me, but probably not? Maybe I'd end up in one of those housing situations where they don't let me get up and microwave a burrito at 3am? I mean, I can't necessarily get through a telehealth appointment without going nonverbal, but that doesn't mean I can't do me a burrito. Unless I'm in too much pain, but I'm pretty good at functioning while in pain. Nobody's gonna get me to the bathroom if I can't. Even if every once in a while I gotta crawl.

We're supposed to have help? Nobody ever bothered to tell us. So I do go to the store, usually on foot, sometimes in pain. And when I gotta drive, I drive, even if my vision is unstable and it scares me. If he can't drive me and transit won't get me there, I gotta get there somehow or I won't get whatever service I need - such as an appointment with the eye doctor, who might be able to get my vision to the point where driving is OK again.

And it's better here. The stores are closer. I'm getting more healthcare. I can be more independent safely. He works from home and he's got more flexibility to help out. And I'm still dealing with all that stuff. With just him.

I don't get my needs met. I don't get to decide where I live (we are damn lucky to have rent control here, but we can't afford to move anywhere else). I don't get to be part of a community, though I am trying like hell. Care? No care? What even is "care" if that's all the difference it makes?

I know I'm shouting into the void with this one but like. Genuinely so many low support needs people dont understand what it's like having even medium support needs. Like I am entirely dependent on other people for many of my needs. I can not see a doctor without someone else scheduling the appointment, taking me there and doing a large amount of the communication for me.

If my caretaker had not been accepting of me being trans and invested hundreds of hours into psych appointments and taking me to my endocrinologist and doing all the paperwork involved with my name change and literally taking a week off work to stay with me in the hospital for surgery etc i would have just like. Never transitioned. My ability to transition was entirely dependent on a singular person and that's what a lot of other parts of my life are like as well. and that's fucking terrifying and a great way to be neglected and abused in ways that are horribly hard to get away from.

I dont drive, I dont work, I struggle to leave the house at all, I dont fucking communicate with people majority of the time. The things that are hard for you? I probably can not do them to begin with. No one in my family lives even close to a comparable life to me. None of my irl friends do. I'm incredibly isolated.

And then I go online and see people rant about how easy MSN and HSN people have it because we just get everything we need and how because people can tell we are disabled everything is so easy because none of you even manage to listen to us talk about the neglect and abuse and trauma we face/d. I see people angry at their (more) disabled siblings for getting care they need to survive instead of mad at society for creating a system where its incredibly hard for families to take care of both a higher support needs child and another child.

And I see people who live completely independent lives who work and drive and make their own doctors appointments and grocery shop and travel by themselves call themselves MSN (I could go on a rant about how that's also often the fault of LSN influencers for not leaving a lot of room in their own community for legitimate struggle but that's for another day).

I just want my needs met. I want to be able to decide where I live. I want choice in my care. I want to be able to have community with those like me. I want others to realize I exist and leave the words i have to describe my existence alone. I want others to listen to what I have to say about what my life is like.

[frogsandfries]

I'm wondering if I should post this lovely, in-fucking-coherent message I received from my sister's drug-addled abusive husband,

but I just made a formal report to CPS and journaled my heart out. I stopped being scared of people just straight making shit up about me years ago. It doesn't make me shut up. It makes me laugh at you because it shows me the true intelligence differential. Like, look, normally I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they really are as intelligent as I am--I'm not trying to pretend I'm Steven Hawking. If he was still alive, he could probably make me feel like I probably make many people feel. But then they do this shit, where they just like, fucking take words that have come out of my mouth, throw them in a bag, shake the bag, and accuse me of saying whatever the fuck it suits them for me to have said.

First, my sister comes up in this house, which is supposed to be a refuge safe from child predators and drug addicts and yelling--and you fucking yell at your kids? These children are not even people to her. They are pawns. Objects. If you stroke my sister's ego, if you fall in line behind her, you get to have a relationship with the girls. If you do anything to offend my sister, your "privilege" is revoked. It's fucking abusive to them more than us.

I have worked hard to be a better adult for children to be around than both of my parents put together. When possible, I want children in my presence to feel listened to, to feel like independent beings who can be independent, as age appropriate. I don't want them to have a screen shoved in their face all the time.

Then she picks a fucking fight with me. Over a misunderstanding between myself and her child. Over the fucking......god..... DAMN. WIFI. AGAIN. Leave. The. Fucking. Wifi. Alone. It is, at that point in the day, one in the fucking morning. It was fucking time to go to sleep. Not time to be on one's goddamn phone. Not for a child nor an adult.

Really. Honestly. It's like our younger sister said, any excuse, any hint of an excuse. She didn't truly want to leave her drug addict husband and his child-predator father. She doesn't know how not to abuse and be abused and she fucking likes it that way. She doesn't want to grow up and be a fucking adult because then she'd have to be fucking responsible for her children and her actions and she'd have to come back to consensus fucking reality.

And I don't give a fucking flying hint of a shit about her. It's her life. She's an adult. This is the life she's choosing. Fine. Whatever. But imagine being so gung-ho for both your daughters to grow up worse than you did: The internet shoved in their face well beyond the years where a child wants or needs a pacifier. Getting yelled at regularly. Their grandfather singling one of them out. And their abusive, drug-addict father. Oh, and the other one's learning disability being com-fucking-pletely ignored.

And actually, I don't think they are brats. I know goddamn well their fucking mother is. I think these girls are eager for some adults to be fucking adults, to give them positive, healthy attention and encouragement. I think they'd be happy to spend less time on their goddamn phones and more motherfucking time being treated like human fucking beings.

Anyway, I'd love to hear these apparent voice recordings of me where I'm talking about, what did this drug-addled piece of trash say, the sexual fantasies I had with the ex that I brought a legal case against for pedophilia? Uh, yeah....okeeeee. Anyone with half a remaining brain-cell would have heard that conversation, with their own ears, not filtered through the mouth of an attention-starved drama-whore, that I was disgusted and horrified and I had immediately put my foot down about this. I believe ver-fucking-batim I said "don't ever talk about my nieces again". But fucking whatever. People on this excuse for a husband's intelligence level hear and remember whatever the fuck they want to hear.

At least I didn't do any drugs in front of them. I didn't crush up my pills and smoke them. I didn't talk to them about this is indica and this is sativa and mommy smokes marijuana right in front of her kids. Even my stoner friend didn't smoke in front of her kid or even talk about it, even though it was legal in the state they came from, just like it's legal in the state my sister's husband came from.

Well. I guess this is what it is to be an adult: Constantly being involved with the law and legal/judicial system.

Anyway, I'm trying to get this far enough out of my system to actually get some goddamn sleep.

I'm just........so pissed off. Why the fuck does SHE get to have kids and I'm basically barren. She gets to continue (and deepen!!) the fucking cycle when I've worked so fucking hard to be a better role model to children. She treats them like objects, often inconveniences. She yells at them.

Why is she so fucking weak.

I was so looking forward to finally, finally building a relationship with my nieces, playing board games and maybe reading and making window clings. I bought them fucking Popin Cookin kits. I was going to print coloring pages for them and let them use my Crayola colored pencils.

Whatever. Anyway. When I get up, I guess I'm going to run the jars in the fridge through the sanitizer and probably jar up the rest of these honey berries, and then the strawberries, rhubarb, maybe make a strawberry-rhubarb jam/preserve, and hopefully the asparagus. Probably finish putting the kitchen table together.

Was looking forward to having my nieces here, safe. Didn't realize my nieces were the adults in charge of my sister/their mother. But she has to constantly nitpick them for little "slights" against her. Whatever. Whatever so that my sister doesn't have to be responsible for her own goddamn pathetic waste of a life. I wanted to roll my eyes so goddamn hard when the girls proudly proclaimed their mom is an artist. 🙄🙄🙄 And I'm Andy fucking Warhol. She doesn't do anything creative; she just copies and copies and copies. And not even well. Like, sure, I've just copied all these plushie patterns, but at least I'm transforming them into a new medium. And the graphic novel is about as wholecloth as something can be: My art, my original characters in a new combination of settings and scenarios. But I'm not here to piss over who's a real artist.

[buwan13]

I wish my father was not one of those men. And yet he is, and I resent him for it. All the negative stereotypes women give to men, he has it all. Well, except being physically abusive. But everything else is checked. If he weren't like this, what kind of woman would I be now? If I had a father I could actually rely on and teach me certain things a mother couldn't, who would I be now? I'd probably be the most emotionally stable, strong, independent person I could be haha.

I also, probably, wouldn't be too judgemental when it comes to the opposite sex. But here I am, refusing to yield, not wanting to enslave myself to love, succumb to the foolishness of it all. I refuse to worship a man who'll just treat me like a mom like how my father does to my mother; who'll, eventually, get tired of me once he's sucked everything he could from my aging soul and find a younger victim; who'll sleep deeply, dreaming of a bright tomorrow as I cry silently in my pillow; who'll make me feel bad for so many different things and expects me to accept because that's how I'm supposed to love him; who won't let me argue with him, interrupts me even, because his ego can't take it; and so many fucking more. If I die alone, so be it. But I will not let any man treat me like shit. I've made that mistake a couple of times and I'm so fucking relieved I got out of it even though it hurt like hell. Love is a hallucinogen that blurs and glitterizes every concept about a person, enough to convince you to die for them.

You ask me why I have such an attitude when we talk? Well, here it is. I hate you for making me see it all this way! My mom deserves better! I deserve a father who's manly enough to know his mistakes, says sorry, shows up when needed, and is kind and loving to my mom. The lessons I've learned from your shitty behavior is embedded in me. I'm always vigilant, too careful, too scared to know people, and be known by people. As much as I hate it, parts of me are from you. Stains that I can't wash away.

Maybe when I get older, more tired, and I can no longer keep the fire burning, I'll forgive you. But for now, my hatred and anger are still blazing. And I don't know how to put it out.

[tetrisfinished]

you know what really drives me nuts? is how unwilling yasir is to take on responsibility of something and CONSIDER IT HIS OWN.

and going hand in hand with that - CONSTANTLY turning the question back around to ME.

i'll give you a super small example of this. yasir drives esa to daycare in the morning. that generally means he's the one putting esa's hats/gloves/shoes/jacket on and getting him in the car and dropping him off to daycare.

yesterday morning yasir couldn't find esa's hat. this morning yasir couldn't find esa's shoes.

both of those on their own are tiny miniscule little problems. all he would have had to do is stop, look around a little to where these items might potentially be, and find them and use them.

instead WHENEVER yasir is faced with a problem BIG or SMALL his FIRST problem solving initiative is to yell at me three floors up and ask where these items are.

i am so GODDAMN FUCKING TIRED of whatever the fuck it is in his brain that makes him point to me as his personal google. it might seem unreasonable to get super pissy and angry about these things, but the fact of the matter is how OFTEN can i possibly tell him "i don't know" or ask him "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THESE THINGS" to get him to understand that he needs to solve his own problems!?

both times i responded with the same thing: i don't know. mostly because i'm all the way up in my office-room of the house and i am not physically in his vicinity nor do i have ANY line of sight to his vicinity.

i just don't understand why he does this. because even though his question is stupid and little and in BOTH INSTANCES he was perfectly ABLE to (WITHIN 5 MINUTES) find the items he was searching for ON HIS OWN, him asking me increases my own mental load.

why. does. he. do. this.

and SERIOUS QUESTION: how do i go about TEACHING a grown ass man to solve his own problems in life!?

and yes. this is indeed a SUPER dig at my MiL and LINE of SiLs that have made my husband so fucking useless that he never thinks to solve this shit on his own. he's sooooo used to having life handed to him on a silver platter that he feels no need to plan, organize, DO any part of his own life by himself.

in any case, i'm not like that. it bothers me, angers me, annoys me to NO END that my husband wasn't taught to be independent and self sufficient. and while he has changed a LOT and there are things he does today that would basically be UNFATHOMABLE for him in his past life around his posse - in my brain, it's too slow.

why was i (the fully formed adult) expected to be able to MEND this half adult but full manchild. why do our desi women leave their daughter in laws to "mend" their children. would it have KILLED THEM to parent their own kids!?

and let me be perfectly clear here. what they've done...it's not parenting. handing your kid life on a silver platter is not parenting. parenting is literally trying to make sure that when you go away from this world that your kid can handle the world and life on their own. because literally no one cares for you the way your parents do.

it is not that when you go from this world, your kid is left without a goddamn clue on how to move forward in their own life.

i am so sick and tired of this coddling culture. and i am so hyper aware that i too am a desi mom of a son. and while he is only 2, i've already begun to try and get him involved in responsibility.

but i'm so scared of failing my kid the same way i've seen my in laws fail my husband. maybe someday when esa is older and i can see how he's going about his life...maybe then i can look back at this post and think - well damn, i ended up doing the exact same thing! or...hopefully, i can look back and say that my attempts at raising a child aware of his responsibilities in life (or rather ONE main responsibility in life; to take care of himself, until he has his own family) is something that he can undertake and do.

who knows.

for my part; i know i'm trying.

much love,

k

[credince--writes]

Blood. (Jitters Au)

Hello. In light of recent events I have found myself infatuated with 141, so to churn to pot I'm going to start a one-shot (kinda?) series with an OC named Jitters. The more I make the more it will expand on the AU. So, hope you enjoy, as of right now there is going to be no smut.

Jitters.

You get them when you're scared,

nervous,

excited.

But you never want to have them with a gun in your hand.

Good thing she didn't have one in her hand right now. Actually, she had a mouse. Fierce clicking is heard amongst a silent background save for the patterns of gunfire far off in the distance.

"How's that going Jitters?" She heard the crackle of Soap's voice come in over the radio, reaching her hand over to grasp the machine she lifted it to her face pushing down on the button.

"Lights go out in two minutes." She responded.

"Copy." He responded.

Sitting in a stuffy room with two soldiers left behind to stand guard at the safe house she was in, hearing their boots shift every now and then as they looked around, trying to think of anything other than the probability of an ambush. She had been sent- much to her dismay but under Shepard's persuasion to the mission's site to provide better support than if fully remote. The current job was to 'acquire' an asset intel had placed in a series of barricaded homes and buildings five miles from her current location. The group had not yet established independence from the electricity grid which Jitters was all too happy to of been able to score access to. The plan was to cut all power to the building and send in Ghost & Soap. It was as simple as these could get, and she trusted that the team would make quick work and they could be on their way back to base as soon as possible.

"Cutting power in 3... 2... 1... Power cut." Jitters spoke into the radio.

"Copy. Moving out." She heard Ghosts voice this time, followed by a crackle of the radio and then silence.

Sitting back in her chair, she let out a sigh.

"So you know the L.T?" She heard the guard from behind her ask, she turned around to shoot him a sly grin and respond.

"Yea, kind of." she responded.

"Is it true what they say? You know, that he isn't-"

Jitters cut him off. "Yea man, he disappears at night and just appears out of thin fuckin' air. Scare's the piss out of you too, and he just knows- those eyes burrow into the soul. The man knows what you think before you say it." She laughs a little- one thing she couldn't get bored of was fucking with some of the Privates, even though her ranking was 'lower' than theirs.

Well, she wasn't even part of the military technically. Some kind of loophole between the CIA and contractors. A hundred background checks and a vouch from Scab was how she ended up meeting Price, and it rolled downhill from there. So, by that logic and by a general distrust of the computer girl having a gun they usually opted for her to not have as much of a handgun.

Maybe it was because of the Jitters.

It wasn't like she was ever in combat, so it didn't bug her. This mission however was a little close for her liking. Miles was still too close.

Turning back to face the computer she watched the timer tick down, the team had seven more minutes before she would turn the power back on to extract data from any electronics found on the premises.

"Jitters, time?" Soap spoke.

"Five." She responded.

"Copy."

She began tapping a pen against the table up until the man behind her groaned, mumbling something under his breath. She faltered and put the pen down and the table, slightly sulking and feeling embarrassment burn on her face. She was supposed to be an adult- not behaving like a child. Internally groaning at herself and trying to shove down the feeling of unease rising in her throat she glanced back at the computer to see the time ticking down from thirty seconds.

"ten seconds." Jitters spoke into the radio.

When the time ran out and the power came back on she was expecting Soap, or at least any of the other present soldiers to radio in to begin data extraction.

She frowned and turned around.

"Jitters?" She heard it on the radio.

"Yes?" She responded- it was Soap.

"We have found a data stash, starting connection now."

She spun around to the computer, hands gracing the keyboard, pads of her fingers brushing against the keys.

"Connection established, starting export now." She responded.

One this she could say, was exporting was much faster when she wasn't a country away, that was a plus. The data she was pulling was being sorted and stashed in the correct locations, fresh intel as it seemed common for impromptu command bases to leave masses of intel on electronics normally left by the unknowing taskforces.

"How's it going down there?" Jitters asked.

"Half and half." Soap responded.

"Download almost complete, once this is done, I don't think you'll need to be sniffin' around much more- doubt they had more than one setup." She says.

"We have Tangos on the move, repeat Tangos on move southbound." She heard a soldier say over the radio suddenly.

She could feel her shoulders stiffen, turning to look at the man behind her who was staring at her wide-eyed. They both stayed like that for a moment, before the radio crackled to life with a fury.

"House three full to the brim with these bastards!" She heard someone call through. Gunfire was heard in the background, as well as a yowl of pain.

"Target is no longer here."

"Find him!"

"House one clear"

She sat there and stared at the radio, not knowing how to react. Were they headed toward them? There were only two fucking men here- how many were coming?

Was she going to die?

She… Didn't want to die.

At least not now.

"…Are they coming here?" She asked.

"Hope not." The guard said, pushing forward to walk outside. "Anything?"

"Nothing yet, I don't see any truck."

"We will be fine, it's not like this is a landmark or anything."

Jitters glanced to the side, "Should we leave?"

"No, this is a safe house. Emphasis on the safe part. We aren't leaving."

"Well. What do we do if someone does come?" She questions.

"You aren't doing anything- we are here to protect you." He sasses back. "Now go back to whatever it is you're doing."

The downloading process suddenly came to a crawl, and she was clenching her hands on the table in front of her. This was going smoothly, why did it have to fuck up now? Her foot began to subconsciously tap, the small house she sat in not comforting her in the slightest.

This used to be someone's home.

Maybe they dreamed of even raising a family here.

"We have a truck inbound." She heard the second guard call out.

"Fuck." The first one said.

She turned around, sucking some air into her lungs. "We need to go. We need to leave."

The first guard turned around and snapped. "No, you need to stay here. We aren't abandoning our po-"

Blood splattered the wall.

And the floor.

And the ceiling.

The force of the bullet sends the body to the ground almost immediately.

"Get down!" The second guard yells.

That she does, eyes locked onto the basically decapitated figure next to her. She blinked a few times, trying to compose herself, but found her eyes locked on the corpse.

Her hands began to shake. Gunfire could be heard outside, she could hear the bullets lodging themselves into the building.

She began to jitter.

The computer screen blinked a little box with 'Confirmed' popping up and vanishing over and over. She rushed over, pulled out the laptop and slipped it into a backpack, and tossed it behind her clicking the strap-on for extra support. Destroying all possible useful elements of the computer setup and her surroundings she took and step back and looked around frantically for a way to escape the supposed safe house.

Tucking the radio into a strap on the backpack she pushed her way through the hallway looking to the second guard perched on the balcony shooting down towards the truck.

"We need to go!" She yelled at him.

He shook his head, ducking down below the cement banister. "You need to get back there! We are staying here and holding our ground!"

She cursed, turning and making her way back to the room. Eyeing the pooling blood of the corpse onto the floor, she hesitantly walked up to the corpse and wiggled the rifle from his grip.

Then his ammo, handgun, and a belt.

She let out a huff of the added weight to her- whispering curses to the fact that this wasn't near half of the shit she would watch Soap tote around when he's running about in a God Damn field.

Holding the rifle she situated herself up against the wall in the hallway, glancing back and forth between that and the window. Staring at the second guard still returning fire until she heard that horrible 'click click click' sound of his rifle running out of ammo. She stepped forward and called his name, but when he turned to look at her a man charged up the staircase. The guard stood and tried to fight him off but he was quickly shot down.

"Fuck!" She yelled, frantically looking around the room and at the man. She watched as he lifted the rifle toward her and she darted to the side of the wall, watching as bullet holes appeared where her shadow once was on the wall behind her.

The man walking down the hallway called out in an unfamiliar language. Her arms shook as her finger rubbed against the trigger of the rifle. Suddenly stepping out to make the first move against the attacker- she wouldn't all him to have the advantage. Not like this.

Pulling the trigger the machine responded, sending a jolt against her shoulder.

Blood splattered against the wall. The now corpse slumped against the wall.

She never realized how much blood was in the human body.

She couldn't exactly describe how she felt when she pulled the trigger. It was an action almost isolated- she didn't feel the connection of taking a life. It was just there- and now gone.

She heard more voices from downstairs, making their way through the house and working upwards. She turned quickly, trying to ignore the numb feeling tickling through her fingers. She tried to pry her fingers against the window sil, but they wouldn't budge. Cursing she raised the rifle up and smashed out the window. Lifting herself up through the windowsill and pushing herself out- catching her shoulder against a shard of glass in the process shredding her skin.

Maybe she had underestimated the height of the building-

or her ability to land.

She landed sideways it felt, onto a metal siding roof slanted downwards. And almost in true ragdoll fashion it rolled down and off the roof onto the hard dirt.

Making a gasp for air, she was gagging for any oxygen to reach her lungs- the fall knocking the wind out of her chest. Situating her hands down and in front of herself to push herself up, the dust from the dirt beneath her clinging to her skin and sending up plumes of dust into the dark air. Getting her feet back under her was harder than expected, leaning up against the wall and getting herself up was a fight, but she won it to a degree. Looking right to left she made her way out left, she just needed to get away from the building, get to a new location- radio the team, and she would be safe.

Flanking in from the left was the truck, tires screaming against the dirt with guns pointed toward her. Scurrying backward she lifted the rifle again and pulled the trigger pointing the rifle at the windows of the truck. A bullet whizzed past her and grazed her leg, a searing hot paint from the open wound it left made her let out an involuntary scream. The passenger side of the windshield had been shot out, and she shot again, again and again until the magazine was empty. The truck came to a rolling top, breaking hard when the driver threw the door open, holding a large blade in his hand.

She pulled the trigger of the rifle again, just to hear the clicking sound of an empty magazine. Yelling and frustrated and throwing the empty rifle at the man quickly approaching- seemingly throwing him off she charged back at him. A surge of adrenaline and the primal fight or flight take over.

it was time to fight.

He quickly overpowered her, sending them both to the ground, rolling around in the dirt. Both of her hands gripped his wrist holding the knife, and his free hand kept moving to the ground to try and push himself up further to slit her throat. She rolled out from under him, letting go of his wrist and causing him to fall forward. She tackled him again, wrestling the knife out of his grip after punching him in the face once and twice again. The knife tumbled to the side- and she snatched it. Holding the handle with both hands she slammed her hands down trying to stab the man through his neck- slit his throat- anything.

He fought back- grabbing her arms and rolling them over once again. Punching her in the face until she heard the crack of her nose and blood began to pour into the back of her throat. Him on top trying to twist the knife downward toward her face. He was yelling and succeeding in his actions. His free hand gripped the whole of her face, trying to dig his fingers into anything he could. Letting out a scream of pain as she felt his nails dig into her flesh. She opened her mouth a bit down on the man's ring finger as hard as she could. The taste of blood filled her mouth, the sound of tearing. He screamed obscenities and she pushed forward, turning the knife and jamming it in his throat.

A gurgling noise replaced his scream, and his weight suddenly all bore down onto her. Blood began to gush out of his mouth onto her face, neck, and upper body. Gagging, she tried to roll him off of her, pulling the knife out resulting in a high pressured splat of blood covering her face and body. Pushing the corpse off of her, she crawled on top of it and lifted the knife again, plunging it down onto his chest.

"Fuck You!" Jitters screamed.

There was blood everywhere. On her face, on her body- seeping into her shirt, on her hands.

Standing up, she could feel the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She needed to get out of here-

She looked back and forth for the radio she had strapped onto her- somewhere scattered into the grass and dirt. But without a flashlight, she couldn't see anything around her, let alone a little black radio.

Everything felt numb. She couldn't feel the cuts from the glass, the blooming bruises on her side and arms, or the warm blood seeping down her leg and dripping onto her boots.

Was it shock?

Could it of been anything else?

She didn't really know.

What she did know, is that she sat down in the field and stared at the headlights of the truck until she could feel someone shaking her shoulder.

Her eyes glanced up to see the skull mask of Ghost. She didn't respond to his presence, just kept her eyes fixated on the light cast from the headlights. Soon enough, Ghost had crouched down right next to her, staring into the same void she had been looking at for some time.

"Can you hear me?" He asks, his voice lighter than his usual interactions.

"Yea." Jitters responded.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. The question was more of a test, she was obviously hurt but gauging the severity of the shock was the goal- was she aware of her own injuries?

It took her a second, almost to think about it. "No." She responded/

After their last contact was made, and the unplanned radio silence from the safehouse, both Ghost and Soap decided to come back- either to confirm suspicions of an ambush or to find some explanation for the loss of contact. What they didn't expect to see, however, was the computer tech sitting in a field next to a corpse, covered in a surprising amount of blood staring off into the void.

When Soap stepped out from the side of the building, Ghost and Jitters fell into his line of sight. Ghost crouched down next to Jitters sitting in the grass.

"I have a hard time believing that." Ghost spoke. "You're in shock."

Soap came up from behind the two, looking down to be met with a blood-splattered fast, crooked nose and dark red blood dripping from her nostrils into her lap. "Fuck." He said quietly, shooting Ghost a side glance. Ghost glanced back up and him and shook his head, turning his glance back to her. "Let's get you out of here alright?"

All she does is a nod in response.

Behind her, she could hear Soap radioing something in- most likely a chopper for an evac. She looked at Ghost, then down at her hands. "My nose hurts." She comments. By that time Ghost had pulled her leg out to press some gauze against the wound.

"Yea, the adrenaline is wearing off." He says.

"Bird is twenty out." Soap walks up and says to the pair.

"Leg's bad Soap." Ghost states, Soap kneeling down to try and asses some of the damage.

"You've got a bloody pane of glass in your arm." Soap bites out, inspecting her shoulder.

"Fell through the window, landed on the roof. It's just a scratch." She responds. The buzzing around her head began to wear off, replacing with a thick string of pain wrapping itself around her body. Her eyelids became heavy, and the familiar buzz began to return if she kept her eyes shut.

"God damn it." Soap comments, "Hey, look at me. Keep your eyes open."

"She's crashing." Ghost comments calmly. "Thigh isn't bad enough to bleed out, and neither is the arm. Pack up and let's meet evac. Medics'll be on the bird."

Soap looked out to the corpse in the grass, knife jutting out of it, throat roughly slit open and blood pouring out around it. Glancing back to Jitters and Ghost picking her up placing her over his shoulder and walking up to him, taking a glance at the corpse.

"Brutal." Ghost comments.

"Coming from you?" Soap quirks a brow.

"It's brutal when you aren't combat trained, have some Empathy Johnny." Ghost muses, turning his back to him and starting out to the evac point.

"Empathy- what? Fuckin' Hell." He starts marching after him. "We both know that I'm the more sensible chap out of the two of us."

"I doubt that."

.

[maijobi]

back to you

dabi x reader

summary: when things don’t go well in your relationship, you find it best to end it... 

a/n: it has a good ending I promise. I did kinda hurt myself writing this I don't even know why. but sad dabi really does make me feel things.

———————————————————————

your hands were in your hair, doing your best to not pull every strand out of your scalp. your eyes were closed and you were doing your best to calm yourself down, counting down from ten.

“dabi, we have had this conversation for over a hundred times. you can’t control me. and why can’t you just trust me for once?”, you said, finally  opening your eyes and looking at dabi.

“fine”, he said clenching his jaw. “go. let all of those people see you. go. you know what, don’t come back tonight will you?”

“stop overreacting”, you said, breathing out heavily. “I'm sick and tired of you constantly telling me what to do. I'm your partner, not your child. I know my limits and I know what to look out for. and who are you to tell me to not come back tonight? this isn’t just your place. we live here with a bunch of losers, what makes you think you’re more special than them? what makes you think you overpower them? what makes you think you have more to say than us?”

he took a few steps closer to you and looked down at you with a wrinkled nose. “I just don’t like my partner going out where there are people that will look at them. I don’t like how you can’t keep your mouth shut around people and let them flirt with you. I can’t stand you going to places and not knowing your limit, when you claim you do.”

“just because I let people talk to me, doesn’t mean I'm letting them flirt with me?”, you confusedly said. “oh I apologize dabi. I apologize that I do not prefer to burn people to the ground when they give you a genuine smile. I apologize that I couldn’t become as great as you”, you sarcastically said while throwing your hands in the air and then dropping them. “do you hear how stupid you sound? we have this discussion almost every day, but I can’t seem to get some senses into you. I'm tired of this, dabi. I'm tired of having to explain myself every day when I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I can’t talk to anyone before I have you breathing against my neck telling me to stay away from that person.”

“sweetheart, dollface, sugar”, he said with gritted teeth, taking steps closer to you and holding on of your hand and placing it over his heart. “don’t make this harder for the both of us and just don’t go outside will you?”

you pulled your arm away from his grip. “not this time dabi. I'm sick of this. sick of you wanting to control everything I do. you wanting to have a dominant role in this relationship. why is that even needed? why can’t you treat me as an equal? can’t you for once just let me live? I'm tired, I'm tired of telling myself that you’ll change when you don’t”, you said, finally showing the frustration on your face. 

“and you think I'm having fun?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “you think I enjoy seeing you having fun with someone else? it hurts you just as much as it does me doll”, he said, raising his voice. “it’s also hard for me to see you flirting back with other people! know your fucking limits”, he said placing his hand on your chin and pulling it up slightly.

“don’t act like you are right here”, you sat, pulling your chin away from his grip and taking a step back. “for once. for fucking once accept that you can’t control everything I do and that you can’t overpower me. respect goes both ways, but I'm not seeing any on your accord.”

“now you’re just talking bullshit”, he said in a loud voice, laughing to shake off his frustration. “what does this even mean?! what is it that you’re trying to accomplish here? what is it that you so desperately want, huh? attention from someone else? if you’re not even gonna listen to my feelings, how am I supposed to take yours in account? you only do as you please and where does that bring us, huh?! where the fuck-!”

“that maybe perhaps we’re not meant for each other”, you interrupted him. “that maybe we’re just not fit for each other.”

his face dropped and you saw every emotion pass on his face. he was confused. he was confused as to the words you had just dared to speak, something he didn’t even think about once. to him this was normal, to him this was behavior that should be present in a relationship. to him, fighting everyday seemed normal. but his motives for this relationship seemed to be totally different from yours.

“you must be kidding no”, you said with a distressed smile. “h-how can you just easily say something like that?”

“because you made sure I did. if you just for once tried to understand me, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened.”

he walked closer to you and held your shouders. “you’re kidding right?”

“i’m not, dabi. I'm being very much serious right now. how can I continue this when my feelings are being invalidated on a daily basis? how am I supposed to respect you further when you literally treat me like your pet?”, you said a brushing off his grip on your shoulder. “I can’t do this when all of this only brings me anxiety and constant stress?”

he looked at you, lost in another world progressing what you had just said. it surely couldn’t have been true, you were joking right? but the expression on your face made him his eyes go larger and his mouth almost hung open. “y-you can’t be serious”, he said with a smile, but that soon dropped when he shook your head.

“i’m not”, you said turning around and walking to the door.

you didn’t turn around to look back at him, and he made no attempt to stop you. perhaps he hadn’t even believe that you actually left. or maybe he was just waiting for you to finally leave him. maybe this was for the better you thought, but for dabi this was a whole different experience. 

he was convinced you were coming back that night, he convinced himself that you would. so when you didn’t he totally lost it. the person that barely texted you had spammed you with messages and missed calls, leaving behind various emotions. he didn't know what he was feeling. this was all new to him.

dollface, you’re not serious right?

you’re coming back tonight right?

I'm sure you are...

you didn’t take me seriously, did you?

please come back.

please look at your messages.

it’s past midnight, please come back.

don’t scare me like this. just come back already. 

please...

you looked at your phone, tapping the corners or your phone. you decided to not answer, but that left you in a weird state of mind. you didn’t know what you were feeling. were you happy? sad? relieved? more stressed? you didn’t even know. you felt numb. 

you found your way to an old friend, asking if you could stay over until you figured out what you would do to survive. you locked your phone and threw it next to you on the bed. you allowed yourself to fall with your back on the mattress. you’d feel better in the morning, is what you tried to convince yourself. but would you really?

you woke up with a heavy headache. it was hard to even sit upright. but when you opened your eyes it was still dark. there was heavy rain outside and falling back asleep seemed like an impossible thing right now. 

you tapped on your phone letting it light up. 

3 a.m.

you sighed. what were you gonna do now? you felt too stressed to even close an eye. you didn’t know what you were supposed to do. you loved him and he probably loved you too, but this couldn’t go on forever.

you looked at your screen again, not missing all the messages he had left behind.

please I know I fucked up, but please just come back.

you can’t be doing this.

and many more messages like that had filled your phone. you frustratingly brushed your hand through your hair and sighed loudly. it felt wrong. it felt wrong to have left like that in the middle of an argument. but at the same time this had happened so many times that you couldn’t just do nothing. 

you rose from your bed, still not answering any of his messages. your phone rung every five minutes, but you just didn’t pick it up. you walked to the kitchen and filled a glass with water only to leave it on the counter after seeing his new messages.

I really need you.

I don’t need anybody else.

just you. so please, please come back.

you blinked once, then twice and then many more times. dabi had really said he needed you. the independent guy, who would refuse help from anyone had said he needed you. you weren’t sure what to do. you paced around the kitchen, biting down on your nail. your phone made a sound again.

I just really... can’t live without you.

you sighed loudly and with a quick steps you walked to the door. you put on your shoes and ran out the door taking the keys with you. the rain splashed on your skin, clothes and hair, making you soaked in an instant as you ran down the street. but you didn’t care. the only thing that ran through your head was wanting to see dabi. wanting to see him share his feelings and wanting to see him need you. 

even the bad memories had a good ending for you. every time you fought, you’d fix it together. so why couldn’t that be done now? why did you have to act so selfishly again? you knew you were partially right, but at the same time you knew this wasn’t right. all your memories with him flooded in your mind and it made you run faster.

your feet dragged you to the place you had thought he was, because you knew he wouldn’t be at the residence. he would be at the place that caused his trauma, but at the same time was his most visited place. 

the forest were he had supposedly died. the forest where his dad had refused to come to. the forest with his last memories of home.

you stopped in track when you saw his figure. his back facing you and his head looking up. he was wearing a front zip hoodie with the cap over his head. allowing the droplets to hit his face. he had heard something so he turned around.

when he saw you standing there in the rain he took one step and reached out his hand, but stopped when you only stared at him. you were out of breath, breathing in and out heavily as your chest heaved. 

you looked at him, seeing the sad expression on his face. you shook your head and started walking, but before you knew it you were running to him. you ran and when you reached him, you threw yourself on him, holding him like you never did before.

he was in shock, not being able to do anything, just allowing you to slowly pull him down for the hug. when you pulled away you held his face and searched it, but before he could say anything you crashed your lips against his, tasting the rain on them. it was still pouring and this might have been the closest thing to an actual romantic scene the two of you had. 

your lips danced together and you melt in each others touch. he finally allowed himself to be embraced and snaked his arms around your back to deepen the kiss. he pushed you against him and moved his hands to your neck to pull you closer. your hands slid down and rested on his chest.

when he pulled away he looked you in your eyes. water droplets were falling on your face and he made an attempt to wipe them away though the rain hadn't stopped. you wanted to say something, but he shut you up by pulling you in once more and giving you a small, but soft kiss.

“i’m sorry”, he said, pulling you flush against him to hug you. “I'm sorry for always wanting to control you. I was just scared.”

you slid your arm around his waist and hugged him back. “scared of what?”

“of you leaving”, he whispered just loud enough to hear above the splashing raindrops. “I haven’t been open about my feelings. I just didn’t know how to. but I was raised with the thought of rejection and people leaving me behind. I wasn’t used to all of this. I wasn’t used to having all this affection, so I was scared you’d leave just like the rest.”

you tightened your grip on him. “I don’t have a reason to leave. I just need you to be open with me like just now. so we can work things out together”, you said, looking up so that you were facing him.

he looked down and a soft smile formed on his face. he kissed you again and again and again until completely devouring your lips on his, not giving you a chance to pull away. but that wasn’t needed. you had understood the whole situation and the both of you were able to figure it out together. many ways had opened for the two of you and the both of you have yet to learn so much about each other. but you were both willing to change yourself for each other. because even if things weren't always great, the two of you would find their ways back to each other. 

[bonny-kookoo]

Smart Girl (J.JK x reader)🔞🌼☁️🎀

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Good Girl!AU, Fluff, Angst, smut (what did you expect?)

Warnings: a bit of separation anxiety and a small panic attack sprinkled into it, but y’all know me by now, Reader is kinda lost without her Koo and emotionally a MESS (TM), sad boy Jungkook, Grumpy Jungkook, a fight between the marshmallow couple yikes, Dom/sub dynamics, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Oral (m receiving), manhandling, mild DDLG themes, reader is a bit bratty this time and koo is having none of it, slight hair pulling, I think that’s it? Jungkoo is just the best boyfriendo ever okay

Summary: Jungkook loves how dependent you are on him. You however start to feel a bit different about it when you overhear a coworker of yours, who’s coincidentally also someone he’d slept with in the past, talking about how childish and most of all how much of a burden you are. You try to show Jungkook how independent and strong you can be on your own. And fail miserably. But luckily he's always gonna be there, won't he?

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

You don't even know how it started. Maybe it was when you'd told Alex how Jungkook had just recently thrown your small pink plastic chair away, which you had used to reach the highest shelve in the kitchen so that you didn't have to ask him. Truth be told he'd said he didn't do it, yet his smirk afterwards told other words. He was always like this- it was as if he fed his own pride every time he helped you with even the smallest of things. Soohyeon had sighed at that, and you had simply asked what was wrong.

"What I'm saying is, Y/N sweety, maybe he just does it because you seem so lost all the time." Up until now, you and Soohyeon had gotten along quite well, considering the fact that she'd revealed to you early on when Jungkook had picked you up from your work that she and him had a bit of history- bedstories, for that matter. It did made you uncomfortable at first, but she'd reassured you that it had been a one-time-fun thing, no feelings involved. You believed her, considering that he really had been a person like that. Right now however, you began to feel a bit uneasy. "Trust me, I think he's just too soft for you to actually say it out loud." She said, and Alex scoffed.

"You're just bitter Soo, get over it or get out." She said, placing her hands on your shoulders as if to shield you from her words. You both quickly went to change after finishing your shift, however, the uneasy feeling stayed. "You okay?" Your friend asked, clearly concerned over your lack of happiness considering you had been so over the moon earlier that day when you'd explained how you were invited to a company-trip; and Jungkook had agreed to come along. You shook your head yes, but she was clearly not having it. "Look, I think she really is just bitter. Don't let it get to you, okay?" She said, and you smiled.

Back home, things didn't get better though. You were suddenly on edge, Jungkooks presence around you as you started to pack your bag for the next few days felt suffocating, and you couldn't concentrate on his voice at all, even if you wanted to. This was horrible. Were her words really getting under your skin?

"Y/N?" He asked, and you looked up. "You've been staring at that pair of pants for almost ten minutes now. Do you want me to pack them in my bag? That way you don't have to lift so much-" He said, already reaching for the piece of clothing, yet you slapped his hand away. You didn't intend for it to look as harsh as it did, yet you also couldn't apologize in time. "Whoa okay, that's new." He said confused, crouching down next to you on the floor to inspect your face turned downwards. "Whats wrong?" He asked, now actually a little concerned.

You simply folded the pair of jeans, packing them into your bag instead of his like he had suggested. "Nothing, don't worry about it." You mumbled, not noticing the way his eyes started to harden a bit at your attitude. It wasn't the fact that you went against him that bothered him, but the lack of communication going on. He hated it if you didn't talk to him, something you'd promised him to keep to a minimum.

"Okay there, stop." He said, shutting your bag to keep you from continuing, not even letting you protest. "I don't like that attitude baby, you know I hate it when you don't talk to me." He said, looking at you. Normally this would be the extend of your 'bratty-tantrum' how he playfully liked to call it- but no, it seemed like this wasn't just a random outburst, because you genuinely tried to pry his hands away from your bag. He was not having it. "Stop this bullshit-" he said, but you didn't let him finish this time.

No, this time you'd gotten up, making him stand up as well. You shrunk back a bit, but whatever had set you off, it really did it this time. "Fuck off, Stop treating me like a kid Jungkook!" You said, trying to run away from this upcoming argument by leaving the room, yet he didn't leave you alone. In that moment you didn't even think really, because if you had, you would've never reacted the way you eventually did. He waited, leaned against the counter with crossed arms, making you scoff at him. "Maybe you should just stay home Jungkook." You said, leaving him in the kitchen. You were mad. And ready to sleep in your old room- which was technically your room to begin with, yet you had slept in Jungkooks bed for as long as you were together now, so it was more like a guest room at this point.

You didn't care. You needed to be alone.

Jungkook was utterly confused. There was no simpler way to put it. Maybe he really had overlooked the way he was starting to get more and more on your nerves with his constant helping and looking after you- but how could he really overlook that? Maybe he really didn't know you as much as he thought he did. After all, you two hadn't been dating for overly long at this point, and even though he has had relationships before, this was the first time he genuinely felt completely at ease with you. Didn't you feel the same way with him? Maybe Taehyung had been right, and he secretely was pushin his own likes onto you instead of openly communicating- ironic really, considering that he was always demanding to speak up whenever something was up with you. This was a mess. So thinking you truly meant what you'd said, he silently went back into his room, unpacking his bag.

  The next morning, he tried to be as normal as possible. You didn't really fight after all, did you? Yet as soon as you walked out of your room, hair already brushed and clothing chosen carefully for the 7-hour busride, the air felt tense. He suddenly felt as if he was walking on the thinnest of glass shards, and if he wasn't careful he'd prick himself and bleed out on his kitchen floor. This was worse than any mafia-movie had ever depicted a torture scene. What the hell was he supposed to do?

In the end, none of you both really spoke at all, simply silently consuming a bit of breakfast, while you checked your phone to make sure you were on time. You'd seen your pastel pink bag next to the front door, and wanted to go off again. He really expected you to leave alone now? Mad as you were, you stood up and placed your cutlery in the sink, silently grabbing your coat. "Wait, let me-" you turned around and looked at your boyfriend, wanting to cry on the spot right there. He stood like he was genuinely scared to help you with your stuff, and you, intending to not make him even more uneasy as he was, grabbed your bag, opening the front door. You pretended to not see him standing behind you, expecting at least a hug- one which you never gave him, instead shoving your way past him, leaving him at the doorstep, dumbfounded as ever.

The trip wasn't as fun as you thought it would be. In the end, Soohyeon was visibly dissapointed to see that Jungkook didn't join in, which made Alex scoff at her in disgust. Now you felt even worse for letting her words get under your skin. Enjoying anything was a challenge you never wanted to accept, considering that he was supposed to be beside you, making weird remarks at the way your guide was struggling to speak in front of you and your coworkers. You felt bad.

Back home, Jungkook wasn't doing much better. He'd called up Taehyung to talk to him about the fight you both had, and immediately wanted to hang up on it as soon as he told him to just 'fuck it out'. This really wasn't an option with you. You both were so much more than just sex, but he highly doubted Taehyung would understand this.

Maybe he should give you control for now. He'd just let you choose the pace from now on, no sexual innuendo here. Yet he couldn't help but call you anyways after biting his lower lip until he faintly tasted metal on his tongue. He could call you to tell you goodnight, right? You'd like that.. right?

  The Night was even worse. You never liked loud places such as clubs, and Alex wasn't really much help either, since she had just dissapeared somewhere as soon as you all went out. You sat in the hotel bar, busying yourself with your phone because you didn't even drink at all. The more you thought about it, the more you really started to feel like a child. A lost one. So to try and at least get some good rest, you simply went up to your room, shutting the door, and throwing yourself onto your bed, your phone forgotten.

Fighting with Jungkook sucked. That much was kind of obvious to you if you were being honest, yet you never truly thought about why it sucked. It wasn't so much that you knew you were overreacting. It wasn't the fact that he was right, even though that did kind of hurt your ego a little bit- it was more the aftermath and your own stupid hardhead that made you react like you did.

You were a softie. In a sense of, emotionally very easily affected. Things other people simply didn't care about sometimes had a huge effect on you. When you had talked against your mothers advice for the first time at the age of 10, convincing her to buy a blue teddybear for you instead of a pink one made you feel horrible that night- so much so that you found yourself crying way after your bedtime, staring at the soft blue bear in your hands. Not only because you felt bad for doing something simply different than what was expected of you, but because you felt bad for the bear- as stupid as it sounded. Your mother later on talked to you, explaining that it was okay to do things how you wanted sometimes, yet even though you always held that stuffed toy dear to you (even to this day, its still sitting on your bed), your attitude towards things never truly changed. You still had a hard time coming up with the courage to really speak your mind and let things go your way, because you knew you couldn't deal with the aftermath. Just like now.

Jungkook had been right. Oh so right. Yet you couldn't text him, because for once it was actually way too late at night, which was kind of ironic considering the previous story about your childhood, but also because you didn't know what exactly you should say. 'Sorry for being bitter about being bitter?' this was stupid, and you just wanted to throw this stupid white hotel pillow against the stupid hotel wall in front of you. Instead you simply pulled your knees closer to yourself, battling with your own tears. Why did you always cry so much? This was so unfair. Why wasn't Jungkook here, why did he actually let you go on this trip alone, why didn't he stop you, why did you tell him to fuck off, why the fuck did you shove him- so many thoughts started to make the tears finally fall. This was ridiculous. You just wanted to go home. What if something horrible happened and the last thing you said to him were these words?

But had Soohyeon been so wrong? You really were a burden, weren't you? Remembering all those times you'd asked Jungkook to help you made you feel awful, a stark contrast to how these little memories used to remind you how much you loved him. Now they just made your stomach feel stale and empty. Or maybe it was the fact that you had forgotten to eat. Again.

A buzzing sound from under your sheets made you sniffle, grabbing your phone to see who the fuck would be calling you this late.

Jungkook.

You hesitantly picked up.

And before he could even finish his 'Hey doll', you started to sob. Why was he so unfair? And why were you so upset about it?

"Whoa Angel, what's wrong?" He cooed over the phone, and you knew he just wanted to help, but the way he talked to you just fueled your inner thoughts even more. It was like trying to put out a fire by throwing a cardboard box on it- it just made everything worse. And you could physically feel it too- the way your fingers started to tingle, then curl into fists, the way your ears began to sound fuzzy and your head started to spin. You faintly heard Jungkooks frantic voice, counting. Counting? "One.. two.. three.. and out. Thats it baby, breathe." He said softly, and you could slowly feel your fingers again, sniffling softly and rubbing your eyes- before instantly regretting it when you saw your mascare on the back of your hand, smeared like the words of your first essay in school when you'd accidentally wiped across the ink that wasn't dry yet. "Talk to me baby."

His voice was like velvet over the phone, and you wanted to cry again. You had to swallow several times, searching for your voice before you spoke. "I'm sorry." You said, and before you could continue, your own sobs thought it would be nice to choke you up again. Now you just cried out of frustration, and it pained Jungkook way deeper than he liked to admit. This was horrible for him, the way he could clearly hear your painful whimpers, he just knew you were getting a headache already- and he couldn't do anything from this far away. He could only wait for you to continue. "You- I was so mean to you and so so dumb and I didn't mean it, I promise." You said tearfully. "I love how you drive me to work sometimes, how you get me things from the upper shelves in the kitchen, how- how you help me carry the groceries, a-and how you help with- with reminding me to eat, and how you tried to help me with my car even though you had no clue what to do and-" You said, and he hushed you again, noticing how you got riled up again. "I feel so bad 'Koo, I didn't even hug you goodbye when you stood behind me and I even pushed you and I didn't answer your texts and I really wanted you to come here too cause everyone's just drinking and I hate that, and there's this weird arcade place close by and you always told me how I suck at video games so I wanted you to show off there again even though I always tell you I hate it and-" You said, and he laughed.

"Baby stop, breathe." He said, grinning so hard his cheeks started to hurt. He always told everyone how soft you were, yet no one believed him when he said it. Taehyung always said you probably held the reigns in the bedroom, yet how could you ever? He just wanted to shelter you from the entire world, your soul way too gentle and fragile to be placed in such a rough environment in his opinion. He'd started to google the fastest route to your hotel, internally sighing when he saw the 6-hour mark on the quickest way. He didn't care however. "It's alright angel. First of all, you're not dumb." He said, sending the route to his phone while getting up to grab some clothes and his bag. "You're the smartest girl I've ever met okay, and nothing will change that." Not really caring what exactly he grabbed, he made sure to get an extra sweater for you to put on, knowing how you didn't pack any of his in your anger. "Second of all, why were you even mad in the first place baby? I really don't get it. If you want me to take care of you the way I did, why did it set you off yesterday?" He asked, genuinely confused.

You bit your lip, curled up on the way too large double bed which had been booked since Jungkook was technically supposed to be here. "Soohyeon said-" you began, but he groaned loudly at that, making you pout.

"Soohyeon? I really should've known. That woman really can't take rejection can she?" He said, his mood rotting the more he thought about her. "I don't think I wanna know what she said. Look baby, whatever she said, it's bullcrap okay?" Zipping up his bag quietly to not raise suspicion on your side, he sat back down on the corner of the bed. "I love you, alright princess? I'd tattoo that onto my forehead if I could keep my job after that." He said, and you giggled at that, making him visibly deflate. Thank god. "I love that sound too. Now go wash your face and drink some water so that your headache won't be so bad in the morning, alright?" He said, and you nodded, before internally cringing and answering him verbally. "Good. Now sleep baby, we'll talk tomorrow, alright? Love you." He said. And you immediately said it back, rushing into the bathroom after ending the call.

The next day started with a message on your phone, reminding you to drink lots of water to conquer your headache, and you smiled this time. When you met up with Alex for breakfast in the Hotel Lobby, she had greeted you with a hug, yet she also asked what was wrong, and why you'd left so suddenly last night. You explained to her what happened, leaving a few smaller details out that would be embarrassing down the line, like your slight panic attack over the phone simply because you remembered how you didn't hug him goodbye. That was your secret to keep.

She'd helped you with carrying your plate, when suddenly someone took it from her with a thanks, and your eyes widened when a hand was placed on the small of your back, the warmth of it slowly seeping through your shirt. You should be terrified but at least a bit uneasy, yet it was the smell that suddenly hung in the air that made your eyes almost water. Not because it was too present like your mom's perfume every time you went out to dinner as a family, but because you knew this- because Jungkook hated strong smells, and always washed his clothes with a specific fabric softener. But- how?

"Surprise?" He said, looking over your shoulder with his sugary sweet bunny smile, and you hugged him, careful of the plate he held in his hand. He simply laughed, already feeling way better than back home. Because even if he didn't outright say it, even just a day apart, especially when you both have had an argument before, had been hell for him. He was concerned for you whenever he couldn't be close to you, not because he thought you weren't capable, but because he thought why should you deal with things he could deal with way easier? When it came down to it, he was sure that you could stand up for yourself- you weren't a child before, as much as you may thought you were in his eyes. It was tricky, to say the least.

Soohyeon's eyes widened at the view of Jungkook walking into the hotel restaurant for breakfast, yours and his plate in his hands while looking for a table you could both sit at. It wasn't so much so that she was jealous, not really, because the dynamic you both had was nothing she wanted in a relationship- yet she couldn't help but feel a bit upset over the fact that he had gotten into a relationship with you. Technically, you were absolutely not his type, but what did she know?

Jungkook chuckled as he sat down with you next to a window, knowing even though you didn't outright say it that you liked this particular seat. He could spot Soohyeon in the corner of his eye, and wanted to laugh a bit, yet decided not to, simply as to not embarass you. You smiled, happy that he was there, and that was all that counted. "So, about that arcade place-" He started, and you groaned a bit, making him laugh. "Hey, come on, let me tease you a bit baby. You were the one leaving me cold like that, remember?" He said, and regretted it as soon as those words left him when he saw you visibly deflate. "Hey- sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Let's not talk about that right now, okay?" He said, and you nodded, shoving another piece of toast between your teeth.

Suddenly that trip didn't feel so boring after all. Having Jungkook at your side made almost everything way better- and funnier. You felt more freedom now, knowing that you had someone at your side who would have your back if you did something bold. It was like Jungkook's presence gave you a sudden boost in confidence, Alex smiling every time you made a sassy comment, being a stark contrast to how you'd acted before. But that was just the effect he had on you.

You both later on ditched the rest of the group and decided to go back to the hotel room- simply because you insisted, even though Jungkook himself told you over and over again that he wasn't tired, sometimes even being interrupted by a yawn as if his body was trying to tell you how big of a lie his words were. You didn't mind at all that he needed a bit of rest, you loved sleep after all, and it was even better when you could sleep in the arms of a loved one like him. He immediately fell onto the bed, sighing in relief and you laughed at that, putting down your handbag before going into the bathroom to take off your makeup. It was still mid-day, but you honestly didn't feel like wearing anything anymore, rather happily grabbing your makeup-wipes and cleaning your face. Jungkook came into the bathroom, smiling as he took in your now clean face. "I love it when you don't wear makeup." He said, wrapping his hands around your middle and placing a kiss on your cheek. Ever since your little 'moment' a week ago, he'd been way more generous with his kisses around you. It seemed like he'd officially broken down an internal wall, like he learned something new and had to experience it over and over to really get the hang of it. And you loved it.

Back on the bed, you had your phone in hand, randomly checking your twitter feed for anything interesting, when Jungkook finally emerged from the bathroom, having insisted on taking a very long hot shower because 'look, I payed for this shit so I'm gonna use it'. You'd laughed at that and the fact that he insisted on having you shower with him, yet eventually giving up after you'd explained to him that that's dangerous, that you could slip and hurt yourself because you just knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself- that thought alone made him shut up, if a bit pouty. He had a towel wrapped around his lower parts, but the view of his bare upper body wasn't something unusual. He had a habit of normally sleeping without a shirt, and generally walking around the apartment without one on a day off for that matter. You didn't really knew why exactly he did that, but hey, you weren't complaining at all. He suddenly laid down on top of you in a teasing way, his arms resting next to your elbows keeping your upper body up since you were laying on your stomach. Of course he didn't let himself fall down, knowing he would probably crush you under his weight, but he also knew that you loved being this close to him, even if you sometimes made pouty remarks on how he was bullying you for being small. "what'cha doing?" He said, placing his chin on top of your head, trying to catch a glimpse of your phonescreen while you scrolled down. He became increasingly more touchy, suddenly running his fingers over your arms, moving his head to rest on your shoulder, before he eventually started to softly kiss the side of your neck. You had to admit it was hard resisting, but you liked to test his patience once in a while. "Yah, pay attention to me.." He whined, playfully biting the skin just above your collarbone, making you squeak, and him laugh darkly. Today, it seemed like he wasn't really up for playing. Because once he saw that you still refused to give into his advances, he eventually placed his way larger hand over yours, pressing the lock button on your phone before taking it from you.

"Hey!" You said, turning around and sitting criss-crossed while watching him place your phone on the bedside table, even making sure to connect the charger before turning around to face you again. His hair was still damp, his skin soft and still a little red on some parts where the water had heated him up. Even though his eyes held something mischievous and impish in them, you noticed just how young and fierce he looked; it made you remember just how much of an untamed person he really was. While you were someone attached to him like a newly grown limp, he was free to go wherever he wanted. Maybe he was just as uncaring then? Would he really slow down himself in order to make you catch up to him? Maybe he would. He'd shown you again and again just how gentle he actually could be, yet he also never backed down from a challenge with anyone. You really weren't as competitive as him, yet his nature had started to really colour your soul as well, making you bolder whenever he was around. Turning back time to the beginning of your relationship, you would've never seen you being so open with him like you were now. "You aren't even wearing clothes, gimme my phone back 'koo-" You started, but he'd seen through you already.

He smiled and crawled up to you, his towel getting caught under his knee during his movements making it eventually just lay on the matress underneath his legs as he towered over you, this time your body laying on its back underneath him and his gaze. You blushed chrimson, trying hard not to look down at all, and it made him laugh. "Oh baby, I don't plan on sleeping right now." He said, hands grabbing your wrists and putting them over your head. "And I don't need clothes either for what I'm about to do." He whispered, turning his head to the side and watching your face for a minute before chuckling. "Seriously doll? You've seen it all more than once by now, how are you still shy?" Moving his hands to run over your form, he stopped for a second, face serious. "Do you want to? We don't have to right now." He said, and you shook your head at that. You'd missed him. You wanted him too.

Moving to throw your shirt over your head, he instantly leaned in for a kiss, the newfound sensation now one of his favorite feelings with you. Back then kissing had been somewhat of a taboo for him; not because he didn't like it, but because he'd always been a hopeless romantic deep down, promising himself that he would keep a signature offering just as kissing for his actual lover, not just anyone he'd screw. It was such a meaningful gesture to him that he could not bring himself to kiss anyone other than you- but he'd never tell you that. That was embarassing. Your soft mewls eventually brought his thoughts back to you, moving his hands and lips away from where they had been to new destinations. Your lavender colored shorts had to go as well as your white lacy bra- and he smiled at the fact that this time was a rare occurance where you didn't match up your underwear. He thought about teasing you about it, but eventually decided against it, feeling way too needy for your taste and touch at this point. Suddenly however, you spoke up.

"Ngh, wait-" You said, and he immediately stopped what he was doing, eyes searching yours for any explanation. A blush covered your face and heaving chest, a view he would describe as heavenly if it wasn't for the slight concern that made its way through his brain. I wanna, uhm.." You started, but went into panic mode. How where you supposed to ask him that? You'd been so bold before with pleasuring him with your hands, yet you wanted to go even further- however, you never even saw so much as porn of it before, clicking away as soon as you thought you could watch it. Maybe it was really childish, but this was something you wanted to try, your curiousness getting the best of you at this point, but you also didn't know how to express that properly. Maybe he didn't even like those things, maybe he would be against it, and then the moment would be ruined and the night would become awkward as hell. His hand was placed on your chin, his thumb gently pulling your lower lip out from your teeth to stop your biting. This was your Jungkookie for god's sake, he would never laugh at you for this! (He actually would, just a little bit, but that was besides the point.) "I uhm.." you started again, before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. "I wanna go down on you too." You rushed, and waited for his response. Which did take a bit.

His eyes were wide open, and for a moment he looked just like the phrase always said, 'like a deer caught in the headlights'. You wanted to... what? It wasn't like he was against it or complaining, hell fucking no, but when did you even get that idea? It was always a little confusing to him how you could be so angelic, yet so mature at the same time. Suddenly his mind started to go nuts, visions of you on your knees in front of him, eyes so innocent staring up at him while he had his length placed inside your mouth- good lord. "Are you.. sure? You don't have to, you know-" He started but you cut him off.

"I'm sure, I just-" You said, playing with your fingers out of habit. "You would need to, you know, tell me how.." Jungkook almost growled at that. Of course that was your first time; and the fact that you trusted him so much as to ask him for this made his pride swell up- well, not only that, but right now he had other priorities. He gently traced your cheek, before moving to get a pillow from the bed, placing it on the floor at the corner.

"Alright baby." He said, and you nervously went down to kneel on the pillow, thankful that he didn't make you place your knees on the hardwood floor. But then again, he'd never do anything to hurt you whatsoever, so it wasn't too surprising. Somehow, even though you'd seen it countless of times you still avoided eye contact with his hard on, making him smile a bit. Your nervousness was quite endearing to him if he was honest, yet he would never voice that out loud. Instead, he slowly took your hands, placing them just underneath his navel, before he ran a hand through your hair, brushing it out of your field of vision for you. "Take your time pretty girl, just do what you think feels right." He said, voice low but steady. "I'll lead you on the way. Just relax." He spoke, hands never stopping his gentle reassurance. Even though you felt like you would never be ready, you slowly started to move your hands. At first you placed them on the inside of his thighs, getting a feel of it, before moving them to his hipbones and leaving them there. You slowly breathed to calm your own nerves before you placed a kiss on the side of him, making him breath out a bit heavier. Easing into it, you eventually took the tip inside your mouth, bitter and salty tastes combining in your mouth from the taste of his skin and slight precum. It wasn't unpleasant though, so you didn't shy away.

As soon as you started to suck just a little, his head fell back. His breathing was a bit shaky you noticed, and when you took a little more of him in, you noticed how the muscles of his stomach tightened. "Just like that-" He breathed out, getting interrupted when you swallowed around him a little as to not drool all over the place. You moved backwards to let him pop out before taking him in again, soft lips leaving a heavenly feeling behind. He looked at you with admiration, and if his mind had been trying to display an image of what you maybe looked like in this situation, nothing could've prepared him for the view he actually got. Second after second you got more comfortable in what you were doing, but it was when your eyes innocently looked up at him while your head turned a little to the side, hair bruhing his thigh, that he broke. A grunt was leaving his lips as you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. The way how you made something so filthy feel so romantic made him a little jealous- you always did things like this so effortlessly, while he struggled with writing a fucking birthday card the right way without making it sound over the top or cheesy. "God- yes-" He choked out, before you placed your free hand around the rest of him that wouldn't fit into your mouth, moaning a bit yourself around him. "I don't even have to- fuck- teach you anything-" he said, chuckling a bit under his breath, chest heaving and dusted in a mild watermelon shade, sweat starting to glisten on his skin. "you're such a smart girl, ah- you're my good girl, so so good, fuck-" He said, thighs suddenly trembling. His hand found its way into your hair, his grip tightening a bit without being too rough. "Baby I'm gonna cum, princess, stop I'm- ah-!“ He said, but you almost cockily didn't stop, instead swallowing again around him, before you could feel his cum heavy on your tongue as he actually whimpered out a moan. Your nose scrunched up a bit at the taste yet you swallowed it down, and he fell backwards, taking a deep breath. You moved to stand up, legs a bit sore from your position, laying down on your stomach next to him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "You really are something else dollface." He said, his hand placing itself behind your ear before he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. He didn't mind the slighty weird taste of his own release on your tongue one bit.

The way you could rile him up in a matter of seconds was witchcraft, he was sure of it, yet he didn't mind being cursed if it was you putting a spell on him. It didn't matter as long as he could be like this with you forever at this point. Was this what love actually was? His kisses were deep, rushed, as if he was running out of time again, but that was who he was. Jungkook was an impatient man, only slowly learning to take a break or stop and stare for a second. He'd been a selfish and hurried being before he'd eventually met you, nowadays starting to make time for things instead of squeezing his happiness in between seemingly important tasks during his day. Moments like these however made him fall back into his old steps, yet you didn't mind at all. This was just who he was, and you loved him either way. His hand travelled lower, eventually finding your folds, slipping between them with ease, your juices making every motion glide softly as ever. Putting pressure on your pulsing nub you mewled into his mouth, back arching off the matress and chest pushing against his, your hands grabbing the sheets in small fists before loosening up, just to grab them again. You gasped when he eventually let your lips go, instead playfully biting and sucking on the skin of your shoulder down to your collarbone, making sure to leave his marks on his way. His fingers eventually slipped inside you, curling up to have you moving to a beat only you both could feel. He took them out of you after a bit of making sure you were ready for him, impatiently pumping his length to get himself ready as well, before he grabbed his travelbag, opening it hurriedly and grabbing a familiar foil package. Ripping it open with slightly shaking hands, he rolled it over his sensitive tip, making sure it was properly placed before he joined you again on the now dishelved hotel bed. The first push made you both groan out, before you had moved your legs, heels placing themselves just above his behind, trying to keep him close to you. He sighed, swallowing between breaths, sweat now making his skin glow as the sun slowly peaked out beneath the clouds again, shining through the window, blinds drawing patterns of glowing stripes on your skin wherever it could reach you two. He whished he could take a picture right now, the entire scenery so sappy and aesthetic to him that he couldn't help but plead that he would never forget this view. He groaned when you started to clench around him. "Ugh, you're so good to me princess.." He pressed out between grunts. His pace picked up again, the sound of skin against skin ever so present in the room. "Such a good- good girl for me, yeah?" He said, and smiled when you nodded at him, hands grabbing at his biceps, holding onto him for dear life. Your orgasm came sudden, so sudden that it made you yelp a bit, an in your ears way too loud moan escaping- while it sounded like music to Jungkook himself as he released inside the condom inside you, body shaking as he slowly pulled out making you whine at him cutely.

You both laid beside each other, Jungkook putting the sheets over your body, knowing how easily you got cold afterwards. He curled up behind you after getting rid of his condom, pulling you as close to him as possible, sun slowly glowing warmer and warmer, before you both fell asleep.

"hey." Something touched the tip of your nose. You scrunched it up, groaning before pulling the sheets higher to cover your face. "No no, baby." The voice of your boyfriend was evident, sleep lacing it a little but he seemed to be awake. "If you sleep any longer you'll get a headache princess." He said, and you turned around again to face him, hating how he was right. "There you are. Good morning." He said, smile ever so present on his features. You remembered briefly getting up late at night and showering after Jungkook helped you with it, before falling asleep again. Now it was almost 11 in the morning, and you were surprised how long you'd slept. "We missed breakfast, but I wanted to take you out for some fast food anyways." He said, sitting up and making you smile impishly.

"Chicken Nuggets for breakfast?" You asked a bit timidly, and he chuckled.

"Only because you gave me head yesterday." He bluntly said, and you hid yourself again.

He really was the worst boyfriend ever. And the best.

"I still can't believe how that was your first time doing that."

"Please stop talking about it-"

"Oh I will. If I can get another one tonight?"

"Shut up 'Koo."

"Oh you love me!"

Yes. Yes you did.

Thank you so much for reading, and again, don't hesitate to send in asks for 'koo or the MC to answer! Much love, Bonny <3

[babylooneytoonz]

Fear - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: Anonymous (Thank you! ❤️)

Summary: Tommy and his second wife, Reader, an independent, successful business woman are living a fairly happy marriage until the reader finds out she's pregnant. Things take a wrong turn when their work life clashes with this news and in the end, the Reader takes a devastating decision. Without consulting her husband.

Warnings: Light angst , mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: Not my best work, I'm so sorry if it wasn't that good.

Gif credit: @nofckingfighting , @thepeakyfookinblinderss ❤️

By the time you and Mr. Thomas Shelby were celebrating your first wedding anniversary, you were swimming in riches, riches not given to you by your husband in love, but gifted to yourself by you, as a part of self pampering. You had been your parent's only child, a girl, and this is how you had been brought up, extremely loved and pampered, but still carved out in a way to face the hardships like a man. While men and young boys left England to fight the war, which included your father, who never returned, you took it upon yourself to take over his business of running the pub he owned, which automatically fell to you after his death.

Soon, your twenty third birthday was upon you, and you found yourself going to Birmingham city for the first time, with the motive in mind to expand your business and open a pub in Birmingham city as well. But for doing that, you realized you needed a plot, and of course, you needed the Peaky Blinders backing you– because Birmingham City was a city of gangsters, latched to each other's throats, fighting their own internal wars and an independent business run by a woman would hardly grow in a city like this.

So, you'd done what any other person would have done in this city. You had met the leader of the Peaky Blinders, who you had no idea would be your husband just two months after that encounter, with the mind to strike a business deal with him.

Of course, you didn't get the plot you had your eyes on– he was not ready to sell it to you for any price that you named, but you did end up piking the gangster's sudden interest. It was only two days after the meeting you started unknowingly bumping into him at all the odd places– the supermarket, the theater and even outside the railway station when you were travelling to and from London.

Finally, giving in to your own secret temptations– it would have been a lie to say that his icy blue eyes did not haunt you at nights, when you were alone in your cold bed ; or that you didn't think twice about his cheekbones, or imagined his taut chiseled body underneath his ivory shirt– you finally agreed to go out with him. And it was amazing. Tommy Shelby courted you for two months until he finally propped the question of marriage.

You could feel Aunt Polly's piercing gaze on you, but you didn't look up from the file you were going through, doing your math in your head, your glasses pushed over the bridge of your nose.

"Jesus, (Y/N), when was the bloody last time you had anything to eat?"

Polly tapped her manicured fingers against your desk, loud enough to make you snap your head towards her. You almost shrug your shoulders incoherently.

"In the morning? I don't remember."

Polly's lips broke into a weak exhale, her hand reaching out and grabbing your file, pulling it away from you.

"What the fuck?" You protested, trying to take your file back but Polly had it securely held, tucked under her arm.

"Enough, love. I'm not going to bloody sit and watch you starve yourself."

"Pol, I'm really not hungry." You whined but let the older woman drag you along towards the dining room anyway because you really needed to stretch your legs.

You and Polly stepped into the dining room of the Arrowe House, sliding yourselves down on chairs next to each other. While you slowly nibbled on a loaf of bread, Polly sat comfortably, her back resting against the backrest of the chair, a lit cigarette in her hand, her eyes on you. You grabbed the cloth, wiping the remainder of your food from the corner of your lips when a loud gasp escaped your lips. You looked down to see Polly's hand groping at your breast, causing you to wince and slap her hand away.

"For fucks sake, Polly? That hurts!." You snapped at her, only to watch a smirk break out over the corner of her lips.

"Sore you say?"

"Its-Its nothing." You whispered, your face suddenly feeling flushed. It was not a surprise to you, for you had known it since a week. The midwife that lived in back in London, the one your mother often went to, before her death, had confirmed it for you. It had been a week of planning and plotting, worrying endlessly, and you had still not made up your mind whether you wanted to have a baby yet or not.

"Does my nephew know?"

You couldn't help but swallow the bile forming in your throat. You had no answer because you couldn't build up the courage to speak to Thomas about it. You wondered how he would react. Of course, he was just as busy with work as you were. You two had two very similar lives. You were two devoted people, devoted and swimming in work and business. You doubted if there was a place of a baby in either of your lives.

"I peg your silence for a no. Let me ask you this, love. When do you plan on telling him? This is indeed a good news."

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Polly spoke again. You drew a faint forced smile over your lips, a pathetic attempt to mask what you were feeling inside – emotional turmoil. As if on cue, Polly's warm palm took your hand in hers, her fingers clasping shut around yours.

"What's on your mind?"

You parted your lips, unsure of how and what you were going to say to her. How were you supposed to tell her that you didn't think that neither Tommy nor you, were perhaps, ready to be parents yet? Your mind was distracted and your hand unknowingly flew to your almost non existent bump, unconsciously stroking over it. Finally, with a finality in your eyes, you pushed your head up and gave Polly a stare down. You knew what you were thinking was the biggest sin in the eye of God, but somehow, it scared you, thinking how this baby's life would be if you actually decided to have it. You feared how this little life that you had created with Tommy would be subjected to a life neglected by the both of yous. Worst of all, you had this deep, lingering fear coiling deep within the pit of your heart, that maybe Tommy wouldn't want it. So before you could let your own heart shatter, hearing him say how he didn't care for the baby that was growing inside of you, how he would ask you to visit this woman who was an expert to deal with these kind of situations, you will confront him yourself and tell him that before he can say it to you.

"I just – I don't feel so well, Pol." You pursed your lips and lied blatantly to her.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

Your eyes were fixed on the massive pendulum of the grandfather clock in the dining room, swinging sidewards, your palms nervously tapping against the surface of the dining table. You were waiting for your husband to return home because you couldn't delay speaking about this anymore to him. A part of you felt guilty for having kept this a secret from him from such a long time, after all, the baby was his as much as it was yours.

He had every right to know, even if you didn't want to keep it.

Your thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You waited a few minutes until a familiar silhouette approached the dining room, the footsteps getting louder and louder, probably owing to the fact that the lights were switched on. Tommy poked his head through the door and when his eyes fell on you, his eyes softened and he walked inside, towards you.

"Why aren't you in bed, love?"

You could see how tired your husband was, his eyes were droopy, dark bags crimson underneath his swollen eyelids, his face a paler shade. He never listened to you – he just worked and worked and worked, pushing beyond his capacities often, pulling in all nighters, mostly when you didn't even have a clue where he was or what he was doing. The truth was, it were all these reasons that made you feel not ready to be a mother, yet. What were you supposed to do alone? You didn't want to raise this child alone. Just having Tommy's name as his father but hardly ever getting to spend time with him, that scared you.

"I wanted to speak to you." There was a deep silence lingering in the room, only to be broken by the sound of your weak voice.

His lips parted in confusion, his usually calm ocean like eyes slightly widened. He gave you a shake of his head.

"Tommy, I –" You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat. Your heart was wildly hammering inside you chest and it felt like it was going to pop out any second. You took a step closer to him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"You want a divorce? Is that what this is?" Tommy's words caused you to take a sharp intake of breath.

"No! I – A divorce? No. I just – Tommy, I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Tommy froze for a split second, only to finally relax in his posture and reach for his box of cigarettes while his eyes were fixed on you.

"Is it true? Are you really?"

His voice was neutral, you couldn't figure out if he was angry or ecstatic.

"I know Tommy, I know we are fucking busy people, and there's no room in our marriage for a baby. Which is why I'm going to go see that woman the next town, to you know–" Your eyes had watered up and your throat suddenly felt parched. You slowly turned to your side, your face now shielded from Tommy's views. You quickly brought up your sleeve to your eyes and wiped your tears.

"You want to go to that woman next town? To get rid of–" It was as though Thomas was repeating your words to himself, his index finger swaying in the air. Suddenly, he took a step closer to you and snatched the lit cigarette from your hand, bringing it up to his lips, casually. He looked so casual, how could you even know that a storm of rage was brewing up inside him.

"Should I not, Thomas? Are you ready for a baby? Are you then?"

A part of you wanted to hear him say yes, a small maternal side of you, that had already started to love that little foetus inside you deeply. That part of you wanted Thomas Fucking Shelby to stop you and tell you that you two could work through it, that he would make this work. A baby. He would love to have one with you.

"I think it would be for good. You should take Polly with you."

It would have been a lie to say that your heart didn't break at his words. Of course, he wasn't ready. You gave him a weak nod of your head and turned around, walking into your bedroom.

Three days passed and the tension between you and Tommy didn't wash away. He barely spoke to you twice in these three days– not that you had wanted him to– you were as mad as he was. With each passing day, your anxiety and your reluctance had grown. But finally, the day was here. Today, Polly was taking you to this woman the next town.

You and Polly sat at the back of the car, a young Blinder boy driving you to the the location. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes at any cost, so you kept your eyes placed on the passing silhouettes of the old, greying buildings.

"Look at me, will you?" Polly's voice beckoned to you, forcing you to sharply turn your head towards you.

Her eyes were soft, you could see pale wrinkles under her eyes. Her warm palm took yours in hers and squeezed it.

"Us fucking women have been always forced to make difficult choices, love. You know I–" Her lips trembled, her eyes started growing moist. "– If I could bloody go back in time, I would stop myself from giving up on my children. I curse myself (Y/N), every night, even though Michael's here with me now, but I missed his childhood. I missed watching him grow. You know you don't have to do this."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and parted your lips, struggling to push words out of your mouth, to vent out how you really felt, so you lied.

"Polly, we are not ready to be parents. The life we live, as long as it's just me and Tommy, it doesn't worry me. But bringing a child into this world of crime, of death, it would be wrong of me to be so fucking selfish."

"And isn't it selfish of you to deny your baby the chance to choose his own life?"

It felt as though someone had wrapped his palms around your neck and blocked out your oxygen supply. Lucky enough, the car came to a halt and the Blinder boy turned towards you, his eyes drawn to Polly as he informed that you were here. Polly nodded and stepped out, you following.

The street was quiet and lonely, with not many souls in view, unlike the bustling streets of Small Heath. The woman's house was the corner most so you and Polly, wrapping your coats tighter against your bodies to shield yourselves of the chilly wind, walked along until you both were standing against an old looking door with a massive lock on it.

"What the fuck?" You cursed, frowning. "Are we at the right address?"

Polly nodded and shrugged, pulling out her box of cigarettes.

"Of course we are, this is where she lived. Wait, I'll ask the neighbours."

You kept standing there, underneath the porch as Polly walked up to the house next door, her heels clicking against the gravelled floor. You saw her talk to a woman with greying hair, their eyes momentarily turning and fixing on you, making you feel uneasy. Soon, the woman had shut the door and Polly was making her way back to you. You could see that there was a faint smirk ploying across her face.

"Well, seems like your husband was here."

"What? Tommy?" Your eyebrows perked up.

She hummed and nodded, her hand mechanically moving up and her cigarette pressed to her lips.

"The woman said that the Peaky Fucking Blinders paid the woman a visit, and ever since, the woman's gone."

It all made sense now. Of course, Thomas Fucking Shelby. You wondered if he had killed the woman, or just threatened her enough to run away.

"Do you know anyone else?"

"Unfortunately not, but I will see what we can do. For now let's just go back love."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You were fuming.

To say the least, your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Three days.

Tommy hadn't looked you in the eye.

But today you wanted to confront him.

Ask him the reason why he was interfering in women's business.

So you were waiting. Sitting on the loveseat in your shared bedroom with Thomas Shelby, tapping your fingers against your thighs. It was almost midnight when the door to your bedroom finally opened and Thomas walked in, as usual his cigarette held in his fingers. He had probably hoped to find you in bed , sleeping but when he saw the empty bed, his head sharply turned towards you at first before he forced himself to ignore you and move towards the closet to grab his t-shirt and his boxer shorts.

"Where is that woman Tommy?"

You saw him stiffen for a second before turning around and raising his eyes, until his blue eyes were fixed on yours.

"London, Bristol, I don't care where the fuck she went."

You stood up, walking up to him until you were standing in front of him.

"Why Tommy? What the fuck?"

"Why. Why? WHY? If you can decide and fucking come to a conclusion without even letting me know, why can't I eh?" He screamed, causing you to flinch and step back, still furious.

"This isn't fair Thomas, this fucking isn't fair. These are our matters."

Tommy suddenly grabbed you by your arms, his nails almost digging into your flesh as he almost shook you.

"What did you expect me to do? To just let you go and end what we had created?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes filling up with water.

"You said you didn't care." Your words came out a mere whisper and your body felt like jelly, almost ready to melt into his arms.

"Of course, I fucking care. Is that what you fucking think about me? For fucks sake, I - I know I might not be a good father, I might even fucking be like my own father but that doesn't mean I want you to fucking go and end what we created." Tears were brimming in your eyes and when you blinked, they spilled out, warm salty water rolling down your cheek, a faint smile breaking out on your lips. Tommy's expressions softened and he found his palm reaching for your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek, over your tears. "Why did it even cross your mind? The fucking thought of doing what you were going to do."

You closed your eyes for a brief second and fluttered them open again, leaning into his touch.

"How can we be good parents Tommy if we have a life of our own? Where you can't stop risking your life everyday and I'm not even sure if I would fucking see you again?"

Tommy looked like he could kill you. He had a burning red rage lingering in his eyes but yet, he had a soft look on his face, a look that was only reserved for you. He slowly let go off your arms, looking down at your stomach for a quick second and then back up.

"That child deserves to be allowed to live as much as you or I did, (Y/N). I don't care if I have to change my lifestyle. I don't care if I have to give up on some things that I did before this. I want this child, love. I want this. With you."

A small smile broke out against your lips, but as soon as it had broken out, it washed off again, when the realization hit you.

"Tommy, it's not easy. It's a lifetime commitment. From you. From me. It means keeping our baby safe from whatever it is that could potentially harm it."

His warm palms grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face upwards to meet his gaze.

"I promise you love, no one would lay a fucking finger on you or our baby and live."

You knew what he meant was true – every single word of it – and you didn't doubt on what Thomas Fucking Shelby could do for his family. This scared you a little but you closed your eyes, telling yourself to trust on the man that loved you, and who loved the baby growing inside of you, he would never let any harm come to you or your baby.

[ Tagging list : @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theamuz ]

[tls123]

do you have any xicheng headcanons

okay i don't know about headcanons but the main thing i suppose, is uh... well, i like it best when their relationship is built on them being on the same page + on equal footing. in general but also, given that i enjoy them getting together post-canon, specifically in the way they help each other heal and grow. i've read some fics where one does the healing and the other is just there to do all the heavy lifting and it doesn't feel right. it's so much more satisfying, both as a reader and from a character standpoint, when it's the both of them walking the path together; where they both give and take, where there's bad days for both of them, where the need for understanding comes from both. and i like when parallels are drawn between their situations/experiences but they both get to acknowledge that no matter how similar the overall story may seem, the circumstances are different, and so they get to support one another by also letting each other know that hey, what worked for me might not work for you and even if our situations were completely identical we're still very different people at our cores and so we will always handle/heal from things differently.

comforting but not patronizing, at time harsh (sometimes one does need to be snapped out of it) but never cruel.

but headcanons uh? i don't think i've thought of headcanons for a pairing i like in ages tbh but let's see if i remember how to do this lmao 🤔

i like the idea of them having different kind of knowledge/expertise, in a way that's complementary. maybe it's a bit bland as a headcanon, but the idea of jiang cheng having more hands-on and practical knowledge while lan xichen has the more literary, textbook knowledge covered is something i'm really into. as long as it doesn't get too... two dimensional? jiang cheng should still be well-read and lan xichen shouldn't be an incompetent fool when put in front of, idk, the mdzs/untamed equivalent of ikea furniture. i just mean this as their strengths lying more in those areas, if that makes sense?

they should be friends first, i want them to be friends first

the funny parallel to wangxian where, like wei wuxian can read lan wangji's microexpressions, lan xichen is an expert in deciphering jiang cheng's scowls and jiang cheng knows exactly which of lan xichen's smile is his 'fuck you <3' smile

they're both so powerful and strong and independent but i am a little bit of a sucker for the king and lionheart trope so i enjoy the idea of jiang cheng as lan xichen's Scary Shadow (god knows he doesn't need it but!! even if it's just to scare off people who have been talking lan xichen's ear off for two hours because they refuse to get the hint that, hey, maybe sect leader lan has other shit to do! it still counts) but that aside and given zidian, wouldn't it be aesthetically pleasing if they were to reverse the roles of wangxian's usual battle strategy? and so lan xichen would stand (mostly) in one spot and jiang cheng would twirl around him ahah purple lighting goes brrr (but also!!! it would then mean that they fit perfectly on the battlefield with their own brothers too. it would be a role they're used to, you know what i mean??? isn't that exciting?)

one of the best things i like for them is that they can let go a little, i feel like they'd be able to be honest in a way that is 100% real. jiang cheng is brutally honest and lan xichen doesn't lie but there is always that one last step of truthfulness that they won't touch, like a margin of error that they leave for themselves. and so i feel like they would recognize in each other (maybe jiang cheng in lan xichen first) a bitterness that is usually kept private. a bitterness that, with each other, they wouldn't need to soften or sweeten or hide. not only because they know the other one gets it, but also because they know it won't hurt them to see it.

i want them both to be flirts (in the right moments). i also want them both to have moments where they legit have no fucking clue how to react to the other flirting with them, where it gives them brain freeze for a second. i want them confident, but even the most confident motherfucker should have a 'oh.... me? were you just..?' kind of moment.

everyone and their mother thinks this but i might as well add it: lan xichen being the only one who calls him wanyin and, later, much later, jiang cheng being the only one who calls him lan huan (but only in private, otherwise i like him calling him xichen)

i feel like neither would be the jealous type but maybe sometimes it does get the best of lan xichen, though only rarely. jiang cheng is just too practical for that (he has other issues, give him this at least)

inspired by this post: you know those moments in brooklyn-99 where terry has to physically pick up rosa and then amy because they're in full bloodthirst mode? that has to happen at least once with these two. aaah idk something like: jiang cheng isn't even talking to wei wuxian at this point but the guy lets it slip that "actually lan zhan and i are already married" and in .2 seconds lan xichen has an arm around jiang cheng's waist and has picked him up to hold him back. but only to give wei wuxian a head start. he lets jiang cheng go a moment later because he's actually as much of a little shit as anyone else.

jiang cheng is a sucker and has no back bone it's all: "wanyin? :)" "no." "wanyin :'(" "fuck, fine!"

lan xichen probably just remembered how baby jin ling had his uncle tied around his little finger and thought he could learn something from it

speaking of babies...... lan xichen sees jiang cheng with a baby and almost dies on the spot (because jiang cheng is very much the gordon ramsey with kids vs with adults meme) "you saw me hold jin ling for years?? this is nothing new?" "...still." jiang cheng can only roll his eyes at that. and then he sees lan xichen with a baby lan disciple and yeah okay he gets it now.

watching them spar is fine most of the time, even fascinating because that is zewu-jun and sandu shengshou, but then sometimes it'll be just as disgusting as watching wangxian do.... well, anything really. and then everyone has to clear out of the training field to let them spar alone. they're not even doing or saying anything, it's all in the eyes.

personal preference is no terms of endearments because they have so many titles, so many roles, they're so many different things to so many different people that hearing their name, a name they don't hear from anyone else, would help take the masks off.

jiang cheng doesn't particularly like holding hands but 1) he won't mind if lan xichen wants to hold his hand and 2) honestly he makes up by giving those jiang cheng(tm) full-body hugs of his

i think i fell more into what's expected of headcanons in the bottom half of the list but i also feel like none of this makes sense so oh well. besides, these aren't things that are set in stone for what i enjoy for this pairing. especially when considering a fic's context and how that might change the way they interact with each other.

anyway! hope this was at least a little bit what you were looking for, like i said it's been years since i've been asked something like this! most of the time i just enjoy a pairing quietly in my own little corner of the internet lmao