#YES I'M STILL IN THE CLOWN CAR WHAT ABOUT IT

[delicrieux]

…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆⭒˚.⋆ chapter summary. he's more sensitive than he looks.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader warnings for this chapter. swearing wc. 3.5k author’s note. just wanna say a big thank u to everyone that stuck w this story and loved it along w me. there's still one chapter left, so here's some mini angst before our little happy ever after. also, i've recently realized that nothing actually happens in this story. there's no plot. you just hang out with gojo and the rest. that's it. no great fights or conflict or anything. just spending time with him.

ੈ ✩‧₊˚

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CHAPTER 13: the hakone incident

you wake up smothered in an embrace, which isn't uncommon.

what is slightly more uncommon is that gojo is wound around you so tightly that even his dumb, big paw has got your breast held hostage. not much there to sink his claws in, yet sunk they are, still. you wiggle and grasp and dig, trying to extricate yourself from this prison, but the soft fabric that rubs against his crotch with every small movement has him hissing in your ear.

“sa-”

“mine,” is the first thing he mumbles, words laced with sleep. he cradles you tighter, hides his face in your hair. you pat his arm, ignoring his sleep-addled state.

some sort of half-coherent mumble is slurred into your pillow as a response.

“not gonna bother translating that,” you utter under your breath – it’s too early to be irritated with him, and he doesn’t deserve it also, since he is much too cute. however, “lemme go? i need to go to the bathroom.”

“no,” he stubbornly refuses.

“don't be like that.”

a soft groan, then a kiss to the exposed curve of your neck, and one more to the edge of your ear. his fingers twitch at the flesh, kneading and tickling, “fine, i need to go too. let's go together.”

“you wanna hold hands while i'm in the stall or something?”

“yes.”

he is unreasonable, but that’s hardly a surprise.

you disentangle your legs from his, untying his arms from your torso, then turning to sit up properly. instantly, your stomach flips. in the bleak, early sunlight, gojo is the first thing you focus on, sleep-dazed and smiling lovingly in your direction. cheeks creased and swollen with grogginess, hair a complete mess, eyes still crusted. you wipe a drop of drool from the corner of his mouth with your thumb.

once, he told you that he always sleeps the best when you’re sleeping next to him. maybe that’s why he’s so clingy, “morning.”

“yeah?” he mutters. one hazy eye blinks, then the other, and you can’t help grinning at the sight, “hi. hello. good morning, how are you? ‘m just the guy you're looking for, can i be of service?”

you try so hard to press your lips into a thin line, but instead they stretch more and more, “c'mon, up. long day ahead.”

*

you had expected to take the morning train to hakone, but instead, with your bags dutifully carried by a lanky idiot, you are led to sleek, black car parked inconspicuously close to jujutsu technical. suspiciously, you eye the tinted windows of the driver’s seat, expecting a personal chauffer – which would be way too much, but also quintessential gojo. when the car keys jingle in his hand, you blink stupidly, smothered under the sunlight.

“you have a license?” you blurt.

“yeah,” gojo says smugly, opening the trunk and dumping the bags inside, “to kill.”

“the circus must be missing their clown,” you state sharply, though you feel a bit silly for not knowing such a thing about the man you have spent 3 years hating and a few months liking enough to be willingly glued to his side.

he snorts, fixing his glasses and shutting the trunk. all suave and cool, he opens the passenger’s door for you, “got any red lipstick in that little purse of yours? could kiss my nose a bunch of times, see if it honks after.”

the urge to shove your elbow into his stomach and watch how he doubles over in pain is almost too tempting, but you resist. after all, you do have the mind to enjoy the view of his flexing arms as you enter the vehicle, the sight disappearing as he circles around to enter from the other side.

the interior smells nice and new – it’s definitely expensive, but your knowledge of cars begins and ends in that they have four wheels and roll fast when you press a pedal. you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off his person, especially as his hand glides along the steering wheel. it takes a few moments of useless fiddling and some gears shifting until he begins driving. his hand seats itself upon your thigh, as though it had always been its intention.

“seatbelt,” he reminds, easily maneuvering out of the parking lot.

you slide the black band across your chest, buckling the lock, “thanks,” he mutters, palming your leg for good measure, “safe and sound.”

then, he slams the accelerator so quick and hard you're thrown back into the plush seat. the car screeches like a furious beast wrongfully insulted, engine purring loudly as its owner cackles. oh no.

here is where you learn that gojo is a terrible driver, as the speed limit is more of a loose guideline and traffic laws do not exist. he speeds past red lights that have you clutching the handlebar for your dear life, and he seems to delight in your mortified expression each time his eyes stray from the road, which is too much to be considered safe.

miraculously, you make it past the confusing and intricate tokyo streets in one piece and breathe a little easier. that is until you get to the highway, and he zooms between lanes like he’s playing a video game, jumping between cars and testing the limits of your patience to a level so extreme that you can hardly take it.

“could you slow down a little?” your voice has acquired a tremble, and you must be paler than you have been when you awoke. you think he’ll ignore you over the music, but he doesn’t.

he eases up just a little, and you remove your hand from the handlebar. it’s numb and tingly and aches from holding so tightly.

“i have some cds in the back,” he says, pinching your thigh. you think he doesn’t deserve to touch you like this, but unfortunately, it’s comforting, so you allow it. if you crash, you decide you will grab him and shield yourself with his body – his infinity will stop the impact, and you’ll probably live.

you twist and dig around, and once the cds are safely in your lap, your brows shoot up, “kat-tun?”

his lips stretch into a cheeky smile, and all of his grievances are forgiven with that, “they have a few good songs.”

“all of their songs are good!” you defend hotly. still, today is proving to be one surprise after the other – did he seriously listen to their whole discography because it’s your favorite band? if yes, that is very sweet. if he’s lying, well, you will not fight for the truth, because this has made you happy.

you change the music with barely contained enthusiasm and hum along. your initial impression must’ve been wrong, because gojo knows what he’s doing. he always does, and you reward him with a sweet smile for all of his efforts, which inspires him to lean for a kiss that nearly steers you both off the highway.

*

the first place you visit in hakone is not the hotel room gojo has rented, but the mall. you locate an expensive-looking restaurant and order your lunch – you, something modest and normal, and he enough to feed a family of seven. it’s always mildly fascinating to watch him chow down like his life depends on it, if not a bit off-putting.

“no one’s gonna take it from you,” you tell him when he slurps a noodle and almost chokes.

he glares at you over his shades, “shut up, ‘m hungry.”

you try to steal a piece from his bowl but he jabs your hand with chopsticks seemingly with the intention to break through skin. you yelp and shy away, wounded and afraid. he doesn’t even seem sorry.

he makes it up to you by treating you to coffee and a slice of cake, which he devours after you had a tiny bite. this is becoming a problem, but he looks very happy and doesn’t let go of your hand, planting quick, small kisses on the place he hurt, so you, once again, forgive him, as is the standard of your relationship.

shopping is next, and he steers you to each and every boutique that even marginally catches your attention. you pile everything you like on his arms, as though he was your personal assistant, and he, surprisingly, doesn’t complain. for the first half of you maxing out his card, he was stood outside the dressing room like a guard dog, shuffling back and forth, back and forth, waiting for you to pull back the curtain and reveal yourself so he could supply you with a verdict, which was always, without fault, “we’re buying that.”

he grew bored, though, and started whining that his feet hurt. invited himself inside and sat on the small chair in the very corner of the cramped space, very attentive when you changed in and out of your clothes. he even helped with the zippers and the buttons, and eventually, he got a boner from all this touching, so you had to stay for another good 10 minutes till he calmed down.

the blaring white lights, and you sweating. you stare at him, disappointed. he looks mildly uncomfortable, squirming in his seat and trying not to look at you, the mountain of clothes you discarded heaped on his lap.

“what am i gonna do with you?” you wonder aloud with a small sigh.

“i can’t help it. you’re hot.”

by the end of it all, you have acquired new perfume, a new set of luxurious makeup, and too many clothes to know what to do with. he carries your bags without you having to ask and leads you to get new underwear, but you make him wait outside the shop for that since you’re not risking another incident again.

*

when evening dwindles into night, he suggest a car ride around the city. the ocean breeze ruffles your hair when you roll down the window to admire the watercolor sights around you – the buildings, the people, the greenery, the mountain peak pitch black against the backdrop of the sky. you drive around aimlessly, and he's more subdued and mindful of the signs and the blinking traffic lights, his hand leaving your body only when he needs to switch gears. it always comes back with a little knead, and it always makes you smile.

“look, they're preparing for the festival,” you tell him as you pass by a closed off street of decorated stalls and convenience stores that look like they have been closed for the night, with two police men stationed across the entrance.

“you've ever been to lake ashinoko?” he questions idly.

“nope,” you turn another corner, the streets a little quieter, “it has the big torii gate, right?”

“yeah,” gojo hums, “we'll go there to watch the fireworks,” he seems distracted, “pretty stuff.”

“looking forward to it,” you reply, too interested in a display of colorful confectionary and sweets to decipher the tone of his voice, “where are we heading to?”

“dunno,” he mutters, knuckles slowly relaxing, “just around. you wanna head back?”

“nah,” you glance at him, a brow arched in curiosity. he looks oddly flushed. “you seem a little tired. wanna stop?”

“always worried about me,” he clicks his tongue, “’m a big boy.”

you pause for a moment. getou's words spring to mind, and you feel a bit nervous.

he's more sensitive than he looks.

maybe now's not the best time to bring up the clearly crumbling state of his best friend, but uncomfortable conversations don't have the luxury of waiting, nor do they ever fit into the right moment. you chew on your bottom lip in thought, as if the words would make themselves known without any effort from your part, but you find yourself no longer stuck on getou's haunting look but rather the way gojo seems a bit off his usual cheeky and snarky self.

you want to be a good friend. you care about both of them, and it hurts, in an odd, dull ache somewhere in your chest, when neither want your help.

is it so wrong to worry about gojo? you have come to terms with the idea that you like him, like him so much that sometimes, you feel half-crazy with a need to be by his side, constantly and without interruption, like today, like, hopefully, for many more days to come.

still, you are aware of the many walls and barriers he has erected to guard himself. and you, the person that likes him the most and has his attention almost at every given moment, still understand very little of who he is. you don't want to linger on the question if you ever will.

you must take example of haibara's endless positivity. step by step. even slow progress is still progress.

“i worry about everyone,” you eventually offer, more somber than you originally intended. still, it gets a faint snicker from him, and your cheeks puff with a mixture of amusement and relief. “you're not special, you know.”

“i hope that isn't true. i'd be crushed,” he teases back.

there it is. the little deflection that always makes you smile, despite how obviously it diverts from what's truly on his mind. it's a defense mechanism, you reckon. that said, you are not unaware that he has offered you little hints here and there, things he would only disclose in the dead of the night in the hush between soft laughs and your pillows.

without staring at him, you take a deep breath. heart light and fingers threaded against the seam of your shirt. here it goes, you tell yourself.

“i didn't used to worry so much, to be honest,” you confess, hoping he will at least listen before undoubtedly cutting you off, “but, i guess recently, i’m starting to see things from new perspectives. i know you don’t need it, but i still—”

he makes a sharp turn that doesn't seem coordinated enough, and suddenly, a stop-street opens to the left, overlooking a rocky beach and calm waters of the vast stretch of hakone's inlet. gojo parks dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and lets the air settle.

“honesty hour?” his smile is familiar to you, perhaps a bit too bitter to your liking. “alright. if we're playing this game, then i'd say that worrying is dumb, especially if it’s me you’re worried about. really stupid, actually. i don’t see the point in getting emotional over shit like that.”

“well, it’s not being emotional, it’s just—”

“no, shush,” he squeezes the length of your leg. you blink down at where he's touching you, and you look up when you realize he means to have the attention for just this. “look, what i'm saying is, i’m me, yeah? you can call me conceited all you want, but it’s the truth. i mean, i, okay, fine, fuck it,” he sighs, like he's annoyed, and you're just as grateful you can't fully see his expression as he likely is of yours, “a weak heart is not something to particularly proud of. i'm not someone that requires babysitting.”

this is likely the first time he has ever been so upfront about anything in his life, ever. maybe getou has seen this side of him, but even if that was the case, you'd never know for certain. you don't, however, appreciate the slight anger in his tone.

“no one's babysitting you,” you placate, careful to test his reaction before continuing, “we spend almost all of our time together, how is this surprising? and i don't think anyone would make an argument against you being the strongest, but you're still a person.”

you wonder when his hand slipped from your knee. he doesn't react for a good few seconds, as though gathering his thoughts, though you suspect, whether he was or not, this is not something he intended to dig deep enough to expose.

“well, yeah, duh,” he responds obtusely, but he offers nothing more.

this has gone about as well as you've expected, which is to say it has gone terribly, and it’s all his fault, because you were intending to go in a completely different direction.

“still a person,” he utters, and now he definitely sounds irritated, “the hell's that supposed to mean? you think i'm gonna roll over and let some curse get me or something? are you stupid?”

your stomach lurches like he has landed a heavy blow on it, and you need a moment to swallow past the ugly burn in your throat that your entire face stings with. somehow, what irks you the most is that you are hurt he would assume that you, of all people, would ever force something he doesn’t want onto him, as though the thought itself has made you a villain in his eyes.

as though stating a simple fact that he is human too is somehow insulting, somehow a threat to his title as gojo satoru and each and every connotation that comes with that honored name.

you have never asked him of anything. he's the one that started picking on you first, physically imposing himself into your life. he's the one that changed over the years and started showing new sides, he's the one that begs you to go on trips with him and buys you things and likes to hold you as he sleeps and complains that you make him horny even in situations that really call for tender affection instead of sexual advances.

you don't even ask him to like you like you like him, since you know that it would be met with harsh rejection. he would take it as a demand, no doubt, to be on your level – someone weak-hearted. his emotions have proven to be more volatile than his actions, and perhaps you’ve accidentally stumbled into something a bit out of your level of expertise. you can't brush it off with a snide, vaguely amusing remark like you usually would, nor do you want to.

you’ve changed, too.

still.

his hand is back as a vice around your knee. your jaw clenches.

that was uncalled for.

“you're being mean,” you mumble, your words hanging stale between you.

he sighs after what feels like an eternity, sounding long-suffering and tired,  “sorry. that came out wrong.”

“you've just started a fight for no reason.”

“what, you crying? tough luck, maybe try being—”

“fine,” you don’t let him finish, unbuckling your seatbelt, “sorry for getting so emotional. see you at the hotel.”

“what?” he snaps, head swerving in your direction with a new, searing glare, “no. jesus. just. no. what?”

“i’m heading back,” you insist, but you are stilled in your attempts at fleeing by his hold. it'll bruise if you really want to test how badly he's going to grip you, probably, but this unexpected argument has really shaken you. he's only ever been this prickly at the start of year two, when the sight of you invoked some long-simmering resentment that he showed by cowing at you from each and every corner, like some hellish echo, “let me go, please.”

“hold on,” his fingers dig, and despite how you try to swat at him, he doesn't budge, “there's no need for this. i'm sorry, okay? don't get out the fucking car, for fuck's sake, i'm serious.”

“satoru,”

“no,” he snarls, the sound sudden and vicious that you flinch from its force, “i said, no. i don't—you're not going anywhere. i'm sorry, okay, i'm sorry, i'm an asshole, i know, but just, just listen for a sec.”

you slump against your seat, lips pursed and arms tightly crossed in a way you know he finds childish but that, unfortunately for him, is a legitimate response to his infuriating behavior. to further throw him off, you make it very clear he does not have your attention, and that even if he did, it wouldn't do him any good.

you feel him slowly relax and tremble before petting at the little scratches he has accidentally carved in your skin in a way that lets you know he’s truly sorry. he lets out an uneasy sigh, fingers twitching every few seconds.

stillness. finally, silence, except for the wind that howls and the crash of the ocean below.

“i was talking bullshit,” he begins, the effort of it wearing him down to a barely audible, pathetic volume. “it's just, i can't... i don't know how, okay? that's the truth.”

“can't what?”

“you know,” he gestures ambiguously with the hand he isn't restraining you with, “there are certain expectations i gotta meet. i can't disappoint everyone. i mean, they wouldn't, i don't think, but... look, i'm sure you understand.”

“no, i don't, actually,” you snip, “i don't even understand what we're fighting about anymore.”

“i, just, it's, okay, whatever, fuck,” he thumps his head back against his seat, and the next words leave him in one big, excruciating spill, “i'm just not very good with feelings. this is all fucking crazy.”

like most secrets, they're out before he can reel them back. his lips slam shut so quickly that it turns into a tense line. you watch him, he watches you, and his face melts into something shameful. his eyes dart to the steering wheel and back, and you really hope he isn't planning on smashing the accelerator again to head face first into the rocks to escape whatever the hell is happening in this car.

“i'm not good at this,” he repeats slowly, painfully, as though you’re speaking different languages, “i don't want you to cry.”

“i'm not crying. i'm pissed off and i want to go home.”

“don't go home,” he rushes to say, “don't go anywhere. i'm not even sure where we are exactly, so just, calm down.”

“i can find my way,” you sniff irritably, and he suddenly looks utterly miserable, which you think is very unfair.

“christ, you couldn't even find the fucking bathroom in the mall, do you seriously think i'm gonna let you walk around alone at night cuz you're a bit angry with me?”

gojo really has a talent of saying the wrong things at the most right of times.

you scowl, “that's because i was following you!” yes, perhaps you did turn off your brain and mindlessly waddle after him, trusting him to deliver you to your desired location. is it a crime to be caught in the spell that is gojo satoru's enigmatic appeal? that should be considered a blessing instead of an inconvenience, surely, “don't patronize me. and if you don't quit being shitty, you'll be watching the fireworks alone, cuz i'm taking my ass to the first train and heading the hell back to tokyo.”

“sorry,” he bows his head, forehead softly smacking against your shoulder, “please don't go. i'm sorry.”

“sorry you went super shit on me?” you demand, still sulking, “or sorry you snapped?”

“sorry for... all of it, alright? i'll make it up to you. do you want new jewelry? you didn't get any. like earrings, or something. i'll get nice ones, okay?”

your eyes nearly bug out of your head, “huh? stop freaking me out. i sincerely hope you realize i don't hang around you to get free stuff. that's so shallow. do you even know me?”

“god,” he exhales heavily, like he's very, very close to banging his head against the wheel out of sheer exasperation. “i'm trying, you know. cut me some slack here.”

yes, you see he's trying his utmost best, and that's why you're already softening. but the sting still lingers. you will be gracious and assume that his attempt at buying back your affection was borne out of panic and is, overall, a genuine mistake, or maybe a show of something beneath the layers – who is he if not gojo satoru, the strongest, the richest, the prodigal son, the untouchable, unapproachable sorcerer? gojo doesn't deal with his mistakes gracefully. he overcompensates. he hides, and this time, he has failed to hide from you.

“and i don't want you to pay back the ice cream, either,” you finally mumble, tentatively reaching up to pet the mess of his fluffy hair as a show of good faith. an olive branch, because apparently, you will always possess a clearer mind than him.

he’s immobile for a second, and then he burrows even deeper into the material of your shirt, as though hoping to somehow melt away from it, and a heavy breath collapses out of him, “this is bad for my ego. don't ever take that control away from me. it's wrong. feels wrong.”

“fine. whatever. you win. happy? nothing happened, yada yada. friends,” you grumble.

“gross,” he groans, despite the clear warmth in his voice that makes your stomach flutter, “being a friend sounds a bit lame. but yeah. friends. and we're watching the fireworks tomorrow, yes? say yes.”

“okay,” you acquiesce, despite your reservations, “maybe.”

“yes,” he insists, stubbornly holding his position on your shoulder. he does, however, pout, and that lightens your mood significantly. “we are. right?”

“you have to be less annoying.”

“fine.”

“fine, and,” you start. you don't want to be cold with him, but you don't quite feel ready to let this go, “i want to sleep in a different room.”

he startles away from you like you’ve slapped him, “no. bad idea. forget it, it's not happening.”

“don't fight me on this, satoru,” you say, and his eyes widen slightly. “it's really not up for debate.”

“are you mad?”

“yeah,” you tell him, and it's true. “i'm not... mad-mad, but like. i need a little space.”

“okay,” he swallows thickly, like he doesn't like the thought of you so much as existing further than a ten meter radius from him, “got it. no problem.”

that must've hurt.

“just for today,” you assure him, “promise.”

he nods slowly. then, “can i… can i at least kiss you?”

you shake your head. no, not now. not yet.

“right, okay, of course,” he mutters emptily and sits back. with some space in between you again, you find his lack of warmth much more pronounced, not to mention the distance he puts there. for the first time today, when starts the car and shifts gears, the edge of his fingers doesn't brush your skin.

the drive back to the hotel is agonizingly silent.

additional author's note: i think dating gojo would be very difficult since he's so emotionally stunted that he can't express himself and he's too afraid to try. i think he would also have significant trouble being on the same level as someone he considers weaker than him (not in a bad way). the only reason he even formed a connection with suguru was because suguru, at one point, was also the strongest, and he was the only person that understood him on that level. reader isn't the strongest, and the connection she offers is really different than what he's used to. he lashes out, but he still apologizes sincerely. i also thinks he takes her for granted, much like he takes getou. he's supposed to be in control because he's the strongest, and he's likely troubled about his own feelings, that's why he's so frustrated.

don't be too angry with him, he's really trying :(

but anyway, stan kami-chan because she is a baddie and if a baddie threatened to leave me i'd be clawing at her begging her to stay too

tags (bold couldn't tag!). @shokosbunny , @jotarohat , @alygator77 , @fortunatelyfurrygiver , @finnydraws , @mastermasterlist1p1 , @eolivy , @letsmyy , @staruus , @k0z3me , @damnshorty , @kaeyakaikai , @n4melesspers0n , @midnightwriter21 , @sillymercury , @byakuya61085 , @stillnotherapy , @mydearchoso , @plutoisaghoul , @byerno6 , @bqvz , @harryzcherry , @noira-l , @your-sleeparalysisdem0n , @satoryaa , @cccandynecklaces , @stuffeddeer , @cherriee-ee ,

[jackhues]

CLOWNS AND CARS - PADDOCK PASS, BABY [ PART FIVE ]

in which y/n hamilton might've accidently manifested her dad's dnf (australia 24)

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y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & others

y/nhamilton: "what did it cost you (to convince these two to step away from the track)?" "nothing (one of my dad's signed hats)"

tagged: kimi.antonelli, olliebearman

pinned y/nhamilton: guys i know the actual line is 'everything'. stop attacking me, i'm sensitive -> user: i just choked on my water -> y/nhamilton: are you okay? -> user: yeah i'm fine now!

pinned y/nhamilton: @/landonorris see how well MY bracelet would match with that fit -> landonorris: you mean mine? you're never getting it back just accept the fact -> y/nhamilton: never

pinned y/nhamilton: swipe to the end to see a wallaby sniff oliver -> kimi.antonelli: not pictured is oliver screaming very loud and running away -> olliebearman: i'm literally being bullied by two CHILDREN

user: omgg pretty 😍

user: ollie in the third slide is looking up the way y/n normally does when they talk -> y/nhamilton: i'm not short. he's built like a giraffe

user: omgg look at kimi with the koala -> y/nhamilton: that's not a koala. it's a mirror

user: queen hamilton making sure no one featured on her page gets an ego 🤩

logansargeant: invite? -> y/nhamilton: boy you were sleeping -> logansargeant: so THAT'S what all of those calls were for

carlossainz55: 🫎🫎 ->y/nhamilton: 🫏🫏 -> user: i have no idea what this means and i never will, but i look forward to carlos' comment EVERY time y/n posts

doriane_pin: pretty girl 😍 -> y/nhamilton: marry me 💍 -> doriane_pin: 👰👰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 -> kimi.antonelli: what did i just see? -> y/nhamilton: congrats, you were a witness at our wedding!

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y/nhamilton

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, olliebearman & others

y/nhamilton: last slide is me watching the aus gp if you even care

tagged: lewishamilton, valtteribottas, maxverstappen1

user: I CARE!

user: y/n hamilton back at it with the gp dumps

charles_leclerc: where are the podium pics? -> y/nhamilton: you put that filter on all of the ones you sent. it's not the vibe i'm going for today

logansargeant: are you still depressed about the uno cards? -> y/nhamilton: yes.

carlossainz55: 🏆🏆 -> y/nhamilton:🏅🏅

user: nahh you can't be clowning ferrari. that's your new home -> y/nhamilton: i've got a year

lewishamilton: well... at least i made the photo dump (?) -> y/nhamilton: TWICE

sebastianvettel: since when do you have a cat? -> y/nhamilton: it's a reaction meme seb. i don't have a cat

ausgp: we'll be back next year!!

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TAGLIST: @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @somepeoplemaybe , @nothaqks , @theforevermorereject , @thatonesblog , @deviltsunoda , @xoscar03 , @mess-is-my-aesthetic , @d3kstar , @bwormie , @ietss , @sapphiccloud , @helaenatargaryensfavoritebug , @urfavsgf , @evie-119 , @raevyng , @khaylin27 , @champomiel <3

send a message/comment/ask to be added to the taglist!

NOTE: fifth part is heree! if you guys want to see something that already happened in prev seasons, send in an ask/comment! i meant to have this out earlier in the week, pretend it takes place before today! don't forget to like + reblog <3

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!femreader, social media au, (7/-)

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: see my masterlist 🤍

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yourusername: hello madrid 🌼 Liked by sofie.svava, frejaolofssonn, ona.battle and 1,289 others

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ingridengen Sweetest girl!!

username1 😮

marialeonn16 Floraaaa mi favoritaaa 😎

sofie.svava Yay, the princess has arrived! 👼🎀

albaps9 oh dear is the car still ok ↳ yourusername i'm a better driver than you ↳ albaps9 iM a bETtER dRiVeR THAn yOu ↳ yourusername you can't even drive manual 😙

janafernandez3 Aw, what beautiful flowers!! 😍 ↳ claudiaapina from her 'secret' admirer, I bet! ↳ jennihermoso Cough, secret admirer turned girlfriend, cough! ↳ ona.battle They're so goals together 😭 ↳ patri8guijarro Uhhh, you know who SHE is?!!! ↳ ona.battle 🤷‍♀️ ↳ __cata13 HOW ↳ janafernandez3 Just a little common sense, girls 😅 ↳ keirawalsh hasn't it been obvious right from the start or do i just spend too much time on social media to have seen it all happen? 😳 ↳ aitanabonmati The last one, you clown 😁

marisabel_rguez Have fun in Madrid, YN! Hope you have a good time 😎 ↳ yourusername ass 🤣

username2 hello, more MisaxYn content? 🤞

username3 Driving six hours to Madrid for funsies?.... hmmm I wonder why 😳 ↳ username4 she could've just taken the train but ok ↳ username5 Maybe the u-haul was already filled to the brim so she decided to bring the rest herself 🤭 ↳ username6 👀 ↳ username7 uhhh they wouldn't, would they? ↳ username5 Oh, but they might! 😌 ↳ username7 🕵️‍♀️🧐

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Text Messages

ale 🐻 You post a picture before telling me you've arrived? I love you pero can you please stop worrying me like that. I called you like so many times. ale 🐻 I just had the most nerve wracking seven hours of my life, you know?? you ○○○ you ALE you im okay im okay! you fuck i'm so sorry, my phone died and then i arrived and misa and sofie took me in and they immediately took me out to eat and i just kind of forgot im so so so so so so so sorry and i love you the most in the whole entire world. you're the best sister ever and i'm the luckiest shithead there is. t'estimo, t'estimo, t'estimo!!!! ale 🐻 Bé, I was just really worried about you, I didn't like not hearing anything from you. You're my whole world, too. Next time make sure it's fully charged when you know you'll go out for a long time. What would you have done if you had needed help? Not saying this to scare you, but you know that. So, how was the drive? Did you at least take a few breaks? you boring, lots of rain and traffic. aaaand no breaksies because i didn't want to arrive in the middle of the night bc the traffic had set me back some hours. misa has a game tomorrow and i didn't want her to lose any sleep 😅 ale 🐻Next time you take regular breaks, yes? I'm sure Misa would understand and want the same. Can you please Facetime mami? you i will. petons to you all and olga 😘 you and nala! Delivered

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↳ 6h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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Direct Messages albaps9 corrupting the missus to support real madrid, i see? misa, are you even trying to get along with alexia? 😂 marisabel_rguez Jeje 😆 Had to show her a little bit of our Madrid culture, of course! It's tradition to attend a game! albaps9 in the putellas household, it's also tradition to support barca, so have fun holding onto your head! albaps9 no, but all jokes aside. i might not have said this to you in person yet, but i want you to know how happy i am that you're with my sister. i don't think anyone else could've pulled her out of the deep end and love and treat her the way she deserves. you made her see her own worth again, believe that she was deserving of all the good things, and gave us our girl back. i'll never be able to properly thank you, but i want you to know how grateful we all are nonetheless. marisabel_rguez Thank you for telling me. But you don't need to thank me for doing all that. I love her, it's only normal that I treat her accordingly. She's my entire world, Alba. albaps9 i still don't think you realise how much your love and care for her means to her and the rest of us, and how it has impacted us as a family. but remember that we're proud to call you family too. okay? albaps9 unless you hurt her and end up destroying all the progress she's made, maria isabel. then i'll fucking come for you and alexia won't be your only problem. marisabel_rguez I would expect you to do so then! She's really lucky with you two. She loves you very much, so I'm also happy to be part of your circle. albaps9 🥹🥹 okay but you don't even seem the slightest bit intimidated? 🤣 marisabel_rguez Oh no, I know you're bark and bite! I just know I don't have to be afraid because that worst case scenario will never happen! albaps9 thank you misa ❤️

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tagged: marisabel_rguez, frejaolofssonn, carolinemoller_, haleyraso, yourusername sofie.svava: Supporting the boys with my favourite madridistas Liked by claudia.zornoza, carolineweir95, haleyraso and 12,493 others

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frejaolofssonn Gooooooaaaaal golgolgolgolgol 🤩

carolineweir95 Supporting the men but wearing Misa jerseys, I'm so here for it haha ↳ sofie.svava Someone insisted 🙊 liked by marisabel_rguez ↳ marisabel_rguez And we couldn't resist her! liked by yourusername

username1 Did sofie just... ↳ username2 Yes 😭😬😬😬 ↳ username3 she's removed yn from the tags now 🤭 ↳ username1 Too late man lmao

claudia.zornoza Vamos 💪🏼

haleyraso 💅🏽

username4 it sure is real love if someone raised on barca sets even one foot inside santiago bernabeu and it's not in the away-section liked by 12 others

username5 The Misa appreciation is spreading 😛 ↳ username6 and rightly so!! ↳ username7 I wonder who's behind that 🧐👀

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marisabel_rguez: Happy life. Liked by albaps9, bff2, jennihermoso and 18,329 others

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username1 we know who this is why dont u just tag her lmao srsly ↳ username2 Honestly, do they truly still think they're being slick 🤦‍♀️ ↳ username3 I don't even get the point in keeping it private, like what's the big deal? ↳ username4 maybe they just don't care but don't want to indulge people like you all

marialeonn16 😊

albaps9 ❤️ ↳ albaps9 but that tush will always be mine 😭

sofie.svava 💖

haleyraso Awww

username7 I love how they're slowly growing more comfortable letting the world in ):

sofiajakobsson 😘

bff1 ummm hey? hands to yourself. she's still my snookums until she officially has your last name 🤣 liked by alexiaputellas ↳ yourusername omg stop embarrassing me ↳ marisabel_rguez ✋🏽😳🤚🏽

ingridengen The sweetest together!

salmaparalluelo 😍

jennihermoso 👀

username4 You forgot the other half of the caption ↳ username5 Happy wife, happy life? ↳ username4 Ding-ding-ding! ↳ username6 don't think they'll get married so long as alexia is still lurking in the background 🤣

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yourusername: madrid, you were good to me!! (plus a little surprise i discovered at the petrol station on my way home. te amo mas que a la vida en sa) Liked by bff3, fridolinarolfo, haleyraso and 2,499 others

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albaps9 hmmm i wonder whyyyy liked by yourusername

salmaparalluelo Pls yn confirm that you-know-who and the anonymous admirer are the same person!! ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ yourusername hehe ↳ janafernandez3 !!!!!!!!!!!!! ↳ ona.battle We want to know 😱 ↳ marialeonn16 Oh, but we know 😌 ↳ ingridengen yup!! ☺️ ↳ jennihermoso 👀 ↳ ona.battle ???

username1 the note in the car is the cutest 😔

username2 I want a Misa too, care to loan her out?

alexiaputellas Proud of you and how strong you are. You kept fighting and look at you now. You deserve all this happiness, ma germana petita. T'adoro. ↳ yourusername t'estimo tant tant tant

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yourusername: feliç diada de sant jordi, la meva gent🌹 Liked by ingridengen, alexiaputellas, albaps9 and 940 others

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marisabel_rguez Horrible choice of clothing, I should give you some of my shirts to wear ↳ yourusername you're acting as if half of them aren't already at my place ↳ marisabel_rguez Right where they should be 😉

bff1 feliç sant jordiiii

begovargas 🌹

alexiaputellas 🌹📖🐉🌹

marisabel_rguez And I love when you speak Catalan!!!! liked by yourusername

janafernandez3 feliç sant jordi, el meu amic 🌹

aitanabonmati Feliç Sant Jordi, YN!

claudiaapina feliç sant jordi! 😊

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↳ 5h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 4h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story ↳ 1h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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marisabel_rguez: este camiseta 💪🏼 Liked by yourusername, sofie.svava, realmadridfem and 14,398 others

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alexiaputellas Visca Barca!!!!! ↳ yourusername be nice... 🤨

yourusername oh wow black is your colour too 🤭 ↳ yourusername (keeping the rest of my thoughts to myself bc alexia's lurking here) ↳ alexiaputellas Yes, behave... 🤨

sofie.svava looking gewd amiga!!! 😇

realmadridfem Nuestro orgullo 💪🏼🤩

haleyraso ✨👏

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username1: o-oka…okay.. ma’am 😳 Liked by username2, yourusername, username3 and 548 others

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username2 lucky person who gets to keep her ↳ username3 @/yourusername 👋 ↳ username12 how shallow of you ↳ username2 she's gorgeous??? and look at that smile 😪 ↳ username4 don't act like you didn't see the other two pics 🤥

username3 LOL HI YN

username4 yn we see you liking 🤣 ↳ username3 I can just imagine her kicking her feet and giggling

username1 okay i understand yn now ↳ username2 And you didn't before?!!?!? liked by 25 others ↳ username3 SHAME

yourusername 🤩🥹😳 liked by 120 others ↳ username5 and i oop- ↳ username10 🤣😭 ↳ username11 pls fangirl again it gave us life last time ↳ username6 girl don't hold back, we know what you're thinking ↳ username2 Alexia isn't here now, come on, let it go 🤭

username6 Misaaa

username7 😣

username8 🤯

username9 Hahaha Misa in that suit summoned yn again ↳ username10 can you blame her? 😱 ↳ username11 everything about that picture is making me swoon!

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yourusername: girl's trip to celebrate one of my besties getting married!!!! Liked by albaps9, bff2, bff3 and 5,439 others

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bff1 what happens in croatia stays in croatia

bff2 💃👩‍👩‍👧‍👧

username1 😍

judebellingham 😁😎 liked by 230 others

alexiaputellas Sunscreen! 😅 ↳ bff3 Don't worry, I'm on it! 😊 ↳ alexiaputellas 😊

username1 i want a friend group like that </3 ↳ username2 fr

albaps9 jealous!!

marisabel_rguez 😣

bff3 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

jennihermoso Guapa!

begovargas Sunflower in human form! 🌻

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Text Messages

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17:48 m 💌 I hope you're having a great time together. Don't forget to drink enough if you're out in the sun a lot! (And I don't mean alcohol, jajaja) ✓ m 💌 Ah, no... pls don't tell me you fell asleep in the sun again ☹️ m 💌 I have to go now so I'll call you later tonight. Te amo mas que nadie and take care!! ✓ 22:36 m 💌 Just saw your post. Are you trying to make me miss you even more? I miss seeing your gorgeous face, it always makes me so happy seeing you. m 💌 You know it’s been torture not having you around, right? m 💌 I miss you so much, YN ✓✓ you i miss you too, my love. the most. i'll be back before you know it! more rested than ever 😚💅🏽 and don't worry, i didn't fall asleep. we were on a boat! i'll tell you more in a bit on the phone. you soon we’ll see each other again, vale? we can go on a trip of our own. for now, just try not to miss me too much 😘 you sent you a photo ▼

m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 Oh, you fucking did not! you oh but i fucking did tho 🥺🥺🥺🙃 m 💌 YN. you si, chula? you ○○○ you misa? you i'm sorry you ☹️ Delivered

Incoming call m 💌

accept

"Are you alone right now?"

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a/n: wishing you the sweetest start of your week! i hope someone does something nice for you and if not, then here's a flower from me to you already 🌻

[munsster]

i'm so so obsessed with the winter in hawkins series!! i love a loser!steve and the kids pushing the steve x reader agenda

LITERALLY ME TOO! i am so glad u like it. truly nothing and no one compares to poor babygirl loser!steve. and now because i’m crazy, i came up with a billion headcanons for winter in hawkins au.

robin was obviously definitely the first one to notice babygirls longing glances (does that make robin olaf or sven in this situation…)

of course, steve was catching strays from dustin long before but it was all conjecture for like the first month

once robin pinpointed steve’s desperation and utter infatuation with you, she was hooked and intent on finding dumb excuses for the two of you to be alone

aka robin is the WORST instigator and only encourages loser!steve

yes, she thoroughly clowns on him, but her heart says steve x reader ftw

the rest of the kids find out because dustin will. not. shut. up! about it

again, thanks to auntie robin only fanning the flames

(they came up with a group name for their shenanigans: the secret society consisting of everyone who thinks steve is her prince charming OR the prince charming project for short)

(dustin uses the full name every time)

(the main points at meetings include planning your wedding, drawing your future children, and anything anti-brad)

speaking of brad, steve still remembers exactly where he was when you told him you got a new boyfriend

he cried in his car after work that day

robin was in the passenger seat

she cried, too

that was really what spurred loser!steve on

before that, steve was minding his own hopeless romantic business, but the introduction of brad put emphasis on the ‘hopeless’ aspect

honestly, steve’s just glad he still gets to see you every weekend for game night

brad is not invited to game night

you don’t think he’d come even if he was

steve hates brad

regardless of br*d, steve is not shy about complimenting you on anything and everything

sure, it makes him a little blushy thinking about how you’ll react

with that dazzling smile he adores

and yeah, theres a tiny wobble in his voice when he gets your attention

but you don’t seem to notice

and if you do, you don’t seem care

(you always notice, and you think it’s sweet)

“i like your hair like that”

“really? thanks, stevie!”

oh he melts

whenever you compliment him back, he takes diligent notes

one time he wore the same shirt three times in one week just because you mentioned how it complimented his eyes

he also got a big head when you told him his sailor outfit makes him look dashing

sometimes the kids write out lists of really good and not at all embarrassing pick up lines

sometimes these lists suspiciously wind up in steve’s glove box or tip jar

one time a list appeared in his wallet

it’s weird that they practically pickpocketed him but it’s weirder that they had access to his wallet and didn’t take the twenty

robin has a secret scrapbook dedicated to you and steve

it has secret pictures (courtesy of el), ticket stubs, cute stickers, and random receipts

if you couldn’t already tell, everyone is very normal about the situation

steve gets to know you so well that you actually start saying things in tandem

he knows your ice cream order, your coffee order, what temperature you like the thermostat, the name of your first pet

he’s never been good at memorization but it feels so easy knowing it’s all attached to you somehow

he will often bring you random little flowers that seem so small in the palm of his hand

it makes him feel very proud when you tuck them behind your ear

even more so when you let him do it for you

one late summer night, steve hosts a sleepover

OR the kids begged and begged him to either ask you on a date or let everyone use his pool for the night and watch a scary movie and stay up really late and eat junk food

so because he’s a loser, steve hosts a sleepover

and his heart flutters when you show up on his dimly lit doorstep with a gaggle of children behind you

they push past the two of you and barrel straight towards the back door

you warn him, saying you’re pretty sure only two of them brought towels

he chuckles and assures you that they do this every time and he already has a stack set out

you laugh in response and he thinks this is what a heart attack feels like

just imagine how he survived the rest of the night basking in your company and the soft moonlight

you sat next to him during the movie and fell asleep on his shoulder and he swears he’s never been so still

and the movie was really scary

steve wishes brad wasn’t such a dick

especially because he’s made you cry now on a handful of different occasions

steve’s flattered that he’s the first one you call, but he’s heartbroken hearing your choked sobs through the receiver

it’s kind of like a routine the way you always apologize for dumping everything on him and the way he tells you he’d do it any time

for you

at this point, he doesn’t care how desperate he makes himself seem

he really cares about you

steve likes you, and brad could spare a couple teeth

but he knows you love brad blahblahblah que sera sera whatever

he should’ve asked you out when he had the chance instead of sulking and pining

robin still has hope three months into the relationship

she knows for a fact steve still has a raging crush on you

those big brown eyes give everything away

and the way he gushes about your phone calls and your cute sweaters

something happens and i’m head over heels

steve has your gift picked out a month before the holiday season

little does he know, you’ve got his picked out, too

“i saw this in a shop window and thought of you…”

“i remember you mentioning that you wanted one…”

they really are just two losers fated to fall in love

sigh

more like this

masterlist

[undead-supernova]

Chapter 2 - Series Masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Eddie decide you're both showing up. grab some beer, bowl. let that melted cheese on your nachos bring you to a state of vulnerability.

wc: 6k

cw: bickering, smoking, bowling, and alcohol consumption

fic title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

I Saw the TV Glow was a big inspiration for this chapter. I don't know how to explain that. They couldn't be more opposite storylines. It did spark this idea so I still have to shout it out. And I listened to the soundtrack while writing it! Beautiful.

p.s. if you havent seen I Saw the TV Glow, you totally should. it's a very important story about queerness and one of the best movies to be released this year. anyways don't think about that right now. instead, go ahead and read this chapter that I'm very proud of. watch the movie after.

There once was a boy who made your impressionable heart swell. He was the class clown, the certified It Boy of your middle school class. Not a jock by any stretch of the imagination, all lanky and desperate for just a touch of peach fuzz on his upper lip. But he was charming. And funny. And cute.

He made the girls giggle and twirl their hair, imitating the exaggerations of television. They would wear makeup to school, always quick to pass around tubes of lip gloss as soon as they left their mothers’ cars. 

You, however, stayed true to yourself. You tried the natural approach, quite certain that he would like you if you didn’t act like the other girls. Sure, he never looked your way. He never gave you a second thought. But, for some reason, that meant something to you.

The day you were assigned a seat next to him in English, he’d forgotten his book. This was your shot. This was your moment. So you offered to share yours, heads huddled together to peer down at the pages of Catcher in the Rye. Your heart was pounding in your ears, shutting out the teacher completely.

After class, he’d thanked you. Asked for your name. Told you it was really pretty. Then he asked for your help on his next paper.

And you said yes immediately, a larva without the protection of a chrysalis.

You agonized over his papers, noting that he wasn’t necessarily the best writer or all that smart, but it was him. He trusted you with his words and that meant he could trust you with his heart. At some point.

Until the end of eighth grade when he invited you to meet him on the playground, behind a large oak tree that the kids used as cover to make out. You’d approached slowly, wearing the lipstick you’d stolen from the local pharmacy.

But when you peered around, you were drenched in spoiled milk. Milk. 

A chorus of laughter sounded and you watched in horror as your crush grinned at you like you were entertainment.

His friend handed him a five dollar bill and they ran off.

That was all you were worth.

After that, you thought you knew what hurt was. What it was like to learn your lesson and never allow yourself the ability to fall into something like that again. An unrequited crush. But that was before high school, where the boys got more clever in their humiliation. Fake love notes, getting handsy at dances before calling you a freak. 

You swore never to let a boy you liked be mean to you again. You meant it.

But never once did you believe it.

It’s just a bowling alley, you thought. Spending one night with him won’t kill me.

The parking lot was nearly deserted, outside of a few Hondas and a gray Chevy Astro. Two of the street lamps were blown out, the remaining three dulled by the fierce January chill. 

You wondered if Eddie would even show up. Maybe this was his prank, one with Ashton Kutcher as an accomplice waiting around in an alley and snickering to themselves. You’d believe it. He was devious enough to make it happen.

It would be a joke for the ages, after you’d applied makeup and spent time working on your hair. You’d put on something casual but seemingly more put together, a deep brown long-sleeved shirt, leaving the first two buttons popped. Layered on top was a cropped, dark green jacket with a hood. You’d settled for dark blue jeans and Converse, sure, but the muted nude pink lipstick you pathetically checked in the sun visor was a step above your usual stupidity.

But Eddie had been insistent about this and it hurt to admit it, but you believed him. In your hardest of hearts, you trusted his word. It was aggravating.

The clock struck seven and you gave yourself one last deep breath before you got out of your car and made your way to the entrance. 

Lanesman was a frequent spot for you, a solitary activity that gave you an excuse to revert to your childhood. After you’d moved back and took this job, you found yourself gravitating towards what used to bring you joy. Bowling with the kid bumpers apparently did the trick.

Working at a high school made you realize that growing up didn’t mean forgetting. It didn’t mean an automatic erasure of what used to soothe your blues. If anything, it reinforced your need for that promise of safety.

The lobby was beige and dull, walls smattered in faded neon paint that hadn’t been updated since your youth. A miserable looking teenager stood at the concession stand, frustratedly trying to get the popcorn to pop. 

As you scanned further, you felt something shock your system as you saw Eddie standing there, waving at you with his plethora of rings twinkling in a fluorescent haze.

He looked nice tonight, with a black Henley, jeans, and Converse that mirrored yours. He started towards you, leaving you to notice the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. A hint of black could be spotted underneath, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you wondered what tattoos he hid underneath.

But the thing that got you was his hair.

You’d never seen it down before, couldn’t even estimate how long you thought it would be. It hung in wavy curtains around his face and draped onto his shoulders. This was something you hadn’t seen coming. And here he was, sidling up to you.

“You’re early,” you started.

“Yeah, well,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m honestly shocked you showed up.”

“Yes, it seems that we are both in a state of shock.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ll have to trust me eventually, you know.”

“We’ll see about that,” you shot back, shaking your head.

He snorted. “Alright, well. I’ll get the shoes if you get the beer.”

“I can do that,” you agreed before giving him your shoe size.

Eddie lifted his fingers and shot you with finger guns. “Always believed in you.”

He winked. 

Frustration flooded your system as he held your gaze for a moment too long. “I’m leaving now,” you murmured before walking away.

“You do that.”

Yeah, I will, you thought. Dickhead.

You made your way to the counter where that poor kid held up a finger as he attempted to fix the popcorn machine. The sounds of the arcade in the other room projected into the concession area, electronic sounds and buzzers trying to lure children in. As if there were any here in the first place. 

Eventually you ordered, getting a pitcher of beer and nachos. As you waited for the cheese machine to whirl back to life, you found your eyes wandering over towards the shoe hut. 

Eddie was laughing at something the kid said before taking two pairs of shoes and heading towards the back where the lanes were. Those areas were covered in blue wallpaper with pink squiggles, glowing neon in the rotating lights. He faded into the glow, dropping the shoes onto the table. 

You wondered why he’d gotten here early, going so far as to avoid the observation once you’d acknowledged it. This wasn’t even including his attitude being much more reserved than usual. He didn’t mock you once in that entire interaction. 

The night was still young, though.

When you walked over, Eddie’s eyes lit up at the sight of goodies in your arms.

“Beer and nachos?” he asked.

“Got a problem with nachos?”

Eddie grabbed a chip, drenching it in as much cheese as he could. “No, but you will after I eat all of them,” he said before tossing it into his mouth.

“Of course you’d never leave me any,” you commented as you set down the cups, beer, and nachos next to the shoes. 

He swallowed before shaking his head. “You know I can just get us some more, right?”

You shrugged off your coat, tossing it over his. “So that you can eat all of those, too?”

“These are some harsh accusations.”

“They’re hunches,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on. Tonight’s supposed to be about starting over, remember?”

You knew he was right. This was supposed to be a truce. Where was your can-do attitude? 

You took a deep breath before saying, “Yeah, okay. Sure. Yes. Starting over.”

Eddie smiled at you before throwing out his hand. “Hi, I’m Eddie Munson. Nice to meet you.”

You stared down at his hand. “We’re doing this?”

His smile widened. “We are.”

“Okay, fine.” You introduced yourself before taking his hand in yours. Shaking it, you added, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“What do you do for work?”

You snorted. “Uh, I’m a freshman English teacher at South Jefferson High School.”

He gave you a surprised expression. “You’re serious?”

“Uh, yeah?” you asked, confused.

He placed his free hand on his chest. “I’m a freshman English teacher at South Jefferson High School.” 

That was when you realized what was going on. What Eddie was attempting to do. You were really starting over. And if he was animated about this bit then, fuck it, you could be, too. 

Enthusiastically, you exclaimed, “What? That’s crazy!”

Eddie grinned, sparking something inside you. “Isn’t it?”

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” you asked, fully playing along now.

“I don’t know! I’m in room 11A.”

You gasped. “I’m in 14A.”

“This is so bizarre.”

“I know. Small world, huh?”

In the silence that followed, you became aware of pressure that remained against your palm. The forgotten sensation that had your eyes lowering to your hand. They were joined, warmth being passed back and forth as your playful exchange came to a close. It felt like you couldn’t breathe.

So, you let go.

“Wanna bowl?” you asked, still feeling hazy. “With…me?”

Eddie coughed before sticking his hands in his back pockets. “Absolutely. Though, I have to warn you that I have the bumpers up.”

You smiled. “That’s the only way to play.”

Eddie won the first round. 

However, much to his dismay, you won the second.

It involved a lot of groans, snorts, and retreats to the beer pitcher in between turns. Overall, it was a pretty civil affair which surprised Eddie. He wondered how you felt about it.

The two of you now sat on top of the joint tables, having gone through a second pitcher of beer and demolished another helping of nachos. There’d only been one or two lanes taken up since you started, the room still in near silence outside of “I Wanna Love You” by Akon and Snoop Dogg playing over the crackled speakers. 

You sat close to one another, mirroring each other. Both you and Eddie were hunched over, feet planted on the chair in front. But as the conversation continued, you were turning closer to one another. The distance didn’t really feel like distance anymore.

Eddie was finishing off his final sip of beer when you suggested, “What if we did honesty hour?”

He glanced over at you, slowly lowering his cup. “What, like ask each other questions?”

“Yeah, and the other person has to answer. Nonegotiable.”

That was rather brave of you. And bold. You avoided any and all sense of trying to understand him. Not once did you ask him a question that wasn’t drenched in kerosene. Plus, what did you know about honesty? You grew defensive at any hint of curiosity and hostile when he reiterated whatever you told him. Could this really be considered progress or just a chance to seem like the good guy?

“Oh, I don’t know if you could handle your own game,” he challenged.

“What!” you exclaimed, lifting your hands.

He shook his head, unable to believe you were seriously that shocked. “You always have this look in your eye,” he said, wiggling his fingers in your face.

“What look?” you asked, slapping his hand away.

“Like you’re withholding information.”

One of your eyebrows twitched. “Is it wrong for me to keep some things to myself?” you argued, a forced chuckle leaving your lips. “I don’t need to tell you every thought in my head.”

“Why not?” “Because you make fun of everything I do!”

Eddie shook his head again, your irony bordering on comical. “You get mad at everything I do. Why do you get to be all high and mighty about it?”

“Because at least I keep my opinions to myself.”

“You make your opinions very clear, actually.” You rolled your eyes. “Okay, so are we gonna start or what? I don’t wanna do this if you’re gonna keep getting defensive.”

You let out a small groan. “Okay, yes. Fine.”

“We’ll start off easy, okay?” You nodded. “What was your favorite part of Napoleon Dynamite?”

You chuckled, catching him off guard. Then you smiled and an unexpected ease filled his chest. “Oh, most definitely Napoleon test tasting the milk.”

“It’s so nasty,” he agreed, feeling a laugh escape him. “Almost as good as the part when he watches Pedro ride his bike and asks if he can too and—”

“And he breaks the ramp!” you finished for him.

He nodded emphatically. “Yes, exactly!”

“I loved it. It was really funny.”

“What can I say? I have good taste.”

“You have one point,” you told him, holding up your pointer finger. “One.”

He shrugged. “That’s one more than yesterday.”

“Guess that means it’s my turn to ask a question?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I have a few more.”

“What? I came up with the idea.”

“Yes, but you always dodge answering anything honestly.”

“As if you don’t say anything other than,” you lowered your voice, “Oh, look at me. I’m so cool. You’re just jealous ‘cause I’m just so cool.”

Eddie snorted. “And what do you think you do?” He raised the pitch of his voice. “What? How dare you! Stop that! Ugh. I could never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “I do sound like that.”

“Finally rolling an eighteen for once.”

You paused. Eddie watched as you looked down. “Did you just…” you trailed, eyes slowly coming back up to meet his. “Did you just make a Dungeons and Dragons reference?”

“Maybe.”

A loud chortle flew through the air as you exclaimed, “Oh my god! You’re a nerd!”

He rolled his eyes. “Nerd? Really? Are we in high school?” You gave him a playful shrug. “The fact that you know the rules means you’re just as big of a nerd as I am.”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed. “It’s not a bad thing. It just feels like. Well. I don’t know. I guess, to me, it feels like you’re a real human being now.”

“That’s because you have forgotten to ask me anything about myself.” You opened your mouth, but he beat you to the punch. “Which you can do after I ask mine.”

“Okay, fine,” you replied with a huff.

“Do you actually enjoy teaching at SJ?”

“Of course I do,” you said too quickly, eyes narrowing.

Eddie shook his head. “Defensive. I really am asking. It’s not a trap.”

“Fine, fine,” you agreed, holding up your hands. “I enjoy what I’ve started doing. I mean, I don’t think I’ve made the impact that I’ve wanted to, which was why getting the opportunity to do this full-time was really exciting.”

“Do you think this’ll be a long term thing? Teaching here?”

“I hope so. Maybe not forever, but I want to right now. I think I owe it to these kids who’re already in such a vulnerable phase in their lives. It keeps getting scarier out in the world. The least I can do is try to help make it easier with the small pocket of time I have in their lives.”

“That’s really sweet,” Eddie whispered, and he meant it.

“Oh, thanks,” you whispered back. “I mean it.”

“Does your family live around here? Or your, uh, boyfriend.” He panicked when you raised an eyebrow. “Or girlfriend. I, uh, I don’t judge.”

Shaking your head, you said, “No, my family isn’t around. I haven’t seen them in over a year. I moved back and then they moved across the country. Besides, we barely call. We’re all bad at using the phone. I write them sometimes, but it’s usually attached to cheesy holiday cards.” You looked down at your cup. “And no. I don’t have a partner of any kind at the moment.”

“Interesting,” he said.

“Do you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I what?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”

Eddie almost said, “Why do you wanna know?” But you were making real progress for once. He couldn’t fuck it up now. Not when your eyes were returning to his, brave and unafraid now.

“I do not,” he answered. “I don’t have a partner of any kind right now.”

“And your family?”

It was his turn to cower away. “Yikes,” he whispered, planting a goofy expression on his face to soften the blow. “Uh, yeah. My dad’s in jail and my mom passed when I was a kid. My uncle lived around here but he actually met a nice guy so now they pose as roommates in Ohio.”

“What’s in Ohio?”

That was your answer? To everything he just said, giving you the basics of a fucked up childhood, the only thing you had to respond with was a question about what state his uncle and his boyfriend settled on?

“Dave, I guess,” he replied, studying your lack of expression. You let out a hum and nodded. “Does that not, like, weird you out?”

“What part exactly?”

“My parents.”

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

“Hm.”

“Do you want me to be weirded out?”

“No, I…” Eddie trailed before taking a deep breath. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

You nodded. “Then you’ll be absolutely ecstatic to know that I am far from being weirded out.”

“Incredible,” he said lightly, trying to force out a laugh. He sobered up quickly when you gave him a closed-lip smile. “Last question.”

“Hit me.”

Do you really hate me?

He blinked. “Would you go outside with me and share a cigarette?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

So you climbed off the tables, grabbing your jackets and heading back out the front door. Eddie had been eyeing your appearance all night, especially the lipstick you’d donned. You never wore lipstick at work and you hadn’t the last few times he saw you around the city. Why now?

If only asking questions didn’t get him annihilated. 

“I’ve actually decided I want my own,” you said, turning toward him.

“Of course you do.” Your breaths fogged together as you chuckled. “Are you finally gonna try a Marlboro Red?”

Your smile bordered on mischief as you pointed your thumb at the parking lot. “I mean, I have a pack of Newports in my car. I could always go get them.”

Eddie shook his head, slipping his pack out of his jacket. “Nah, I don’t trust you to come back.”

Snapping, you said, “Damn. You foiled my epic evil plan.”

“I see right through you.”

“You sure do.”

Eddie held out a lone cigarette for you to take. You gave him a small smile before plucking it from his fingers and sliding it between your teeth. He tried handing you the lighter but you shook your head.

“You’re not gonna light it for me?” you asked around the cigarette. “Some manners you’ve got.”

With only a snort as a response, Eddie lit both of your cigarettes at the same time. The smoke swirled through the air, mimicking a blanket of snow you were sure to get in the next few weeks.

The banter between you was nice. Eddie had made his peace with the constant back and forth, but nothing felt better than this. The two of you being civil and, if not friends, friendly. Your scowl had faded, leaving behind your gentler expressions. If he didn’t find you beautiful before, there was something almost explosive about what he saw now.

He wondered what it was like to grow up so wondrous. What kind of kid you were and whether you experienced the atrocities that he had in high school. What did you turn into after, when you could grasp at the sleeves of freedom? Did your fingers ever slip?

You bent down to stub out the cigarette before tossing it in the trash can next to the door. Eddie watched you, wondering how he could keep you from leaving. Sure, you probably weren’t thinking about leaving. But. Still.

He needed more time with you. He needed more time to understand you. And if you were to walk away from here tonight without divulging those details, he thought he’d explode. Especially when you’d be back as coworkers the following week.

So, he got an idea.

“We should go to the little arcade inside.”

“Why, so I can beat your ass?”

“Woah there!” Eddie exclaimed. “Trash talk. I like it.”

You took a step towards the door, watching as he flicked his cigarette out onto the pavement. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Before you could pull any further, Eddie was taking the handle from you. “I should do it more often,” he replied, gesturing for you to walk through.

“It’s only ‘cause I’m a little tipsy.”

“You didn’t have to drink the beer. I mean, it is kinda shitty.”

You shrugged. “I’ve been having fun. Sue me.”

“Then you’ll be excited to know that the arcade is the final showdown.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, think about it. I won the first round. You won the second, right?” You nodded. “So who is the winner?”

“We could tie and practice good sportsmanship.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You giggled. You fucking giggled.

It jolted him. It wasn’t lightning, but rather the shock of static electricity on an unforgiven doorknob. 

“You’re right,” you said with a shrug.

God, he really fucking liked you.

“We’ll play three rounds,” Eddie started, fiddling with the coins in his hands. “First are Galaga and Target Terror. And then, for our final showdown? The claw machine.”

“The claw machine is rigged,” you argued. “We’ll both lose.”

“Yeah, with that attitude.” You snorted. “You can’t know if you don’t try.”

Instead of whipping up some witty comeback, you trudged over to the dusty Galaga machine, noting that one of the coin slots was shattered.

Eddie came to stand next to you, plopping a coin in your palm before you thrusted it into the unbroken slot and took off.

One thing you’d failed to mention up until this point was how shitty you were at any and all arcade games. You’d once thought Galaga was your favorite, something you gravitated towards as a kid. The flashes of neon against the black, with only specks of color to create the illusion of a night sky. It always drew you in, the feeling that you were escaping somewhere outside yourself. Outside of the reality— 

“Oh, come on, really?” you exclaimed as you failed. 

“You’re just smashing the keys,” Eddie groaned.

You shot him a look. “But that’s what you’re supposed to do!”

“Well,” he started, bumping your hip with his. “Doesn’t matter now ‘cause you’re dead. Officially. Time for you to scoot over. Come on.”

Reluctantly, you switched places. 

And, boy, were you immediately intimidated.

Eddie was a whiz, all calm and collected as he focused on the screen like his life depended on it. His fingers stretched, skillfully defending space from the countless hoards of aliens and other creatures that dared to cross his path. 

He finally died at the low low score of 140,820. 

“What the fuck?” you muttered as he took a step back and grinned at you.

“So that’s, what, two points now for me and one for you?”

You tried to suppress your glare. “Good job,” you said through your teeth.

Eddie gave you a bow. “Why, thank you. Sometimes it pays off to be a nerd.”

It wasn’t that you were a sore loser. But you were with a sore winner. Now it was time to get your revenge. How you would do that was beyond you, but you had to try.

“Come on,” you told him.

Your next destination was the Target Terror, taking the red gun before he even approached. For good measure, you turned and pretended to shoot him. Eddie let out a dramatic gasp before clutching his chest and falling to the floor.

Laughter tumbled out of you without any thought, made boisterous when he twitched and kept making the stupidest noises you’d ever heard before finally playing dead.

“Bravo,” you complimented.

Like a flattened cartoon character, he regenerated and sprung back up to his feet. 

“I’m a natural, I know,” he responded, sliding coins in for you both.

“Yeah, you should be the next drama teacher.”

He grabbed the blue gun. “I actually think I’d kick ass at it.”

He didn’t sound like he was joking.

As you went to shoot the start button, you couldn’t help but look over at Eddie. He was checking out the gun and deciding on his hand placement as if that mattered. But you were thinking about something else.

Eddie was a good guy, wasn’t he? Take away his revolting arrogance and inability to keep his mouth shut and you could see a person underneath. His ambition mirrored yours and maybe, just maybe, his heart had been in the right place all along. Maybe there was more to him that you wanted to learn.

You wanted to be his friend.

Eddie caught your eye, pausing to look up at you. “What?” he asked. “You waiting on me?”

“Um.” You made yourself look back at the screen. “Yeah, I want to win fair and you’re taking too long. So. Uh. Let’s play.”

Without another word, you shot the first level and the two of you were off, trying to kill as many bad guys as you could. Though, they were kinda lame, just some guys in hoodies and sunglasses. A few of them were women which you appreciated, but they were the only ones who seemed like they had any real backstories. 

You tried not to sneak a glance over at Eddie’s score, but you couldn’t help it. You were winning. He seemed to be struggling, glancing over at you every so often. His frustrated looks sat in your peripheral, leaving you with a shit eating grin on your face as you took your sweet time. 

“What the hell,” he said when it hit game over.

You pretended to blow smoke off of your plastic gun before putting it back. “You were just smashing the trigger,” you said. “So, that’s, what? Two points for me, two for you?”

Eddie sighed. “Guess I deserved that one.”

You smirked. 

The claw machine was the final destination, lined in yellow and emitting a neon glow. Turning to look at Eddie, you saw the neon illuminating his dark eyes which were solely on you. 

You nearly did a double take, suddenly overwhelmed by the exposure.

“What?” you asked.

“What?” he retorted, smirking.

“You’re staring at me.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re really pretty.”

Your gut twisted again. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Yeah, of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?’

“I feel like you look at me as some, I don’t know, clownish hag or something.”

“Clownish hag?” he repeated.

“Or something.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re just saying that because that’s how you see me.”

“You think that I think you’re a clownish hag?”

“Isn’t that why you’re so annoyed by me?”

“No, I’m annoyed by you because your goal in life is to make mine miserable.”

“Sure, yeah. Let’s go with that.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you see me then? Hm?” “I mean, a guy like you already knows how pretty he is. I don’t think I have to be the one to tell you that.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Pretty, huh?”

“What?” you asked, blinking.

“You think I’m pretty, too.”

“Objectively, yes.”

“Objectively,” he repeated, snorting.

“You can’t deny it.”

“Only if you don’t deny finding me pretty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. Come on.” He gestured towards the machine. “Go ahead and try.”

Your eyes lingered on him for possibly a second too long before you returned your attention to the claw machine. Hitting the start button, you moved the claw around the box. You were sure this was going to fail. There was no other way for this to go.

Eddie called me pretty.

It was a rigged system. You give them your money, left with the unspoken contract that this was a game of chance. You paid for what you got in the end. No take backs. No refunds. What you ended up with was what you ended up with. There was no return to the way things were before you gave away something so special. 

Eddie called me pretty.

But in the end, there really was nothing left to lose. So, you slammed your hand down on the button.

Eddie called me pretty.

Slowly, the claw extended and fell against a small tiger plushie. It clamped down on its head before slowly rising. You gasped as it stayed secure and moved towards the safety box inside. Then, the claw opened.

And you won.

Almost simultaneously, you and Eddie erupted in shrieks, jumping up and down as you stared at the machine in disbelief. 

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed.

His eyes sparkled. “You did it!” 

“I know! That was crazy!”

Eddie laughed and gave you a high five. “That was amazing.”

You shrugged. “I’m the best, what can I say?”

“Can’t disagree with you there, sweetheart.”

You felt your eyes widen, mirroring the same exact movement now coming from him. 

Sweetheart.

Of all the names you’d been given from crushes, part-time lovers, and partners, never had you heard the word sweetheart.

It sent a wave of bubbles to your gut before floating up, up, up and into your throat. You tried to clear it, but nothing could get it out. Eddie held your stare, seemingly unable to make a comment. Unable to call you out for what you surely knew he knew despite you not really knowing for yourself. 

What was happening?

“Eddie?”

You heard him take a sharp inhale as his name left your lips. It was the first time you’d uttered it out loud. To yourself. To someone else.

To him.

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded, slowly. “Anything.”

You could feel yourself unraveling. “Do you really want to be my friend?” you whispered.

Eddie’s expression softened. “Of course I do.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even blink.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The catch in your throat was enough.

Eddie’s hands lifted, fingers slowly curling around your cheeks before bringing your lips to his. 

It was the meteor you never saw coming. A gentle kind of impact. It’s intense and explosive, but there’s safety. Somehow, Eddie’s the reason why. 

He was gone too quickly, not giving you enough time to process why he was making you feel this way. But his eyes met yours and suddenly he was the breathless one.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, taking slow blinks.

You didn’t know what to say. Too many questions were caught in your throat. Was this manipulation? Was this real? And if it was, did that mean he liked you? Did that mean that you liked him?

But Eddie began to take a step back and it angered you to no end.

“Don’t you dare,” you grumbled, grabbing onto that stupid open collar of his. “Come here.” You pulled him back toward you, connecting your lips once more.

The trance fixed itself, your brain struck with neon pixels of excitement, of bewilderment. There was this need to completely consume him. To take his breath as your own so that you may understand who he is and what makes this so different.

You knew you’d never be the same after this ended.

Eddie was quick to reverse the roles, turning you around pulling you to the other side of the claw machine, hiding you both. You had no problem shoving him against the wall, both hands on his chest now. 

He broke through your arms, reaching for your jaw once more and dragging you closer. As if that were possible. As if there was any space left between your bodies. 

It wasn’t desire. It was necessity.

Your fingers locked around his hips, digging your fingernails as hard as you could. It was instinctual, like there was no other way this could go.

He let out a deep moan, sounding more like a growl than anything else. It sprung you further as you pressed your hips against his. You found friction and chased it without hesitation. 

Hands moved down to your neck, squeezing ever so lightly.

Your goosebumps rose like static electricity. 

But then someone cleared their throat. Loudly.

You jumped away, turning to find the kid from the counter. “Uh, yeah, hi. Please stop making out in the arcade.”

“Oh, sorry,” you said.

All he did was shrug and walk away.

Slowly, your heart slowed down and you dared yourself to look back at Eddie, his pink lips coated in your lipstick.

His eyes were already on yours, but you could see little flickers to your lips. It restarted that pumping, pushing you to take a step forward.

So did he.

His hand found your elbow and drew you forward.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“That was…” he trailed.

“It was what?” you asked, feeling dread pool in your stomach.

He paused. Too long, your thoughts echoed. Too long.

And that’s when it finally hit you.

Eddie hadn’t given you a second glance before the book club debacle started. There was no indication of interest or intrigue, settling on December as the start date of his ventures. December, when it was finalized that the two of you would be sponsoring together. 

He’d come into the break room for lunch. He had to know you’d be in there, had to know already that you were co-sponsors. Why else would he try to rile you up? Why else would he try to befriend you?

He was tricking you.

This had been his plan all along. 

He was trying to get you to forget all about the book club. He was trying to take it for himself. You knew he’d certainly read enough books to know how to do it. 

This was what men did. They got you alone, vulnerable, and then stabbed you in the back. Their games were always the same. 

You’d grown up, but you were still just as naive as you were at eleven. Fifteen. Nineteen. Twenty-five.

“What am I doing?” you wondered out loud, glancing at him one last time before you turned and walked towards your coat and purse.

Eddie didn’t follow you.

Once more, you smoothed the wrinkles in your white button down and red floral skirt. Your heel-clad feet ached as you leaned against the desk at the head of the room. Next to you was Eddie, back to his bun and waiter uniform. He stood a few feet away, but you were more than conscious of his presence.

It was cumbersome, lighting your skin on fire as you gave fake smiles to every student filing into your classroom at three-ten in the afternoon. The tension was palpable, found in the awkward silence that rested between the two of you.

One by one, the students sat down and made small talk with their friends. They laughed and giggled, eyes flickering over to you two every so often.

But at three-fifteen, you heard Eddie clear his throat.

“We’re going to start by re-introducing ourselves,” he started.

You both said your names.

You couldn’t help but glance over at Eddie, watching as he did the same.

Quickly averting your gaze, you took a quick breath and looked back at the kids.

“So,” you said. “Who wants to go first?”

requested tagging: @anukulee, @twihard28, @doorlesscub00, @whisperingwillowxox, @ubiquitous-corvids, @kellsck

thank you to @littlexdeaths for her dividers :')

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.10

Omg Im so sorry I'm not consistent with posting, it's my nans 70th so I am off this week so I should be able to be a bit better

Also my bestie's bestie and her wife got tickets to the eras tour without me and are going today so I needed Logan to comfort me - hence the posting 🤣🤣🤣

There be hysterectomy talk in this one

<<Part 9 Part 11>> Masterlist

Logan seemed to have fucked most of the anger out of his system. Not all. He was still frosty but he now spoke with you, entertained your small talk. 

“You hungry?” He asked, various fast food joints passing you by. 

“Yeah.” The nurses had given you food but after certain activities you weren't going to pass anything greasy up.

“What’d’ya want?” 

“Literally anything.” You scanned the street and pointed to the McDonalds. “That'll do.” Can't go wrong with a Maccas. 

“What you thinking?” 

“I dunno, do they still do the big n’ tasty?” 

“No.” He pulled into the car park. “You want to go in and look at the menu?”

You did but time was of the essence. “As long as we're quick.” 

“We can be quick.”  He hummed, reversing into a space.

You both hopped out of the jeep and entered the building. It was fairly dull in here. Wasn't McDonald's colourful? Full of children's characters and clowns? It was grey and brown and sleek and boring. 

Logan walked past you and tapped on a screen. It displayed all the different menu categories. 

“McDonalds has screens now?” You laughed in disbelief. You tapped the ‘whats new’ option. Everything had gotten bigger. There were larger nugget meals and burgers and wraps. 

Garlic cheese dippers, selects and all sorts of tasty goodness. 

You chose yourself a triple cheeseburger meal and some nuggets on the side. He picked a chicken box, a Big Mac meal and an array of sides. 

“You sure that's all you can eat?” You joked. 

“Fast metabolism.” 

“Are we going to be able to fit this all in the car?” 

“Yeah.” He pulled out his card. 

“Oh wait!” You quickly pressed the back button and ordered a strawberry milkshake. “A peace offering.” 

Logan's brows pulled an inch but he didn't comment. Laura was yet to have a milkshake, diabolical behaviour on your part. 

Your order number was 66. There were a lot of numbers before you so you perched on the back of an unoccupied booth.

Logan stood straight next to you, as though he was standing guard. So you decided to take advantage of that. Of him watching out for you. Your mind wandering to your ‘new’ body. You could heal. That was crazy. You still didn't understand the science behind that. The TVA had painlessly taken blood, spit and plasma samples. They had checked you for any diseases the Void could offer but the illuminati didn't. How did they have your materials to meld with the regenerative ones? Maybe they didn't. Surely they wouldn't just experiment with you though. Hopefully you weren't a guinea pig. 

“How fast you reckon it's gonna be?” You questioned looking at your wrists. 

“I dunno, twenty minutes max?” Logan turned from the screen to look at you. 

“No.” You giggled. “Healing.”

“Oh.” His eyes flickered to where you had exposed your wrist. “I wouldn't know.” 

You thrust it towards him. “Will you do the honours?” 

“Are you being fucking serious?” He stepped back. “After everything I've said you think I'd just cut you?” 

Okay okay, that was maybe a poor move on your part. “I guess?”

He rolled his eyes. “Ain't happening.” 

You grumbled but formed a field, manipulating it into a thin disc, making sure one edge was paper thin. Even a paper cut could show you.

The slice you had planned didn't work so you had to try again and yes! Well, maybe don't be too happy.. what would Dave say?! 

The cut was teeny. It was about ten centimetres but the little dot of blood told you it wasnt superficial. There was at least an element of actual harm. 

“I hate you.” Logan folded his arms. 

“No you don't, just watch.” 

The cut did nothing.

The two of you just staring, transfixed, at your wrist. 

“Maybe it has to be deepe-ahhh.” 

You could feel a warmth, it was hot. Red hot. And your skin was stretching. You could feel it tying itself together. None of this was really visible but the line did close. You had imagined healing wouldn't hurt... Yet here you were. 

You smirked up smugly. “It works!” 

He huffed but you could see how happy he was. His eyes were lit and his lips had tugged upwards. 

“Brilliant, eh?” 

“It's pretty good.” He kissed your crown. 

~~

You couldn't wait for the lift. Too excited. But taking the stairs wasn't an option so you did in fact wait for the lift. 

Gosh it took fucking forever.

Logan hadn't let you out of his sight, barely leaving to collect the food bags. He was really fucking happy. 

You were going to be safer than ever. 

All he could imagine as you lay in the hospital bed was “what ifs”. He knew it was entirely possible that he could hurt you. He knew he had nightmares and had had to buy a new mattress before due to them. He knew his claws came out when you fucked so what was to stop them when he was scared?

He hated the ideas so he projected them onto the one that had hurt you. 

Laura.

Laura was him. 

He'd never deny that. 

She was a younger version of him. 

She was the one that hurt you and I'm a way that spared Logan. 

She was to blame. 

“Laura!” You called as soon as the elevator doors opened. “Baby?” Jogging towards her door. 

You then halted. 

“What-ho-how do I approach this?” 

Logan didn't know. If he hurt you he'd be fucking distraught. He would kill himself a few times just to feel nothing, to stop the guilt. “Just be yourself?” 

You let out a whine but carried on and knocked at the door. It was open. The pressure of your knock opened the door. 

“Laura?” Your voice was unsure but you pushed the door the rest of the way and entered the dark home. 

The curtains were drawn and the lights were all off making it almost impossible to see her slip through the bedroom door, looking worse for wear, and stick to the corner. 

She was still wearing the clothes she had worn that night. Blood covering her hands and splattered across the mateiral. Her hair was unwashed, her eyes hollow, she hugged herself as she watched you move into the room. 

“Baby.” You raised the cup. “I finally got you that milkshake. It's strawberry. I think chocolate can sometimes be a bit meh so strawberry is the next best.” Why were you rambling?

Laura's eyes flicked to the cup and then to your ever present shadow: Logan. 

“I'm gonna… put it on the table?” You placed the cup in-between the two of you. “It's nice." 

She didn't make any movements.

Let's just cut to the chase then. “Laura, I'm fine.” You gestured to yourself. “In fact Tony Stark was able to alter my genes. I heal like you and Logan.” 

Her brow twitched. 

“Look.” You repeated the field and sliced across your arm. Laura's eyes widened and she gasped at the blood. Ah fuck. Maybe you shouldn't have. “Laura, just watch. It takes a second then it w-orks.” 

She watched your skin sew itself back together and her eyes watered. 

“Baby,” You weren't going to stand there and let her cry. “I'm coming over.”

She didn't back up, letting you stride to her. You immediately pulled her into a bone crushing hug, and she sobbed into your shoulder. 

“I'm fine and I don't blame you.” You repeated over and over again. “I love you.” She clutched onto your back, her body shaking with sorrow. “I don't blame you. You're my baby and I love you.” 

Logan took a step forward causing her to tense. 

“Lo stay back on this one.” You shushed into her ear, threading fingers through her hair. “It's okay Laura, he's not going to do anything.” 

It took a while but she did ease back into the embrace, her tears slowly creasing. 

Laura stepped back, looking at you with fat wet eyes. She gave you the tiniest nod and stepped around you to pick up the milkshake. 

She handed it to you and you took a drink. “I'd never poison you, love.” 

Laura seemed satisfied that you didn't die so took a drink herself. 

You could see the thoughts zooming through her mind. It was cold. Thick. Tasted unlike anything she'd had before. But she liked it. 

Laura drank silently from the straw and gave you the smallest hint of a smile when she released it. 

“I knew you'd like it baby.” You grinned down at her. “Right, we have to get you cleaned up.” 

~~ 

You'd run the bath for her and insist she hop in. Laura removed the crusty clothes and did follow your instructions. Neither of you cared that she was naked. You were past that. 

“Is it warm enough?” 

She nodded. You'd all become accustomed to cool water due to the Void so we're careful when running baths or turning the shower on. If it was too hot it felt suffocating. 

You dunked her sponge into the soapy water and plucked her hands in yours to clean them. The movements were methodical. You cleaned her wrist, then her palms then her knuckles and lastly her nails. She's ripped off the false ones, leaving her natural nails on show. 

When the water was a burgundy colour you let it out and refilled the tub. Laura sat and watched. “We're going to do your hair now. Tilt your head back.” 

You flicked the tap to connect it to the shower head and turned it on. The water splurged out and you hummed softly to undercut the noise. Laura let you rinse her hair. There were bits of dry blood and a leaf? in it. El had said she had run away. Good on them for finding her and bringing her back. Good on El for replacing the mattress and bedding. You'd have to thank them. You loved them so dearly for looking after her. 

Laura's eyes were tired by the time you'd finished. She stood and you wrapped a towel around her shoulders. 

She sat on the lip of the bath so you could towel dry her hair with a smaller towel and comb it. 

“Someone looks sleepy.” You kissed her nose. “C’mon, let's go to bed.”

She took a shaky breath and frantically shook her head. 

“It's okay.” You shushed her. “I'll take you to bed but I won't get in.” 

It broke your heart to see her allow that. You wanted nothing more than to tuck her under your chin and sleep soundly with your bubba. 

Laura pulled on a night shirt and eased into the bed whilst you quickly ran the spray over the tub, erasing any signs of blood. 

You found her in the bed waiting and sat next to her. Your hand smoothed her hair and you found yourself humming a long forgotten tune. It took seconds for her to sleep. 

~~

Logan was on you in an instant - the second - you walked through the door. He squeezed you tightly. 

“I'm okay.” You reassured him. “She's just-it's weird seeing her like that. She's normally so strong.” 

The two of you parted and you let him kiss your forehead. “You're a good mom.” 

You chuckled. “It's not easy.” 

“No.” His head shook. “But you are.”

You don't know why but the determination in his eyes made yours water. You sniffed and looked away. “She likes milkshakes.” 

“Of course she does.” He shrugged. “I do.”  You rolled your eyes at his reply but before you could argue he spoke again. “I'm sorry. I've been a dickhead.” 

“I can get why.” You placed a hand on his sideburn. “I do. But she's just a kid.” 

He nodded and kissed your palm. “You have no idea what would've happened if I lost you again.” 

You did know. He would've gone fucking feral. He would've killed Laura, then the others would've gotten involved and they would've fought and killed and not cared for the consequences. “You didn't lose me.” 

He smiled and bent his neck to kiss you. You met him halfway on your tiptoes, replicating the same amount of need. 

You both knew you were fucked. The world was fucked. Both were damaged goods. The chances of finding each other was next to none yet here you were. Kissing in your shared apartment. 

“I love you.” You whispered into the kiss, Logan used that to his advantage and delved his tongue into your mouth. You hummed letting your own dance with his. 

His hands cradled your face and spine. His palm was so big against your cheek, it made you feel safe. At home. He would protect you. 

You had to break the kiss to breathe, panting against his ear as he kissed his way to your nape. He loved your nape and you loved the way he nipped and sucked it, it was him claiming you. Him owning you. And when he bit down on your neck all your feminism flew out of the window. You would do anything for this man.

The hand on your cheek had travelled down to your chest, cupping a breast and giving it a delicate squeeze. You were still wearing that Deadpool set, with no actual cup, so when his thumb grazed over your nipple you felt everything. 

Logan wasn't one for slow. You knew that to be true because of the way he fucked you previously. But here he was taking his time. Savouring each hitch and groan that tumbled from your lips. 

You were actually being a bit useless here, letting him kiss and fondle you without doing the same. Quick to remedy that your hands found their way to his belt, fingers grazing the skin under his vest, and you tugged him that bit closer.  

Logan crowded you now. He was all you could see, hear, taste, smell and touch. He was all you needed. 

“Logan.” You breathed onto his lips, kissing him again. His lips were smooth, a nice juxtaposition to his gruff hair. Oh, but you loved the scratch. He was so manly. So hairy. He was everything rolled into one. 

You sensually licked his lips as your fingers unhooked his belt. 

Logan's half lidded eyes watched you as you pushed your tongue further out, keeping eye contact as you bent to make your mark on his neck. 

He groaned as you sucked, tongue swirling across the marred flesh. It then made its own way to his chest, kissing and sucking where the vest would allow. 

You gave him one look and he immediately removed the fabric. “Good boy.” You whispered against his pecs. Kissing them and letting your teeth catch certain areas. 

Logan watched with a baited breath and you slowly sunk to your knees. The unbuckled belt sitting at his hips as you unpopped the button, pulling the zipper all the way down. 

He let out a shudder when you nuzzled your nose against the visible boxers. Tugging the jeans down so you could kiss him through the fabric. You'd never get over how big he was. 

He was long and thick and if you thought his dick looked comically large in your hand you knew it would be difficult to swallow down. 

Still though, you teased him through the fabric. Kissing his head and sucking the wet patch. It was gloriously salty. 

“Y/N.” He muttered his hand making a home in your hair. 

You looked up at him as you pulled him from the boxers. His mouth was permanently set in a small ‘o’ but it widened when you licked a stripe from shaft to tip. 

You loved this. This fearsome warrior. This feral beast. The reason to genetically alter you, to ensure he was happy. Was putty in your hands. He would do anything for you. 

Maybe it was fucked up at at this precise moment you understood his plight. Why he was so angry. Why he had taken it out on Laura. She was technically to blame - never in your eyes though - and you got why he snapped. 

You sucked the head again before delving deeper. Yeah, you were right, it was far too big but you had hands for a reason. 

Pumping with your mouth and hand you make sure to be delicate. For some reason you wanted this to be soft. You wanted to treat him. Your Logan hadn't minded a bit of teeth but you tried your hardest to keep them away. 

He was trying to suppress his moans, trying to keep cool but he was dying. You were perfect. 

How were you this perfect? 

How did you know what he needed? 

Every fucking day! 

It was like you were a mind reader. 

Maybe you were. 

Maybe they'd altered you that way as well. 

Logan's hips urged to jut forward but he didn't want to ruin this. This was something he hadn't really experienced. This was sweet. This was soft. 

He was quick to fuck but no this wasn't that. You were being too nice for this to be called ‘fucking’. He hates to say it because you were literally just sucking his dick but this was definitely on the “making love” spectrum. 

“You're perfect.” He groaned out. “I fucking love you.” 

You hummed in response and he had to quickly pulled himself out. He could've spilt right there and then.

“Bed.” He ordered. “Now.” 

He wasn't going to cum in your mouth, no, he was going to fill you up. He was going to fuck you so full of his cum. He wanted you dripping.

You frowned cutely, your lips swollen and pouting was fucking amazing. Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were glassy so as he lifted you - pulling you closer - he got to see you. To really see how messy you were. Hair out of place and a line of drool on your chin. Fuck.

He wanted you.

He was going to lock you in the room.

You were his.

No one else's.

“I'm going to fuck you full of my seed.” His lips spoke against yours, not kissing you just touching you. “I'm going to fill you up.” He'd never felt like this before. “Breed you.” 

You shuddered and smiled but then your brows pinched. 

“Logan,” You pulled back to look him in the eye. “I- I don't have a womb.” 

The man stopped in his tracks. “What?” 

You chuckled. “Why else do you think we've been fucking the way we have with no consequences?” 

He made a noise. It made sense. He hadn't smelt the change in your cycle like he had the girls. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“I didn't realise you didn't know.” You looked guilty. “I'm sorry.” 

“No.” He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Don't be sorry.” 

You groaned non sensually. “Have I just killed the mood?” 

“No.” He shook his head and kissed your nose. You knew he was lying. 

“Logan. Don't shut me out, be honest.” 

“I'm just surprised.” He was truthful. “My Y/N had hers.”  

You bit your lip. “If I tell you what happened the mood will definitely be killed.”

He was curious. “C’mon.” He tucked himself back into his boxers and pulled his jeans back up before leading you to the sofa. You sat down, tucking your legs under your chin. He was sitting facing you, giving you his full attention. 

How do you say this in a way that won't set him off? Couldn't you go back to sucking his dick? That was so nice. You sighed. “The scar on my back...”

He lent forward, elbows on his knees. “I'm going to get angry again aren't I?” 

“Stryker had this man in his possession. He could make you see whatever he wanted you to see. Logan didn't know it was me.” 

//

It was confusing to wake up in the infirmary. Jean and Beast looking down at you. 

“Y/N.” Jean breathed in a sigh of relief. “I was worried.”

“You always fix me up.” You joked, feeling very sore. Your back and stomach were aching. It felt alien to be in this much discomfort. 

“We had to perform a procedure on you.” Beast clasped one of your hands. “It's very serious. You will be fine but we had to make a decision.” 

“Okay?” You were even more confused, trying to sit yourself up a little. The pain in your stomach didn't allow for that so you flopped back down.

“You were pierced by Logan and flung across the facility. When you landed you hit your front. A piece of piping damaged your womb and we were unable to save the organ.” 

As Hank spoke you got flashes of the scene. You didn't recall a pipe but you remembered the agony, calling for an evac. Begging for Logan's help. 

“To save my womb..?” You slowly understood. “So I've had a hysterectomy?” 

Jean tried to sooth you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “It is a small price to pay, we could've tried to save it and risked infection, risked your health.” 

“I'm not upset.” You told her matter of factly. “I'm just trying to figure out what happened.” You weren't upset. It wasn't a thing you'd thought of at this age. You weren't really the mothering type. Yeah, you looked after the students but that role was more ‘wine aunt'. You weren't fit to be a mother. Logan would be a good dad though. Oh, you'd have to tell him. 

What would he say? 

He'd naturally be upset he hurt you but would he forgive himself just to dislike being with you? What if you being unable to give him children was an issue? 

~~ 

You'd been transferred to your room. It was lovely and cosy. Blankets everywhere, pillows strewn and the wooden accents of Xavier's mansion felt more like home than being with your mother. 

You wondered how she was. What would she say about you being barren?

Sitting and sulking was how you spent your days. Food was brought to you - as you couldn't really move - by different members of your family. Scott brought flowers, Ororo made you a gorgeous curry, Jubilee gifted you a teddy. 

Each member of the team was welcome but you were waiting for him. 

They'd all told you he was taking it hard, drinking more, fighting more, caring less and less about his safety. He felt like shit but you didn't blame him. 

You felt guilty for not realising sooner it wasn't Logan. Your fields could stop his claws, they had in training. The two of you were paired up a lot to show the newbies how to fight. You worked well together and it was only a matter of time and rolling about on the floor before he asked you out. 

You decided at the end of the first week that if he wanted kids you wouldn't make him stay. You couldn't. You'd push him away, if needs be. 

It was day twelve when he knocked at the door. You could move, had showered - careful with your stitches - and dressed yourself for the first time. 

“Y/N.” He spoke by the door. 

You looked up from the Hobbit, smiling wide. “Logan, hi.” 

“I'm so so sorry.” He eased his way in, looking uncomfortable in your room in a way he had never previously. 

“Logan, it wasn't you, love.” You closed the book, placing it on your nightstand. “It could've been anyone.” 

“But I hurt you.” 

“I'm okay.” Wasn't exactly the best argument but it was true.

He shuffled over to your bed and sat delicately at your side, his feet still touching the floor. “I couldn't face you. Couldn't see you bruised because of me.” 

The bruising had gone down. You were looking normal again. “Again, babe, I don't blame you.” 

“You should.” His eyes left yours and he looked at the floor. 

The need to comfort him was so strong but you held back. Remembering yourself. You couldn't get too lost. Not when you were lacking. “Do you want kids?” 

The questions surprised both of you. You didn't mean for it to tumble out of your mouth but it had and now it was sitting heavily amongst you. 

Logan looked back at you perplexed. His eyebrows met but he stared into your eyes, considering your question.

He'd almost killed you. He could've killed you. His hands harmed you and you were asking if he wanted kids. Yo- he loved you so much. He should stay away. You'd get hurt again he knew you would. 

But he loved you. Whenever he imagined a future - and that wasn't often - he saw you with him. And now he saw a little girl and boy. The boy looked like him and the girl looked like you but they acted like the other parent. He could see a soft mummy's boy being coddled far too much and a cute feral girl who was ready to take on the world. He could picture them. 

Picture you full with your child. His child. You were glowing. 

“I think we'd be great parents.” He hadn't realised his eyes were watering, quickly swatting the tears away. He'd almost destroyed that future, the one you were offering him. 

You bit your lip and nodded silently. “I think we should break up.” 

~~

Four months later he burst into your bedroom seething. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” He yelled. 

You jumped, snapping the Lord of the Rings shut. “Logan?”

He had left when you broke up with him. Becoming a renegade, a fighter, a mercenary. Whatever it took to forget you. 

It wasn't until Storm needed assistance - fighting off the brotherhood by the cul-de-sac Logan was passing through - when she told him. 

“You ended it because you can't have kids?!” His hands were on his hips and he was pacing back and forth. “I thought I…” He sighed shakily. “I thought I fucked up. I thought the idea of me wanting children with you after almost fucking killing you was terrifying.” 

“Lo, I can't have children.” You explain. “I will die and you will live and that's it. If you find someone that can give you kids then you won't be as lonely. You could have a family.”

He stopped pacing and stared at you. “That’s the most stupid argument I've ever fucking heard.” 

It was but it was all you had.

“I know but I didn't want you to feel trapped.” You sat up and he suppressed a gasp because you were wearing one of his shirts. After all this time you still wore his clothes, it did something to him. Inside his chest ached. “Down the line when you wanted a child and I couldn't give you one… I didn't want you to resent me.” 

“I would never.” He vowed. “I have spent these past months trying to forget that I fucking love you. I could never resent you.” 

Tears oozed from your eyes and you wiped them away. “I'm sorry.” 

He didn't want to break this easily. Didn't want to give in but you were crying. His girl was crying. Logan scooped you up in a hug and kissed your forehead. “Don't ever lie to me again. I don't care what it's about. We'll handle it together.” 

You nodded. “Okay. I promise.” 

\\

Logan sat back, resting his spine against the sofa. "It's okay." He decided. "We already have Laura, we don't need any more."

You smiled. "So you forgive her?"

"'course I do." He heaved a sigh. "Just gotta actually apologise to her."

"I love you." You leant over and kissed his brow. "You look so sexy when you're grovelling."

He rolled his eyes and playfully shoved you off.

Part 11

@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @twinkywink @ravenmedows @electricreader @racetrackheart @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree

[gezelligs-world]

I Hope I Never Lose You

(Bada lee x Fem!Reader)

"When will you arrive?!" Bada said whining through the phone. I laugh while opening the car door.

"Calm your ass down sweet face, I'm on my way." I said and hung up the phone. I turned my engine on and went ahead.

"The traffic is worse than yesterday..." I mumbled while staring ahead. I was about to forward my car when I heard a couple of beeps behind me.

"Miss! Turn your car!" Before I even do what the stranger said, I see a car going towards me at full speed. I feel the glass from the windows fly at me and saw several people running to the scene before I black out.

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"Why is she not here yet?" Bada muttered but enough for her make up artist to her it.

"Your girlfriend is not here yet?" Bada nodded with a little pout on her lips.

"She said she will be here an hour ago, it's just a 30 minute drive from our apartment." The make-up artist nodded in understanding.

"Maybe there's traffic, hm?" She said trying to enlighten the mood of the dancer.

"I hope so..."

"Dancers! Please gather at the set! Filming will start soon!" Bada sighed and stood up. She tried to be understanding and maybe you will not make it because of personal problems. She stretches her arms one more time before going outside the make-up room.

The make-up is starting to pack some of the make-up that are needed for retouching when she hears Bada's phone ringing. She was about to go outside the room to inform Bada but she heard the song playing meaning the filming is already starting. The make-up artist had no choice but to answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, yes, is this Bada?" A male voice is heard. The make-up artist looked at the caller ID and saw that it's an unknown number.

"This is not her, she's busy. May I know your intentions?"

"There happened to be a car crash here and the victim's first emergency contact is Ms. Bada. I just want to inform her about what happened to- I suppose her girlfriend. This is her in-charged doctor speaking." Speechless is an understatement at what the make-up artist is feeling. Should she tell Bada? But Bada may feel overwhelmed...

Before she could reply, the phone got snatched. She turned around and saw that it was one of the directors of the set.

"We will inform Ms. Bada right away." The director then hung up the phone.

"Don't tell this to Bada-sshi, got it?" The director said with a warning and commanding voice.

"But PD-nim-" The director glared at her and went out leaving the make-up artist with mixed thoughts.

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"Congratulations everyone! We're done!" The director said as the dangers clap their hands except for the main dancer, Bada.

"Why is Bada looked so down today?" Mina Young said while analyzing Bada.

"I heard that Y/n didn't get to visit her today." Funky said and Mina gasp dramatically.

"That must hurt so bad!" Mina said.

Bada heard the conversation between the two leaders but she just didn't care about any of it at all.

"She promised..." Bada whispered while going back to the make-up room. She opened her phone and saw a lot of missed calls and texts from an unknown number. She opened the messages and almost dropped her phone when she saw the content. Bada grabbed her bag and went running to the exit, not caring about the director calling her or even her still being in her costume.

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She arrived at the hospital and went to the reception desk panting.

"Can you tell me where Ms. Y/n is?" She said breathlessly. The nurse goes through several papers making Bada more impatient.

"Bed 208." The nurse said and Bada immediately went to the direction where it is. She saw multiple people injured in the head, knees, and arms. She saw police officers questioning one of the people which she's guessing was one of the people involved in the accident. Bada kept looking back and forth finding a specific face until her eyes landed on an unconscious figure and a tube in her mouth, and a stable heartbeat that are heard through the monitor.

"Y/n..." Bada slowly approached her significant other and kneel down beside her bed. She grabbed her lover's hand and cupped it on her face. Bada is known to have controlled emotions but her tears are already falling.

"Ms. Bada?" She heard someone talk behind her. She wiped her tears and turned around. She stood and bowed lightly when she saw that it was the doctor.

"Yes, that's me." She said trying not to let out a cracked voice.

"May I know your relationship with Ms. Y/n before I get to tell you her condition?"

"Fiancé." Bada answered.

"Ms. Y/n suffered a lot of scratches on her left arm that is broken due to the force of the hit and since the direction of the car is moving towards the driver seat, she is in worse condition than the other victims involved." Bada bit her lip while looking and looked up again to look at Y/n.

"When will she wake up?" Bada nervously asked.

"My prediction is tomorrow." The doctor answered.

"A nurse will come and monitor her 2 times a day to see how her condition improved." Bada nodded.

"Can you move Y/n into a private room? The most expensive one." The doctor nodded.

"A nurse will send you a form to sign and Ms. Y/n will be transferred immediately." Bada thanked the doctor. She sat down on her lover's bed while caressing her hand.

"I hope I never lose you." Bada said and kissed Y/n's knuckles. A nurse approaches Bada to sign a form for Y/n's transfer, Bada signed it and Y/n is transferred to a private room.

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"Unnie, I heard what happened to Y/n unnie..." CheChe sadly said at Bada.

"Don't worry, your Y/n unnie is strong." Bada ruffled CheChe's hair.

"Can we visit her soon?" Tatter asked.

"Of course but only limited people may come and visit." Bada's members nodded in understanding.

In the middle of the break during the shooting of the street woman fighter, the hospital informed Bada that Y/n is finally awake. Even though she wants to go to the hospital and keep Y/n in her arms, she has to stay and remain professional, and also because she's the leader of Bebe. But once the shooting is finally finished, she rushes towards the parking lot and drives to the hospital. She ran at Y/n's room and opened it, she saw her significant other staring at her while sitting up.

"Bada..." Y/n smiled, Bada eyes began to be teary when she finally realized that death did not take Y/n from her. Bada rushed towards her and hugged Y/n, careful to not touch her scratches. Y/n let Bada rest her head on her chest as she caressed Bada's hair.

"I almost lost you..." Bada said while sniffing.

"You did not. I'm alive, see?" Y/n grabbed Bada's hands and cupped it on her face.

"You cannot die yet, I haven't got to marry you yet." Bada said and Y/n nodded in agreement.

"That's right..." They hugged each again and Bada whispered something at Y/n's ear.

"I almost lost you, I'm not gonna let that happen again." Bada kissed Y/n under her eyes and caressed her head, rocking their figures side by side.

[jinkoh]

happiest with you

juyeon x gn!reader

wc: 0.5k

a/n: this is a little birthday gift for my dearest kate💖💖 happy birthday, @blizzardfluffykpop!! i hope you have the loveliest day with sweet gifts and sweet people around you! also it's just a short drabble this year, but i hope you'll still enjoy it~ ((and yes juyeon totally paid me so that it wouldn't be a q or yh fic--i'm sorry i'm very bribeable but at least i didn't clown you by making it nyu right))

masterlist

“What are you doing on your birthday?” Juyeon tried to sound casual, but what he really wanted to ask was do you want to spend it with me? There was no way he could just ask that straight out though. Because what if you’d find it strange? And what if you wanted to spend your special day with someone else anyway?

Juyeon’s overthinking went completely past you, your attention taken by your popsicle that was melting in the sweltering summer heat. “Not sure, nothing planned yet.”

“I see.” Still that casual tone, but now there was the smallest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You didn’t have plans yet, so maybe he really stood a chance. He took a deep breath. “Anything you want to do?” 

“Hm,” you licked up some of the ice cream that had started running down your fingers, “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it to be honest. It’s not that special anyway.”

That put a frown on Juyeon’s face. How could you think your birthday wasn’t anything special? He’d been thinking about it for weeks already, trying to come up with the perfect gift (it turned out when you’re a chronic overthinker it’s pretty difficult to find something that’s personal but not so personal it would have you suspecting anything about his big fat crush on you). He’d also been wondering how to ask you if you wanted to spend the day together and if it would be overbearing of him to ask at all. He’d been thinking about activities you’d like, maybe a trip (perhaps to New York—seeing time’s square and all that), or a car show or maybe just a nice dinner. Most importantly, he’d been thinking about what to do to put a bright smile on your face. And yet, here you were, saying it wasn’t that special.

“But it is,” he argued and it finally made you look up from your popsicle and meet his gaze, “It is special.”

“Is it?” Him being so insistent on this made you smile. 

“It is. So you should do something that makes you feel happy on that day.” and spend it with me, he didn’t say even though he wanted to. But what mattered to him more was your happiness. If it meant you’d be with someone else on your birthday he could easily accept that, even if it would hurt.

“Happy, hm?” You hummed before finishing the last bits of your ice cream. “Can I spend it with you then?”

“Huh?” Juyeon stared at you with wide eyes, your words slowly registering. He’d worried about asking you for so long, but here you were just casually going for it. “Are you sure?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be? You were the one who told me to do something that makes me happy. And I’m happiest when I’m with you.”

Your smile looked so bright and sweet and Juyeon wished he could just kiss it right off your face. “I’m the happiest when I’m with you, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushed red.

“Perfect,” you grinned and leaned over, causing him to startle for a moment at the sudden proximity. But then you just grabbed the popsicle in his hand that had been left to melt for a few minutes now, and popped it into your own mouth. “I guess we have plans then.”

masterlist

[jiminsass-istant]

WHO MV ANALYSIS: BRILLIANT STORY TELLING, QUEER CODING AND MORE

I have a lot to say. And yes i positively feel like a clown that this post comes right after jimin said "go ahead, misinterpret everything hehe". This might be a long one, so settle in. Also, if you are looking for this as some kind of validation for any ship, I'm afraid it might not serve that purpose (BUT keep reading!). This is simply an analysis of MV elements and cinematography in its purest form appreciating the brilliant work done by Lumpens and his assistant directors.

Part 1: Start of the story of a man in search of love

Let's start from the very beginning. Many of you have already figured out that Jimin is telling a story here (I'm not wrong yet Jimin, dammit). How do we know this? Look at that mini TV. Yes, this mini TV is actually our bookmark, our storyteller. In it's first appearance, it says "play" with a man walking at a normal pace, imitating jimin here, who is also walking.

Elements to notice here:-

The 'ONLY' signs on the road which mean these roads have only limited accessibility when it comes to directions. In my opinion, it symbolizes the rules that this world imposes on us. And here comes jimin whining/asking why he hasn't met 'her' even if he sees her at night? (imagines her) and thinks about her.

2. Also notice how it says "BLISS" on the neon sign but the world he's in is basically pre-tornado winds - there are papers flying, cars on fire, safety barrier tapes, even the mini TV is on fire. The flyer for the song says "who is!! Tornado of love" and basically serves as a warning that the 'tornado of love' is approaching soon.

3. Reference to 'Closer' (than this?) on the billboard with a man on it. Looks like a reference to a movie or song of 1995 which I haven't been able to find out yet. [help me]

Part 2: Searching gets more desperate

Moving on, we see Jimin entering the part of street with an old, dilapidated building in the background (so much to notice here!!)

Elements to look out:

Firstly, look at the mini TV which still says 'play' but the man in the TV is now running instead of walking. Just like how Jimin's steps are faster now, he's on his search for 'her', but he's getting desperate.

Notice the engineers in the background? Yes they are engineers- they have plans, measuring devices etc. And they are working to "renovate" the building. Interesting choice of scene right before a tornado... let's found out why-

Notice that on the right side to the entrance of this building, there's "B-1" written on the walls, but one could also read it at "13 1" At first glance, that's what it seemed like to me. I think people renovating a building whose name looks like a "13" is symbolism for jimin trying to heal/renovate/repair his heart/emotions/past traumas. It's about him still being in that phase where he is healing/ trying to heal himself by trying to find 'her' OR maybe he's trying to find 'her' when he is not even completely healed himself.

See the TV on the shopping cart on fire because it will be referenced later. Put a pin on it.

Part-3 Theatrics

With a flash of retro cable TV like lights, the perspective changes - as in now you are watching inside the mini TV. I'm talking about this part, when he changes direction and goes to the girl. So many interesting things happen, I'm giddy thinking about writing it.

Elements to notice:

I can't help but think of the words 'auto calibration ' that flashes right before Jimin does that cunty choreo with the female dancer. 'auto calibration ' literally means 'standardization' or 'correction' . I don't think people realise how queer coded it is. 'coded' being the keyword here. It could also mean 'standardized' as in the way we view idols as these perfect people with perfect dating lives.

3. The car is on fire- so yeah whatever is happening cannot be good. Everything is still chaotic and doesn't make it easy

2. The mini TV now shows various images with a heart '<3' symbolizing that he is engaging in some kind of relationship, but this is literally the biggest 'drama' ever. Because look at this scene- it's pure cinema..

"So many people to see" - people watching them date/engage while making a whole show out of it. There's also an ambulance nearby because obviously an idol's dating life shown to the public can leave people hurt and offended. As Jimin and the girl dance, they are literally in front of a local theatre called the 'OASIS'. My interpretation is that a celeb's dating life is literally 'theatrics' for the public. They are reduced to nothing but characters for entertainment, and worst part is that the public isn't happy either. No wonder, making it extremely difficult for Jimin to find true love. Special mention where the girl has him in a chokehold, quite literally an uncomfortable position, entangled with each other- or at least that's how the public views them.

3) In the same scene we see that the mini TV has tumbled down along with the shopping cart which was on fire, hence setting the car on fire too lol. Brilliant attention to detail.

Part-4 - where Jimin gets more desperate to find true love (in the past!)

As soon as the dancers leave, we see the huge billboard fall down and if i go with all the clues we have been getting, especially the travel show...it is WILD.

Because people are focusing on the possible OST called "Keep going", but DO YOU NOT REALISE HOW HUGE IT IS THAT JK IS REFERENCED IN A ROMANTIC SONG? dropping from the sky with 'who' written on it??!! "Who" without the questions or exclamations. I'll let you go delulu mode on that one. Moving on-

You must have noticed that to show a change in phase/scene, they have used multicolored flashes and change to 90s TV perspective. The same happens now after the billboard drops but the important thing to notice is the "rewind" on the screen now. Which basically means jimin going through different people is a thing of the past.

3. The crow/raven seen multiple times in the MV. Either way, a crow or raven is not something we see at night. They come out only at times of 'unnatural exceptions' like storms, earthquakes etc because they are not nocturnal creatures. While Jimin was trying to find love, there was definitely something happening which wasn't natural for him or was out of his comfort zone/he was not himself.

4. Another instance of queer coding I noticed was both men and women walking past him, similar to Like Crazy MV. It had a different symbolism in LC because he was trying to stay in the dream. But here people walking past him clearly means possible romantic partners. And he keeps stopping, keeps trying his luck with different people, almost always failing. OR- it could mean there are people of both genders walking past him but he never goes for the men in the past.

Part-5 - The tornado of love finally arrives

Now it says 'Play' on the screen meaning we are now in the present again. The tornado has built up, Jimin looks more confident, more smug as the tornado gains momentum behind him.

A flash of light, fireworks erupt as he sings his heart out. Even after the tornado is completely gone, the sparks and short circuits and destruction continues, meaning the 'tornado of love' arrived and certainly did a number on him.

Finally, we see him on a much calmer path. All cars lined up. He owns his life now. The situation is under control, the cars with lights on, ready to go.

I truly appreciate the storytelling in WHO MV. Lumpens Sir delivering as always. And I would love to know which things were Jimin's ideas but he wouldn't share that with us would he?

Let me know what you think and discuss in the comments if you want to.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

vampdrew please :)

WIP Wednesday (11/13) | Vampire Andrew AU (Part 198)

"Well, we won't let you go under." Nicky says with a semi-convincing smile before going to get in the car. The others are already in their spots.

"Not without concrete shoes." Neil mutters under his breath. It's just the two of them now. Andrew flicks his cigarette towards the bushes.

"After you, drowning man," Andrew says, gesturing to the backseat. He thinks— no, he knows— he can handle sitting next to Neil tonight.

"I'm sitting between you?" Neil asks stupidly.

"Unless you'd rather be stuffed in the trunk." Andrew says, thoughtfully. "You know, I think you'd fit rather nicely. Want to try?"

"While it would probably be more comfortable, I get trunk-sick." Oh, he’s funny tonight.

"Then get in," Andrew tells him. "We haven't got all night. The place closes at two."

Neil looks a little like he wants to make a break for it.

"You know Neil, I already told these clowns about your secret stash and they took it pretty well all things considered. How do you think the upperclassmen will take it?" Andrew muses. "I think they'd probably demand to know what the money's for. At the very least, they'd be disturbed by the Kevin shrine. I know I was."

"It's not a shrine." Neil says, looking down at his feet.

"Is it not? There were dozens of photos of him in there. Should I go upstairs and get it to show the others?"

"If you break into my room again I’ll kill you." Neil hisses so low the others won’t hear. Oh, so funny. Andrew grins.

"Alright then. Let's go." Andrew once again waves a hand at the car but Neil refuses to budge. And now Andrew's about to lose his patience. "Neil, you're getting on my nerves."

"Well, you're kidnapping me so I think we're square."

"It's not kidnapping. You agreed to this."

"I was blackmailed into it."

"Potato, tomato." Andrew shrugs.

"That doesn't even make sense." Aaron says from the backseat, leaning to look at them. ‘Get him in the car already, Andrew.’

"$101,398." Andrew says, making Neil go still. "Lenses in the color ‘dark chocolate’. L'Oreal Ultimate Black #1. Twenty-eight photos of Kevin, nineteen including Riko because they were attached at the hip. All of this I could sort of understand. But what are the numbers, Neil?"

"What numbers?"

Andrew begins to recite the digits on Neil's coded page and all the blood drains out of Neil's face. Andrew only gets to the second line before he manages, "What the fuck?"

"Yes, that's what I'm wondering.” Andrew asks softly, just for Neil. “Is it a coded message? Was it written by you or for you? It didn't look like your handwriting, now did it? No, too feminine. So it was a woman, hm?” 

Neil's heart is stumbling over itself so Andrew has definitely hit a nerve. He pulls out a jackhammer and continues prodding, hoping to break him.

“But what was she writing? Instructions? A love letter? A poem about a strange man covering up his natural looks? We'll never know unless you tell us, Neil. Let us in on your secrets and maybe I'll let you stay here and hide in your dorm. What's it going to be?"

Neil just stands there, pale in the face with a rabbit’s heart.

“Guys, come on. Let’s gooooo,” Nicky whines.

"Tick-tock, Neil.” Andrew says, moving a finger to and fro like a metronome. "You're going to make us late. I hate being late."

“You know what? I don’t care. And my binder is none of your business so fucking bite me." Neil spits out. And everyone in the car turns to look at them with horror. Neil's got his back to them, but Andrew grins.

"Careful what you wish for, Neil." He says gravely. "Now get in the goddamn car before I put you in it."

Neil doesn't say anything more. Defeated, he climbs into the backseat. Andrew gets in beside him and finally, they start for Columbia. Andre keeps his face tucked into his shoulder and stares out the window, trying to ignore the warmth of Neil's thigh pressed against his own. Stupid weirdo human with his stupid warm blood and his stupid locked-up mind.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Once again I have so many thoughts, but very limited time to express them, so will attempt to make my swirling brain come up with something coherent.

I am finding it interesting to see all the different reactions to Dangerous Romance this week. To be clear, I am the kind of person who rarely has expectations going into a show, and am much more a "meh, let's see where the journey takes us" kind of watcher. I'm also very much still in my "yay, queer content" phase, and if it means looking at Perth for an hour a week, I'm probably going to be happy. (Not that I'm never disappointed, do I think Big Dragon needed about 200% more BDSM? Yes, yes I do.)

I do totally respect when a show isn't working for some people. That said, I am completely fine with the pacing, because what I am seeing, is a fuck-ton of setup.

Sure, the bullying has stopped, but now we know Kang is capable of being very dark and cruel, especially when there is something making him feel powerless in his life. He also has a weakness around Sailom, and is still trying to exert control, just in a new way.

Yeah, Sailom only had to escort once before getting back to tutoring, but Name literally followed him to his place of work, AND confirmed for himself that Sailom will accept a job like that with very little pushback - meaning if he gets even more desperate, it won't take much to push him further. Name is not going to do nothing with that information.

And I get if people feel like Saifah and Sailom should be freaking out more about their situation, but I kind of feel like that's purposeful? Saifah is an ass. He acts like everything is no big deal, because his little brother is going to be the one busting his butt to save them. He plays the part of the benevolent loving older brother, he buys treats for Sailom, but if it's a choice between Sailom getting beaten or himself, he's fine if it's Sailom.

And I may really be getting in the clown car here, but...who gets an injury that puts them in a desperate situation right at the worst time, when Sailom loses his tutoring job? Who would be in the best position to tell Name where Sailom works, and that Sailom will be easy to convince to accept an offer?

And right now Sailom is still in his "I adore my older brother" phase. It's been just the two of them for so long. He doesn't act stressed in front of Saifah, because when he told Saifah he lost his tutoring job, Saifah's response was, "yeah, rich people suck, huh". He's learned to hide his feelings, because his brother is an ass who will not take them seriously, and his friends will immediately want to try to help him - and he doesn't want help he doesn't feel he's earned. So yeah, we're not seeing his mask slip much yet - but I think we will. He will hit his breaking point.

Ok, and this is where I need to talk about the bubble. Because, yeah, Kang was snapped out of his when he saw Sailom getting beaten. But now - he's just in another one. One where he has accepted his money can't buy Sailom, but where he believes his money can protect Sailom. And right now? Sailom is joining him in this bubble. Why wouldn't he? It feels warm and safe and there's a cute boy inside. They can play games and work by candlelight. (I mean, c'mon, Kang literally put the boy in a VR helmet).

But this bubble, like the first one, is going to burst. And it's going to be rough for both of them.

[lostfirefly]

Desire, I'm hungry, and I hope you feed me. How do you want me, how do you want me?

This idea came from the Anon's request. This is what I saw in my head after Chapter 10 of my original Egyptian series. From several fics, we know that Buggy and Catherine had sex at the same day she stayed with him. And since this is the first time for my beloved lovebirds, I'm a little worried, to be honest. Sunday is the perfect day for smut! English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here.

Description: Catherine decides to stay in Cairo. Buggy brings her home.

Warnings: SFW turns into NSFW. MDNI. We'll get into Buggy's head. His thoughts will be written in italics. I'm bad at writing smut.

Words: 4662

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august

The title is taken from “Desire” by Meg Mayers.

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“This Buggy is such an asshole.” Catherine’s sister grumbled as she took a sip from her cup of coffee. 

“Yeah, asshole…” Catherine answered quietly, fiddling with the handle on her bag. 

“No, thanks to him for saving my life, but a grown man paints himself as a clown. He's rude, sloppy and stinky.” Jules looked at the board above the gate. “Finally, we’ll get home soon. We should go to the bar today and find you a hot guy, right?” Jules shifted her gaze to Catherine. “God! Who to tell that one man is turning into sand, the other is falling apart, they won’t believe it.”

“Jules, don't tell anyone about their abilities. What if it is dangerous for them.” Catherine glanced at her sister with an angry look. “I don’t know.. They will be hunted, or something worse.”

“Who are you more worried about, sister? For a man who can hide in the Sahara in one second or for that clown? I thought you hated each other so much.” 

“Yes. We hate..” Catherine looked at the gate door once again, stood up from her chair and patted her jeans. “Damn! I think I forgot my wallet at the coffee shop.” 

“What? I thought you put it in your bag.” 

“Seems I didn’t put it in. I’ll go check.” Catherine grabbed her bag and ran out of the boarding area. “Bye, Jules!! I’ll call you!” 

“What the fuck, Catherine?! Hey!! Where are you going? The coffee shop is on the other side!” 

Catherine couldn't hear her sister anymore because she squealed, running from the departure area into the arrival hall. From the hall, she quickly ran towards the parking lot and ran outside, looking around. 

“Shit! Did he leave? Oh! Excuse me!” She stopped one of the passer-by. “Have you seen a tall.. oh, not very tall.. but for my height he’s tall. Never mind! Tall and handsome man here by any chance? He has blue hair and a big red nose.”

The passerby shrugged and walked on. Catherine splayed her hands. “Of course he left.”  She scanned the parking lot. “Taxi!!” She ran to the first car. “I need to go.. Shit! I don’t know the address. But I remember approximately where to go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? No! I’m not going without address!” Said a taxi driver. 

“Please, sir. I’ll pay d~.” She raised her head. “His car! He is still here! Yes! Sorry, I’m not going!” She grabbed her bag and ran to Buggy's car. 

“Idiot!!” The driver shouted. 

Catherine walked quickly between the cars, when she saw Buggy was coming out of a small store at that moment, and yelled at the seller. “I didn't have to pay! Fuck you!” 

“Hey! Clown!” Catherine abruptly slowed her step and tried to sound angry. 

“Cotton candy? Fuck! I mean, Catherine? What are you doing here?” Buggy darted his eyes at her and couldn't find the words. “You're supposed to be on an airplane.”

“You know, I decided that economy class isn't my level.” Catherine took a couple steps closer to him. “You promised me a private jet. I thought you were a man of your word, Buggy the Clown. Are you just a chatterbox?” She took two more steps and tried to hold back a smile. 

“Act cool! With what money was I supposed to arrange a private jet for you? We haven't found the treasure.” He leaned back against the car and crossed his arms. “So what are you doing here? Fuck! I’m so happy to see you! I thought you were supposed to be told how to behave in an emergency landing now.”

“Na-ah. I'm not leaving you until I see the promised jet.” Catherine quickened her pace, stepped even closer, dropped her bag on the ground, smiled widely and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know, we've got a little problem here. First, I must teach you to keep your word. Second, I think, I fell in love with some blue-haired asshole who wanted to leave me in the desert.”

“But I didn't le~.”  Buggy carefully put one hand on her back. “Huh? What did you just say?” He was confused about her words. 

“For the slow-witted, I lo-ve you.” Catherine stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, but Buggy gently stopped her.

“Are you making fun of me?” He scowled. “Of course she’s. She thinks you're stupid and you're, to be honest.”

“What? No! I’ll never do that!” Catherine started stroking his head. 

Buggy removed his hand and stared at her. “But you said that.. that word. The L-word. Try not to look surprised and don't get your hopes up, idiot. She cannot love you.” 

Catherine ran her fingertips over his cheek. “I see. I'll have to break through the emotional wall. But I love challenges. Again. I'm not making fun of you, I've never done it and never will. I'll try to earn your trust. Will you try to believe me?”

Buggy nodded and Catherine immediately punched him in the shoulder. 

“I lo~ Ouch! Little shit! You were cute a second ago. Why are you beating me?”

“Because you took me to the airport, you idiot!!!” Catherine tiptoed and smacked him in his lips. "Why didn't you tell me to stay? I’m not stupid, Buggy. I know you love me.” She ran her hand through his ponytail and looked into his eyes. “Don't tell me you don't see that I love you too.”

“Say something!” Buggy gently placed his hands on her waist. “But why? You don't really know me. Not this!”

Catherine shrugged. “How come I don’t know? You and I were sitting by the fire. Remember? I know that you have your chop chop thing, that you saved my life several times, you saved my sister. I don't want you and I to make the biggest mistake of our lives. And if you don't mind, I'll stay with you and get to know you better.” She touched her lips lightly to his once more and in the same second he kissed her back. His kiss was long, soft and tender.

“So you don't mind if I stay?” She asked quietly, pressing her forehead to his.

“Fuck! Her hands are so warm! I wish she hugged me like this every day! Her eyes are so beautiful! I wish she looked at me like that every day!” Buggy stroked her cheek, smiled and ran his thumb over her lips. “You're covered in my lipstick. 

“Oh fuck!” Catherine quickly pulled out some tissues and wiped her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “My silly clown.” 

“I'm listening, my Cathie-pie.” Buggy placed his chin on the top of her head. 

“Take me home, please.”

All the way home in the car there was an atmosphere of a slight sense of awkwardness. Catherine smiled and stroked his hair, and Buggy periodically put his hand on her shoulder, on her hand or on her thigh, blushing, as if testing the boundaries of what was permissible. He brought her home, closed the front door and tossed her bag on the floor. 

“Well... Welcome back, I guess.” Buggy scratched his head. “The bathroom is there, the kitchen is there. The bedroom's that way. Bravo! Why are you saying this? She was in your house for two days.”

“I remember where the bedroom is.” Catherine stepped closer to him, seeing how worried he was, stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around him. “Hey, you look so nervous, aren't you happy? You didn't want me to stay?”

“I don't know. I mean, I’m happy. I wanted to. This is just my first time in such a situation.” Buggy blushed at the stupidity of his reaction. “I barely understand what is happening.” 

“Well, you know, it’s not every day that I run out of the airport either. This will be our funny story, right? I don't want you to be alone. You don't have to be alone anymore, Buggy. I want to be here with you. I love you.” Catherine lightly touched her lips to his and waited for some sort of response from him. 

“Do something, idiot!”

“Are you okay? Why are you standing still? You can hug me and kiss me like at the airport, I won't bite you." Catherine didn't know whether to laugh or not, looking at his slightly confused face expression.  “Okay. Let's try again. I love you, Buggy the Clown.” She kissed him on the lips, and she felt how he returned the kiss, which went from soft to greedy in a split second. Buggy growled through the kiss, hugged her tighter and pressed her against the wall with all his strength. 

“Ouch!” Catherine whispered. “My back! You don't have to kill me, Buggy.”

“Sorry.” He put his hands on her hips and lifted her easily off the floor. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!!”

Catherine immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him. Buggy quickly moved toward the bedroom. 

“Am I walking right?” He asked through the kiss. 

“Uh-huh.” Muttering, Catherine practically kept her lips on his. “And don't you dare swerve off the route, you bastard.”

Buggy carried her into the bedroom, placed her on the bed and stopped for a moment. Thoughts were spinning in his head. “What’s going on? Should I continue? If I continue, should I be gentle or not?”

“Hey, what's up?” Catherine asked quietly, stroking his shoulders and kissing him lightly. “Everything is fine. Don't think about anything.” She started to take off his t-shirt. “I want this.” Kiss. “You want this.” Kiss. “I love you.” After these words, Catherine saw a light up in his eyes. 

“I don’t care, even if she’s mocking me, I want to feel her next to me at least for a second.” Buggy quickly took off her t-shirt and ran his lips along her neck. “Fuck, Cathie-pie. Look what you did to me.”

“Go to hell, I haven't done anything to you yet.” She quickly took off her jeans and was left in the underwear. “Like the view?” Catherine put her hands on her waist and raised her head theatrically.

“More than I like. Holy mother of God! She's in her underwear! So sexy!! I love her!! You will be the death of me, Catherine Mitchell.” Buggy carefully placed his hands under her legs and abruptly laid her on the bed, lying on top of her. He began to kiss her hungrily on the lips while Catherine began to unbutton his jeans.

Buggy reluctantly pulled away from her lips and quickly removed his pants. “Hell, yeah! Don't go, please! Just wait for me a little!”

Catherine rose up on her elbows and scanned him from top to bottom. “You have blue chest hair. I love it! So hot!” She raised her torso, ran her fingers over his chest and looked at his worried face. “What's wrong? You don't want it?”

“I just.. I don't want to hurt you.” Buggy said quietly, trying to hide his quickening breathing. “Hold on! But it’s difficult, she’s moving her warm hands over me. Why is she doing this? Am I not disgusting to her?”

“I didn't realize you were so shy, Buggy. It's okay. I'm sure you won't hurt me. Relax.” She was about to remove her bra. 

“Oh, no, no! May I?” He gently ran his fingers over her shoulder and began to remove the strap. “Shit! I’m doing it!! I'm taking her bra off!!”

“You're such a fool. You're allowed to do anything.” Catherine kissed him gently on the lips and ran her hand over his stomach. 

“Aye-aye, Cathie-pie, it's dangerous to say things like these in this room. Control yourself, idiot! She's special!” Buggy removed the second strap and kissed her shoulder, leaving a red lipstick mark on her skin. “Holy shit! Her skin is so soft!”

“Can you keep your mouth shut and take off my underwear?” Catherine whispered in his ear, stroking his back. “Or I need to teach you this too?”

“Let me savor the moment, woman! Fuck, I love you.” He ran his lips along her neck. "Fuck! You're so beautiful and tasty, cotton candy. And you're mine.”

“Are you always talkative, fucking clown?” Catherine gently kissed his neck. “For God's sake, Buggy, take off my bra and panties already." 

“Do it!” Buggy growled and smashed his lips into her, pulling off her bra. “Wow!” He chuckled idiotically. “Better than I imagined.” 

“Pervert! We were on the verge of death, and you imagined me naked?” Catherine bit his bottom lip.

Buggy kissed her and ran his hands over her back, pulling her closer. “First, don't be dramatic, I would have saved you anyway! Probably.” Kiss. “Second, sorry, you were so smart and beautiful, I couldn't resist imagining you naked. I’ll kill anyone who tries to hurt or look at you.”

Catherine lay back on the bed and Buggy immediately removed her panties, slowly running his lips down her legs, hearing her breathing get heavier. He sat down on his knees and pulled off his panties. 

“Oh my god, you're all blue!!!” Catherine's eyes widened and she saw him blush. “Oh, no! I love it! God, this is so sexy!” She spread her legs slightly. “Now stop torturing me and come to me, my hot clown. I want to feel your little Buggy, which is not little at all, to be honest, inside me!” 

“You're kidding me, right? Oh, Buggy. She will break your heart too.”

“Do you really want to discuss this in this position when we're naked?” Catherine took his hand, pulled him closer and gently pressed her lips to his. “No! I will never do that!” Kiss. “Who put this into your head?” Kiss. “I will rip out the hands of those who made you think that way.” Kiss. “Since today, I won't let anyone hurt you.” Catherine ran her hand over his hair. “Don’t you understand yet? You're mine, Buggy the Clown. And I care and protect what is mine.”

“Protect? Me?” Buggy smirked, pressed his chest against Catherine's breasts and kissed her. “I’m kissing her when she's naked! Yay! Hm, what a strange feeling when I kiss her! It's like I feel warm inside!”

“Oh wait, wait, wait!” Catherine patted his shoulder. 

“And here we go.. Sorry, Buggy, I was kidding, bye-bye. Sit here without pants and cry like a big naked baby. What did you expect? Look at her and look at you.. What? Is something wrong? Should I stop?”

“No, no! There's one thing I want to do.” Catherine took the rubber band off his hair and unraveled it. “Yeah! So much better! I've dreamed of doing this for a long time.” 

“Something new! Are you finished?” Buggy stared at her in incomprehension. “Can I keep going?” 

“Oh, yes, yes! Sorry!” Catherine kissed Buggy on the lips, hugged him with her legs and arms, and felt how inch by inch he slowly entered her. “Shit!”

“W-What happened?” Buggy looked at her with frightened eyes. “Is there something wrong? Your little Buggy isn't little, asshole! Be gentle for god's sake!” 

“No, no. Everything is fine.” She kissed him on his lips again. “I'm happy you're finally in... well... you know… in me. So good to feel you.” Catherine reddened. 

“But if something is wrong, tell me. Even if it's our only time, I want it to be special.” Buggy glanced at her with frightened eyes. 

“God, Buggy, we're not 15 years old.” Catherine looked at his worried face. “Okay, I promise. I'll tell you.” She kissed him and pressed herself closer to him. 

Buggy returned the kiss. Catherine felt the warmth of his hot, moist kisses as his lips traveled from the corner of her mouth to her neck. She parted her lips slightly and moaned softly, wanting to press herself against his body even more when she felt him begin to move his hips slowly, while his lips explored every inch of her neck. Catherine gently moved one hand to the back of his head.

“Fuck! She's touching my hair. I like that. Her neck.. She’s kinda like what I’m doing. I should remember that. Who am I kidding? She will definitely run away from me. Idiot. How could you fall in love with her? You didn't think about the consequences, as usual. Fuck it! This will come later. At least remember this moment forever.”

“You okay?” Buggy asked, practically without looking up from Catherine's neck. 

“Totally. Don't stop, I want you so bad.” She answered quietly, digging her nails into his hair.

Buggy tried to control himself, moving inside her with a moderate, tender pace, but felt that Catherine received him greedily, and eagerly lifted her pelvis to meet his every thrust.

“Cotton candy.. Do you... Do you really… love me? You said that.” Buggy asked, kissing her lips and moving his hips gently. “Please, tell me this’s not a fucking joke.”

Catherine arched to meet him, keeping her hands twisting in his hair. “Of course, I lo~, oh, fuck, ~ve you.” She quickly got her tongue in his mouth. Their passionate kiss deepened as their tongues intertwined, the two lovers devouring each other hungrily, yet never fully satisfied.

“Shit. I love the feeling of her hands tangled in my hair, her lips on my lips, her tongue on my tongue. Her smile made my heart beat faster. Her every kind word seemed to pierce my lonely heart. What's happening? Why is she here? Is this another mockery of life? Or just a dream? If this was a dream, then I don’t want to wake up ever again, just to feel the warmth of her hands every day, to hear pleasant words from her lips, to see her smile when she strokes my hair. God, I loved when she was doing that in the morning. But.. Did she notice what she was doing? Did she do this on purpose to give me false hope? Of course, she did.” 

It became more difficult for him to control himself. Buggy's hips thrust into Catherine, pressing his cock firmly and harder against her, eliciting an involuntary moan from her lips. He didn't even notice how he moved his lips to her nipples, starting sucking them. “Shit, Cathie-pie, I wanna taste every inch of your body. I’m gonna die! Control yourself, dude!” 

“Don't eat me alive, clown. Oh, fuck, so good. You will have plenty of time to explore my body.” Catherine bit her bottom lip, feeling his cock pressing into where she needed it most. “Come back to me, please.” She gently grabbed his chin and pulled him closer to her lips. She started kissing him hungrily, hugging him tightly and moaning through the kiss with his every thrust.

“Damn, Catherine Mitchell, making love to you feels so good, but I'm sure fucking you will be so awesome.” Buggy said in a low, husky voice. “Why did you say that, idiot?”

“You can…” Catherine could barely speak, 

“Fuck! What did you say, little shit? Say it.”

“You can fuck me.” 

“Holy moly! Again!” 

“You can fuck me, Buggy... Only you can fuck me.” Catherine pressed her lips to his, clutching his back with her fingers and moaned, hearing as Buggy let out a little grunt and fucked between her legs, two rough thrusts.

“Please, Buggy..” Catherine gazed at his eyes and kissed him eagerly.

“Please what, cotton candy?” Buggy asked in a low, husky voice.

“Please.. a little more. Harder, deeper, rougher.” Catherine pleaded to him.

“Music to my ears.”

Buggy’s movements quickly become more and more aggressive, and Catherine tried to hold her moans. With each of Buggy's thrusts, she let out a series of soft, muffled cries, burying her face against his neck. Buggy feels her nails gripping into his shoulders impatiently, signaling him to proceed. He responds with several forceful thrusts, pushing himself inside her.

“Fuck, Buggy.” Catherine tried to hold herself from screaming. “More, please. I’m begging you.”

“Fuck! I want to..” Buggy started fucking her harder, faster, he put his hand on her thigh and grabbed it. 

Catherine's toes curled in ecstasy as Buggy's hips thrust into her, hitting the perfect spot. Buggy started slamming into her, and she couldn't help herself, and his name fell from her lips. Loudly. 

“Oh, fuck! She did it! Bye-bye, control!” As he thrust deeper inside her, a primal, animalistic intensity consumed his features. They both had never been more turned on in their life. 

With gritted teeth, Catherine demanded, "Harder," her voice strained as she felt herself nearing the edge. "Faster," she urged.

Buggy groaned with approval as he squeezed her tight and slammed into her with renewed vigor. Catherine responded by squeezing his hips harder with her legs. Their locked gazes felt like a vice clamped around her heart, squeezing it tight. His primal thrusts and desperate kisses betray a raw, unrestrained passion. The rhythm of his tongue matches the relentless motion of his hips. Catherine arched her back, pulling Buggy deeper inside her. He didn't notice how he moved one hand to stimulate her clit, and a wave of intense pleasure washed over Catherine, making her feel like she might come undone.

“Fucking blue-haired pervert!” Catherine cried out, breathless and trembling, as Buggy’s movements grew more frantic and intense. “Don't stop! I’m so close.” She begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

The coiling pleasure builds in intensity as Buggy’s fingers caress the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs.

“I’m so close, cotton candy. But it's hard to stop fucking you. I just can't get enough of you. Fuck me!” Buggy made a few stronger thrusts, grabbed her hand and felt them come together. Catherine whimpered and hugged him even tightly. She quickly kissed him to swallow his moan.

Buggy fell on her with his body, burying his face in the crock of her neck, breathing heavily. His body was hot and sweaty over hers. Catherine stroked his wet hair, holding his hand, and was silent for a long time. 

“Why is she silent? Did I do something wrong? She didn’t like it? How could she not like it? I’m the god of sex. But why is she silent? Maybe I should say something? What do people say in such cases? Damn, she’ll leave me, right? You did or said something wrong, and she will leave you. Maybe you overdid it? Although judging by her moans, no. Or maybe she didn’t want to upset you? You definitely said something, idiot. But she doesn't seem to go away. Usually the girls ran away quickly. Bye, Buggy. Everything was amazing, bye. But she lies here. Why isn't she leaving?” 

“Are you okay? You're breathing so hard.” She asked softly. 

“Yes, she's talking to me!” He smiled, nodded silently and felt Catherine kiss his head. “She kissed me. Hm, unusual. Why did she do that?” 

“You know, in movies or stupid novels people usually say something after sex, but I have almost no strength to speak, to be honest.” She laughed and started clapping in her hands. “Please accept applause from the audience! Bravo to the performer!”  

“Fuck me!! I’m still god!! Focus, Buggy, be patient! Little shit!” He raised his head, kissed her on her lips and looked into her eyes. “You okay? Did I hurt you?” 

“What? No!” Catherine kissed his nose. “Don’t worry. I didn’t even think that you were so caring during... well, you know. Rough and caring. You're full of surprises, Buggy the Clown.” She ran her fingertips over his cheek. “All your makeup is smeared. I wonder what my face looks like now.” 

“Like hell, but I like it.” Buggy lay down next to her, she quickly curled up next to him and took his hand. He started giggling.

“What's so funny, clown?”

“You're naked with me. And you don't go anywhere. Do you know how long I've dreamed of seeing you naked?”

“Dear god! You're like a baby who finally got his candybar.” Catherine glanced at him. “You're an idiot?”

“No, I'm a dreamer.”

“You're my lovely fool.” Catherine took a small strand of his hair. “So long and beautiful. Can you imagine? I could now eat nuts and listen to my sister's stories about her boyfriend at an altitude of several tens of thousands of meters, but I’m lying here with you.” She started stroking his hand. “I never thought that in my life I would do an act from a snotty movie. But I’m glad I stayed.”

“I can't say that I'm unhappy with this turn of events. Yes! Yes! Yes!!” Buggy hugged her tightly. 

“Everything would be much easier if you told me about your feelings in the morning. Then I wouldn’t have to run all over the airport and parking lot.” Catherine ran her fingertips over his body. “I saw your eyes and how you looked at me during breakfast. But you just sadly poked your fork at the pancakes.” 

Buggy kissed her head. “What should I have told you? You know perfectly what you had to say, idiot.”

“Usually, when people want a person to stay, they say something like “please, don’t leave me, Catherine, I love you.”

“Don't leave me, Cathie-pie.” He cleared his throat. “I.. I.. L.. L… You know, it's a very hard word.” 

“Do you wanna try to say it?” Catherine watched him nod. “I will help you, okay? Repeat after me. I..”

“I.”

“Lo…”

“Lo.”

“Ve…”

“Ve.”

“You.”

“You.”

“Yay! You did it!” Catherine clapped her hands. “I’m so proud of you! I love you too, my Buggy Bear.”

“She is proud of me??? Geeez! What'd you call me? What is this?”

“This is your nickname from today and forever.” Catherine pecked him on his nose.

“No, no!” Buggy shook his head. “I can't, this's a terrible, terrible nickname! Why did she call me that? Does this mean something special? Choose something different because this one is not good for a bad and angry man. Don't choose, this's the best nickname ever!”

“Liar. I think, you just want to appear angry, but you're actually a sweet little bear on the inside. You just need some care. And I will try to give it to you.” Catherine happily kicked her legs. “You know, we’ll have so much to discuss!”

“Like what? Is there something we should discuss? Why even discuss anything? Crap! Am I in a relationship? I have no idea what people do in relationships!”

“Like… Which side of the bed will I sleep on, where will my closet shelves be, what can I touch, what can’t I touch in your home. What time do you wake up? Do you have a daily routine? Should I buy my own mug or can I take one of yours?” Catherine ran her fingers over his blue chest hair. “Oh! Do you like going for a walk? Because I like it. Maybe we can go for a walk today? If you want, of course.” 

“I'm ready to walk with you to the ends of the earth.” Buggy exhaled. “Fine! Let's go for your stupid walk.” 

“I want chocolate cake!! Take me out to eat chocolate cake, please!!” Catherine suddenly closed her eyes and squealed happily. “Oh, my god!! Tomorrow we will have our first breakfast together!! Oh, I'll make us something delicious. Or maybe you want something? What do you like to eat for breakfast? I will cook.” She looked at him and pecked him on his lips several times. “I love love, love you, my Buggy Bear. And grumble as much as you want, but I will say it every day.”

“I l-love you too, my cotton candy.” Buggy kissed her hand. “As for breakfast. Can I choose anything?”

“Yeah! Does my clown have a special favorite dish?” Catherine ran her fingertips over his stubble.

“I know what I want. Can you make pancakes? Because I wanna hear your song.” 

[wood-white-writer]

“DMTMYHB” [Incorrect Quotes]

A/N: Happy (late) NEW YEARS! So, I know I've been AWOL for a while, but rest assured, the next chapter of “Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” is still in development, and work has as per fuckin' usual demanded a lot of my time. So, in absence of a new chapter, I decided to fuck around some with the Incorrect Quotes generator. Ended up with some good stuff, especially surrounding Buggy, Reader/Cross Hair, and Shanks' younger selves.

Keep in mind, not everything’s canon/non-canon, it’s just for funzies.

Enjoy!

———

[Reader], to Buggy: “My life is in the hands of an idiot!”

Buggy, motioning to himself and Shanks: “No no no no no, TWO idiots!”

———

Arlong, negotiating with [Reader] while holding Buggy’s head above water: “We have the clown. Give us ten thousand berries and he will be returned to you unharmed.”

Buggy: “Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand berries?”

[Reader]:

Buggy: “MAKE IT ONE MILLION—“

[Reader]: “BUGGY STOP!”

———

[Reader]: “Buggy, keep an eye on Shanks today. He’s going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.”

Buggy: “Sure, I’d love to see Shanks get punched.”

[Reader]: “Try again.”

Buggy, sighing: “I will stop Shanks from getting punched.”

———

Buggy: “Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.”

Shanks: “You were flirting with [Reader].”

Buggy: “So what? She’s my partner.”

Shanks: “You asked them if she was single.”

Buggy:

Shanks: “And then you cried when she said she wasn’t.”

———

[Reader]: “Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million berries?”

Buggy: “You stab me, and then when my leg pops back, we buy a big-ass ship!"

Shanks: “You can stab me too, then we'll have 20 million.”

Buggy: “Good thinking.”

Gol D. Rogers, listening from the sidelines: *increasing concern for his apprentices*

———

[Reader]: “Arlong, my old arch enemy.”

Buggy: “... I thought I was your arch enemy?”

[Reader]: “I have a life outside of you, Buggy.”

Buggy: 😢😢

———

Luffy: “Can you keep a secret?”

[Reader]: “Do you know anything about my life?”

Luffy: “No I do not. Good point.”

———

[Reader]: “Are you sure this is the right direction?”

Buggy: “Certainly, I'm as sure as I am honest!”

Shanks: “In that case, we're definitely lost.”

———

[Reader]: “You have to apologize to Shanks.”

Buggy: “Fine.”

Buggy: “'Unfuck you' or whatever.”

———

Shanks: “Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?”

Buggy: “I'm a knife.”

[Reader], from across the room: “He’s the little spoon.”

———

[Reader]: “While I’m gone, Buggy, you’re in charge.”

Buggy: “Yes!!!”

[Reader], whispering: “Shanks, you’re secretly in charge.”

Shanks: “Obviously.”

———

[Reader]: “We need a distraction.”

Shanks: “Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?”

Buggy, whispering: “My time has come.”

———

Buggy: “HELP! I TOLD [READER] I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK!”

Shanks, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: “And you thought I could help?”

———

[Reader]: "What do you think Buggy will do for a distraction?"

Shanks: "He’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do."

*Building explodes and several car alarms go off*

Shanks: "... or he could do that"

[yoongisleftearring]

part four: handsome young uncle

S E C R E T S E C R E T

pairing: Idol!Changbin x Influencer!reader

-> in which Stray Kids attempt to protect their image after an unexpected encounter with you, but, oh, Changbin is kinda hot? AND emotionally intelligent?? Oh no.

word count: 0.5k

a/n: Heyyy,,,

anyway here's to hopefully not taking any more extended breaks and if anyone wants off the taglist just lmk :))

previous < masterlist > next

Taglist: @amara-mars @mynameisnotlaura @exo-skz-imagines @pvnkfangirl @cursedcursives @soul2soull @lethallyprotected @junebug032 @soupbinlily @smally97 @wondering-out-loud @bigsobs4skz @marcillfll @marsattacks @abbiestearsricochet @3sriracha @hinanitiram @hyvnfilms @skzoolove94 @cookielino

"I'll give you a few minutes alone," the nurse whispered as he led Changbin into the room that held probably no more than six beds, pointing to where you lay. He muttered a quick 'thank you' before approaching your side. You began blinking, eyes heavy as you searched around the room, trying to decipher where exactly you were.

"You scared me," A voice spoke from beside your bed. Your head whipped in his direction, eyes squinting to make out the face before you. Your brain was still slightly foggy, and you weren't sure who he was, but you were sure what he was. Sexy. Oh my god, that man is so handsome and b- wait, why is he here? "I wasn't really hoping to add murderer to my list of fatal flaws," he grimaces at that last part. "Sorry, poor word choice given-" the man motions to your bed.

"What- Who, who are you?" you finally speak, your voice frail for some reason. 

"I'm Changbin. Seo Changbin," he speaks. Your heart feels as if it's about to stop. Good thing you're in a hospital, you think.

"No." 

"Yes?" he replies, eyes wide. He almost looks like he's slightly scared of you. Wait, you were in a hospital room. What if you got attacked by some stabbing crazy and you fell. Into a bush. And your hair is now a mess, twigs sticking out of it like an idiot? What if he's looking at you like that because you look like a stupid idiot clown? Changbin sees your eyes widen as you start to panic, breathing picking up, and you reach your hands up to touch your face. "No, no. Please, not again. Stay calm," he rushed, his arms flailing about. But how could you? He was Seo Changbin. He's famous. And sexy. And also famous.

"You're- you, Chang- Stray-" It seems like the lack of oxygen from the heavy breathing was beginning to get to your head.

"You-you know me?" All you could do was nod your head. His expression dropped, seemingly not too fond of the revelation.

"Bin," a voice called from across the room. He stood at the door, expression grim. Shit. You recognised him too. You really need to get your hands on a mirror. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"No, you should be fine to leave soon. We're just making sure you're okay, and then you can go home, okay?" the nurse explained sweetly, quickly making her way over to another bed as soon as she finished checking on you.

Two figures approached.

"How's our little fighter doing?" Changbin smiled hesitantly.

"She said you ran me over," you deadpanned. The man beside him frowned, looking at his friend.

"She said that?" he whisper yelled.

"No, but she did say I was hit by a car, and you said you almost became a murderer."

"Well, it was an accident," he smiled, a single dimple appearing on one of his cheeks. "And you're okay! Woo!" his smile was only slightly mesmerising. 

"What he means is we're very sorry, and of course, all medical expenses are going to be paid by us," the slightly taller man smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm Chan."

"Well, thank you, Chris, I appreciate it," you replied. Chan looked at his friend.

"Yeah, she knows."

"Great," the man smiled, dimples on show. "That's just great." 

[heartnosekid]

well, friends. i’m sure a good lot of you have seen this post. i was denied today. i have to contact a lawyer and i don't even know how to begin advocating for myself outside of simply contacting the firm an ex-friend of mine used to obtain disability.

if you would rather not read the whole vent, i completely understand. but if you would still like to provide answers or support to me, here are my main issues.

i need advice from others who have been denied disability and have gone through a lawyer to obtain it. i need advice on what to do about getting started with victim advocacy. that's about it, i reckon. i love you all. my dm's are open. you will be blocked if you clown.

and yes, i realize my stim blog is not the place to talk about this. i understand, but this is my largest audience and i feel i would be a fool to not post this somewhere it may be actually received.

tw for mental health talk / long vent under the cut, particularly of the despairing kind, and also mentions of CSA / CSAM, psychosis, and my general disabilities. if this post needs more trigger tags, please let me know and i'll add them.

my whole life i have been treated as if i am not struggling because i can do the bare minimum to keep myself alive. i can survive, but never thrive, and even surviving now has become difficult. i can't feed myself regularly, my guardians do that for me. i can't stand for longer than a few minutes at a time without extreme duress and pain, which makes cleaning, showering, and going out super difficult and beyond draining. i can understand abstract concepts and certain ideas and am emotionally intelligent, but i struggle heavily with understanding money or how government works, particularly when it comes to laws and loopholes. i don't know when i'm "being had", as it were, and others have pointed this out to me throughout my adulthood. it feels as though this entire disability journey has been me "being had". they gave me something to cling on to, the possibility i may be able to receive real help, and it seems as though they basically knew the whole time they were going to deny me again. for the fourth time. i know that is unrealistic but, it does feel that way.

i wrote several full length books when i was a child / young teenager, and had two published. i won't share the titles because i have outgrown what i wrote and find them childish and frankly embarrassing, but everyone upon learning that i have written and had novels published, immediately jumps to the conclusion that i am some kind of self-sufficient, incredibly intelligent and capable person. i have never once been able to effectively take care of myself. without my guardians, i wouldn't be able to manage money, insurance, bills, cars, groceries, among other things. i don't even halfway understand how insurance on anything even works despite having been shown how it works.

i can see something, be "taught" to the best of someone's ability, and i will still not be able to learn. this has been a constant issue throughout my life, and the american public school system has continually helped these issues perpetuate. all schooling has done is teach me how to parrot back concepts and ideas, remember them for a limited amount of time before losing them to the void, and not how to fundamentally understand and learn them or utilize them in daily life. even higher education was like this, and i was not able to thrive throughout my experience with college despite making mostly okay grades (i cheated and lied a lot, okay. i'm not proud of it but i felt i had to get through or i would be severely punished). i had to a sign an agreement that i personally still do not fully understand to "obtain" my associate's degree, and i do not know why despite the fact it was explained to me, in detail. the information has not registered, and i now no longer have anyone that was involved in said agreement to explain it to me. everyone i say this to is like, "what? that doesn't make any sense." and i'm like. yeah. it doesn't, and i have zero ability to explain it to them in a way that makes sense.

i mention my associate's degree because i am sure in some form or fashion it was used against me in the disability process, since i was "able to complete higher education". also it should be noted i did an early college program. also probably has been used against me. also cheated through most of it.

people have always considered my kind of autism to be hyper competent, since it appeared that way when i was a child, despite showing several signs that i was struggling with a math-centric learning disability, called dyscalculia. i have since deteriorated to the point of barely having the knowledge a young adult should have, about how life works financially and honestly in general.

i have extreme fear about what may happen to me without proper assistance. my guardians will be able to take care of me for some time, but after that? that feels like a black hole to me. it doesn't exist nor will it while i am under-assisted, and this black hole fills me with utter despair. i try not to let it permeate my daily life, so as to not dwell in a future that doesn't exist yet and has the possibility for change. but god. it fills me with literal existential dread, and it is becoming so much more difficult to ignore the older i get.

a lot of factors have been used against me my entire life to deny me assistance, and these reasons being yet another factor has really dredged up a lot of shit from my past.

this is besides the point, but i also learned recently that CSAM was made and distributed of me when i was a child and wow. that has hit me in ways i cannot even describe. part of me is like, why was i not allowed to know after the fact, even when i became an adult? i was directly involved. why did no one tell me my abuser was convicted for counts of spreading CSAM, and that they lied directly to the court system about their inappropriate actions with me? i was disenfranchised in more ways than one by more than one person on allowance of my abuser, and i am just now hearing about it. i don't know how to deal and i don't know how to get started with victim advocacy in my area.

but at the same time, whilst being treated as severely more competent than i am, i have also been infantilized relentlessly, by nearly everyone around me. how does this make any sense. i feel incredibly stupid and uninformed and at the same time privy to things about my disabilities others are not, while not being able to effectively communicate it. i feel i am screaming and begging for help, nearly at my wits end with a lot of things, and all of it is reading as "owie booboo" to anyone who could do anything to help. i feel i am falling through the cracks, and i fear having to crawl back up through them. i fear i won't make the trek. i fear i will lose motivation and let myself rot. it feels like no one in a position of power has taken a true effort to really help me and i cannot help or advocate for myself. i am very scared.

on top of all of that stuff, i am withdrawing pretty heavily from cymbalta, experiencing heightened panic attacks every day, PNES (psychogenic non-epileptic seizures), more episodes of psychosis and hallucinating than i'm used to, all of my mental and physical issues are out of control, and now this disability stuff. i also won't be able to see a psychiatrist for...maybe a week or so more, so no bridge meds till then.

these last couple weeks have just really kicked me down. thank you for reading if you got this far. i appreciate you more than you know and i have no idea where i would be without y'all and this blog. i love you all so very much.

-ish

[gripefroot]

hi!! i saw that your requests are open, but i've never sent a request before so if i'm a clown and misunderstanding how this works just uhh block me lmao

i like the sensory prompts "the residual fear and anxiety of waking up from a nightmare" and "the muffled sounds you hear when you're underwater," and vegebul!

godspeed 🙏

Something about Bulma sleeping made him want to stay in bed. 

He needed far less sleep than her, it was true. And he had far better things to do than linger: a part of him urged him to train and train and train, as it always had, and always would. But training was much the same, day in and day out, apart from occasional breakthroughs. Watching Bulma sleep, however, was always different.

Sometimes she slumped over at her desk, halfway through a mathematical equation or still clutching a wrench. Sometimes she passed out cold sitting up on the couch while a movie played in front of her. Sometimes she nodded off during a car rid, head bobbing until he relented and scooted over so her head could rest on his shoulder. For no other reason than to preserve her hard head from cracking the window of the car and getting blamed for it. No other reason at all. 

But at night, when the world slept, Bulma didn’t fade quietly between one task and the next. She fussed. She tossed and turned and sighed and often made comments he could never tell if he was expected to respond or not. She rubbed her eyes and pulled the blankets up and then kicked them back down and took off her socks and rebraided her hair and then, two hours later, she drifted off. 

Vegeta hated it. 

Why did she have to be so busy? And when she was supposed to rest, nonetheless? He might sleep better if she wasn’t so loud and annoying. He’d sleep better in his own bedroom, but he hadn’t had the heart to retreat. Not when she was sprawled out and he was pushed to the edge, and her hair had fallen out of her braid to strew over her pillow and her shoulder rose and fell. Her pajamas—if they could be given the dignity of being called clothing—twisted and rode up her body, exposing all his favorite bits and hollows of her. 

That was why he stayed. It suited his ego better than to settle on any other reason. 

He’d never met anyone who slept like her. No soldier would expose their back in such a way; to sleep without armor or really, any decent clothing at all, and no weapon anywhere within reach. Bulma, naturally, needed no weapon. Vegeta was enough of one. He could guard her against anything. 

Rolling onto his side, he nudged her leg out of his space. She mumbled something incoherent. He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. 

If he wasn’t going to train…if he wasn’t going to seek restful sleep in his own space…he may as well take advantage of it. 

Her hair tickled his nose. Against his will, his eyes closed. 

If he hadn’t been holding her, he wouldn’t have noticed when she started to tremble. He felt it long before he opened his eyes, thinking she was cold. His body heat would take care of that soon enough. But it didn’t stop, her limbs twitching at odd times in odd directions before the tiniest moan filled the room louder than a blast. 

Vegeta’s eyes flew open, his arm tensing around her waist. 

“Bulma?” His voice was jagged. From being startled, not from fear. Not because he’d never seen her so pale, nor sweat break out at her hairline. Her brows were pinched together, shoulders curved inwards as if to protect herself. Vegeta hoisted himself onto his fist, staring at her expression. 

What was—was it a nightmare? That couldn’t be right. She was no soldier. She’d participated in no wars, leveled no weapons at villages where babies were rocked to sleep. Was she sick? Yes, she must be sick. It was logical: the season was turning, and humans often got ill when the weather cooled. 

“Bulma,” he tried again, shaking her shoulder. “You need medicine. Go get medicine.” 

She cried out again, face burying in her pillow before she startled awake with a gasp. Sudden flying limbs sent Vegeta jumping back out of her small range, not wanting an accidental black eye. Bulma scrambled around, breaths coming in short puffs as she grabbed at the blankets, at her shirt, at anything. Disoriented. She’d come ‘round in a minute. 

“Do you have a fever?” Vegeta asked. 

She whirled around, eyes too-bright and blinking rapidly at his face. He waited, cross-legged at the end of her bed. 

“V—vegeta?” 

“Who else would I be?” he snapped. “Do you need medicine or not?” 

She hadn’t come around. By the glazed look in her teal eyes, she was miles away. No, further than that. A pit gnawed in his stomach at the fear that made her bottom lip tremble, at the way she pulled the blankets up to her chest, trying to kick herself away from him but only hitting the headboard. 

Lightyears away. 

Vegeta closed his eyes briefly, and sighed. 

He couldn’t guard her against himself. 

“You’re not on Namek,” he said roughly, opening his eyes again. He wanted to scowl, but didn’t, forcing himself to at least look neutral as he tried to bring her to the present. “You’re on Earth, Bulma. You’re safe.”

Safe was, of course, always relative. And she might be terrified of him from whatever nightmare she’d been having, but he wouldn’t hurt her. 

He could have. He might have. But he hadn’t. 

It was a feeble excuse to offer, but it was the only one he had. No excuses for his past and few apologies. Bulma had rightfully been terrified of him on Namek, as she’d once laughingly told him. When Vegeta had asked if she was still scared of him, she’d joked that she couldn’t be frightened of someone as secretly soft and sweet as he was. He’d hated that answer. 

He hated it because he wished it were true, and not just her affection for him coloring her opinion. 

Each of Bulma’s breaths lifted and lowered her chest. Hair stuck to her damp face, her bare legs extended. Vegeta might have approached her, if he weren’t the object of her nightmare. Touched her to calm her, give her one more verbal reassurances before his patience wore out. 

“I’m…this isn’t Namek.” Bulma’s voice was a thin warble. He didn’t like it. He’d take her shouting at him over this weakness. 

“No,” Vegeta said. 

“You’re…not here to kill me.” 

Kill her? He’d rather kill himself. 

“No,” he said again. The word cracked when it came out. 

“No,” Bulma said. The glossiness was leaving her eyes, focusing on him. “You wouldn’t. You love me.” 

Vegeta’s mouth fell open. 

“Oh…” She pinched the bridge of her nose, apparently utterly unmoved by the damning accusation she’d just uttered. “That was a bad one. I haven’t had a nightmare of Namek for months. I’m sorry if I woke you up.” 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Vegeta snapped. “And I don’t love you.” 

Bulma’s lips twitched. And when she lowered her hand she looked on the verge of a giggle. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Vegeta’s weight held on his fists on the bedspread, ready to jump right out of bed and leave. This was ridiculous. 

“Well, I love you,” she said. She sounded more himself, so he tried not to be bothered by the turn of the conversation. “Thank you for waking me up. And not leaving.” 

“I’ll go.” Vegeta swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“No!” Her hand seized his arm, pulling him back with fragile strength. He could break away, but her touch was a thousand gossamer threads, tying them together. He sucked in a breath. 

“You had a nightmare about me,” he said. He didn’t look over his shoulder, didn’t meet her eyes. 

“No,” Bulma said. “It was���it was about hanging on a cliff and my hands slipping. And then f—falling. Falling forever.” Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his forearm. 

“You don’t need to fear that,” Vegeta said in a harsh voice. “If you found yourself in such a situation in the future, I would catch you.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Then, “I know. Please stay.” 

If he left, he could sleep somewhere else. If he left, he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face again; the one where she’d still thought he would kill her. If he left, he wouldn’t have to keep lying through his teeth. 

“I have to leave early to train,” he said. 

Bulma’s grip softened. “I won’t wake you up again.” 

“You’re a menace to sleep beside.” But with a grunt Vegeta relented, anyway. Her eyes were magnified; by the late hour or the blue nightlight on the wall. She wasted no time pulling him into her arms, where he went with only a single growl of protest. Her leg hooked over his and the top of her head was snug beneath his chin. Until she tilted her head back to kiss the underside of his jaw. 

“Stop that.” Vegeta pushed her head back into place. “Go to sleep.” 

“If you’re getting up early…we may as well now.” 

“I don’t understand you,” he said. “You wake up thinking I’m here to kill you and then you wish for me to make love to you?” She was already squished against his chest, by her own strength and his holding her around her shoulders. Not even a spiderweb could pass between their bodies. Vegeta would have liked to remain aloof, but the suppleness of her body and the way her cheek nuzzled his chest made his blood surge. 

“It would be a good reminder,” Bulma chirped.

“Reminder of what?”

“That time has passed…we’re not on Namek anymore…” She sighed, trying to scoot closer. Which was, of course, impossible. “I no longer think you’d cart me off to a distant planet to have your way with me.” 

Vegeta rested his cheek against the top of her head. Because it was there. No other reason. “Then you don’t know me as well as you think,” he said. Because few things sounded more enticing than him and Bulma and an empty planet right about then. Her parents had a tendency to…interrupt. 

“Well,” Bulma said after a moment. “Fine. You could still do that. But I’d be happy about it.” 

He wanted to smile. But she’d feel his face move and she couldn’t know that she amused him. 

Maybe she already knew. How awful. 

“Go to sleep,” Vegeta said again, for what felt like the tenth time. “If you truly want, I’ll delay my training in the morning.”

Her tiny ‘yay’ made him want to smile again. So he frowned instead. 

“Vegeta,” Bulma said a while later, when her voice was thick was bleariness and he’d tracked her heartbeats until they were slow and even again. For no other reason than to make sure she wouldn’t have another nightmare and inconvenience him again. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.” 

“Say what?” 

But she didn’t respond. Fast asleep. 

Annoying of her, wasn’t it? To drop off without explanation? Because now he wouldn’t get his answer and likely by morning she’d forget what she’d been about to say. 

Not for any other reason. Not because he liked talking with her, or listening to her. Not because while she was asleep, he couldn’t protect her from her own imagination. And certainly not because he loved her.