#and I had a crying breakdown after I started my new job because i was like 'things can be this easy????'

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

re: your tags in your reblog about how taylor hasn't felt the need to fly back to the states during the euro leg and how travis was the one to go to her during his off season and the surprise pikachu of it all for her. think there are several things that have elicited that reaction from her where she's realized no, it didn't have to be the way it was despite maybe being made to feel the opposite at the time

Yup.

Again this is probably veering close to territory I don't/shouldn't get into on main because ultimately I don't think there's anything to add and it's all stuff we'll never know.

That being said, lol, I think there's been a lot in the last year that Taylor's discovered that has made her wonder about why she felt she needed to do things the way she did, and I don't even just mean in terms of her relationship. We've all kind of seen her blossoming in ways I suspect surprised even her.

But relationship-wise, I wouldn't be surprised if the way things seem to have felt easy and secure from the start with Travis made her wonder why it couldn't have been with other people in the past (ahem) and more than a little angry for a bit about how easy it is for her current partner to be supportive in a way that comes naturally when her previous one(s)... was(were) not. Obviously I can't speak for Taylor, but I certainly would have a moment of Petty Betty-ness for a little bit.

[pzychojinx]

so, jinx in act one of season two. see, for three years i expected a full on descent into chaos and madness beyond any repair. i'd made peace with that, too. so i'm surprised - pleasantly, joyfully surprised.

very long analysis ahead on where they're taking her and how it speaks to me.

we first meet her again during silco's eulogy sequence - a beautiful sequence, halfway between dreamlike and real. "just like when vander shoved off", she says about his death. except it's not. after vander's death, after vi's perceived abandonment, everything jinx could feel was self-centered. she would say "she's not my sister anymore". she would devalue these people entirely. in fact, every single reaction to any action done by her loved ones would be self-centered and extreme. that is very much how her mental process works, how her trauma caused her to work. and more so: when silco would ask of her any work, any mission, she'd do the job purely for his sake, his affection, his approval, never caring about the cause.

in short, she was never able to get out of her own head for as much as a single minute. now, she starts the funeral off with "chembarons warring for control of the lanes. wannabe street thugs squabbling over scraps. just like when vander shoved off." and it's not about her abandonment anymore. it's not about being left alone. it's not about her. she's talking to silco about his city, his legacy, his world, his chembarons, his lanes. she's out of her own head, and it's the first time we ever see it.

"because someone put all those holes in you", she says then. and this is so interesting because there's obviously a dissociation here, as well as a very intense grief and sadness. we are obviously still dealing with someone who's deeply traumatized and unstable, but let's compare this with powder after the deaths of vander, mylo and claggor. powder had a full breakdown, both turned into a complete de-evaluation of vi as i was mentioning earlier and full desperation. "i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help, i only wanted to help".

this chaotic desperation is something jinx kept within herself throughout the entirety of s1 up until - the tea party. which i'm getting at, in a minute. point being, for now, that the jinx we see during silco's eulogy is grieving and lost and rootless and asking herself "what am i supposed to do with that?", but she lacks the chaotic full-on desperation that would lead her to acts of explosive destruction and/or self-destruction in s1. in fact, she's incredibly quieter. she's more grounded, more present in her movements, in the way she fights, in the way she talks.

in retrospect even her final action in s1, the infamous missile, already had the energy we're seeing now. it wasn't instinctive, driven by hallucinations or trauma or rage or an unrestrained trigger; it was silco's legacy and it was calculated. silco's death, i think now, left jinx as rootless as she's ever been, but it also left her with an acceptance of who she is. "don't cry, you're perfect". the tea party ends with her 'choosing' jinx and if you'd asked me before season two, i would have said with full certainty it meant she'd be going to be a loose cannon. entirely and with no possibility of ever being anything else. that's not what i think now.

i think she came to terms with who she is. i think now that the seat at the tea party wasn't a symbol of complete derailing, it was in a way a symbol of acceptance. "here's to the new us". she's fought her fight between powder and jinx and the tea party has permitted her to gain, in some way, a sense of closure. very importantly, having lost what she perceived as vi's acceptance, and having lost a father, she has also been able to shed the constant and desperate need to be in their favor.

during the 'sucker' sequence, we see her going through the lanes with a hood on her hair, very low-key. loose cannon jinx would have never, ever done that. loose cannon jinx would, quite simply, not have cared. she would have been extra, and explosive, and in everyone's faces. she's preserving herself not to be found, and that's new. again, i think she's still lost and rootless and grieving and really asking herself what she's supposed to do now that she's entirely autonomous and i also think there's definitely still a lot of bitterness and rage when it comes to vi which we obviously get to see during their fight and in no way is she magically ~healthy or anything like that - however.

she is still walking those streets in a way that indicates self-preservation. it would have been very, very easy for jinx to be captured by any of those goons and/or got herself killed. and for some reason, whether that be an apathetic, mourning state or mind, or whether that be some gained peace in who she is, or both - she didn't.

given all this, the new element that season two act one has introduced for her that truly moved me and made me feel... healed in a sort of way, is the introduction of human bonds for jinx that defy her historical, co-dependent mechanism of idolization and de-evaluation. ergo, sevika and isha. this is incredible for her and most of all, it's realistic. it's a chance at something, but it doesn't feel forced, nor fairytale-esque, nor does it resemble your usual ~redemption arc.

sevika and isha function as people who she's building some bond with, and since she's a little bit less in her own fucking head, and since she's not clinging to them as idealized protectors / saviours and neither is she refusing them as betrayers, and since she's not constantly fighting between what she perceives as her double identity anymore, she finally has the possibility to experience healthier bonds. sevika functions as somebody who still ties her to silco, possibly the closest thing she has right now to any root she might have left, and it works: reminiscing silco with her, gifting her the arm, doesn't leave her utterly alone but neither does it let her fall into the trap of clinging onto yet another figure from whom to fully depend.

and isha, very obviously, functions as the possibility of healing her inner child which is a goldmine for her storyline. her bond with isha could clearly have a narrative tie to jinx & silco, to jinx & vi, and most importantly to jinx and powder herself - this is all quite obvious but again, it's not executed in a way that feels like a forced 'redemption arc' or whatnot. the idea of this little street kid who just imprints on her like a lost little duckling, which is in no way jinx's decision, simply feels natural and heartwarming. does this mean i presume such healing of her inner child is going to come easy to her? no. but it's something. it's something very different from anything she's ever experienced before.

even through the loss, the rootlessness, the grief and confusion, the panic attack we see her experiencing through the lanes as a consequence of the moment she sees vi and caitlyn's enforcer squad, even through the brutality of the fight with vi, - and this is all to say, she's still a very traumatized individual, which is important because it would have just been senseless to have jinx somehow get fully stable like a switch had been flipped - we're seeing something new for jinx here. i've seen many posts related to "i'm glad it's you", and i might be unpopular here but while i do think jinx still has an element of suicidality, i also think she was at least half bluffing there. comparing her micro-expressions with the ones back on the bridge fight with ekko, i'm under the impression she was testing vi, at the very least partially. "poisoning us with gas?" is also an interesting line because even in her attack at her sister, she's less focused on her own trauma and more on something that we've hardly seen from her before - belonging to the lanes.

all of this to say, i'm loving the path they're taking for her. it's still very much jinx. it feels like jinx. but she's not just about to wreak senseless and desperate havoc in order to be seen by either her sister or her father, because there's no one to be seen by anymore. she's not fighting a desperate battle between her identities either, because she's accepted her place. she's not loud and erratic, she's quieter and coming to terms with herself. closure is truly the word that comes to mind, for me, in how i see her arc right now. closure, and unexpectedly, possibility.

[sectumsempraaa]

Cheat Sheet

Pairing: Draco x fem/Slytherin reader

Summary: You and Draco have always been especially good friends to each other, and this time is no different. But when you step in to save him in potions class, you both start to realize that maybe, it is.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: None, mostly fluff, some cursing and kissing

Behold, my second fic! Let me know if y'all want a part 2 for this one or my first fic, And Now I Do. Thanks for being so sweet and supportive, y'all are the best :)

If you watch HOTD, you'll enjoy a quote I pulled from a recent monologue 🐉

“Sssshh, ssshh, it’s okay.” You say calmly to the first year Slytherin crying in your arms. “I get homesick, too. But soon you will make great friends here who will feel like family. I promise.” The young boy pulls back, eyes puffy and cheeks stained with tears, which bled onto your shirt, but you don’t mind. You’ve been an older sister all your life, anyways. 

Draco had been made a Prefect this year and advanced his position on the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tonight, their captain has them practicing until nearly midnight. A bit excessive to you, but the Championship tournament against Ravenclaw is coming up and they’re hungry for victory. 

Because he’s always been able to rely on you, and your generally brilliant standing in your year, he’s asked you to take over his Prefect responsibilities for the night. This really only means keeping an eye out for students after curfew and tending to any notable incidents. You like to poke fun at Draco sometimes, calling him “the Slytherin-sitter.” This job couldn’t be easier for you.

“Can you walk me back to my dorm?” he asks through gasping sobs. You feel for the kid, remembering back to when you first started at Hogwarts and were nearly shaking on the train ride over. As if that wasn’t enough, you got sorted into the world’s most hated house. But eventually, you found your group when you beat the infamous Harry Potter in a wand duel in second year in front of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You remember turning back to your house and seeing your four new favorite smirks: Draco, Pansy, Theo, and Blaise.

You wonder how Draco would have handled this boy’s breakdown. What is Draco like around kids? It’s hard for you to imagine Draco being sensitive to a first year’s emotional needs. Your only frame of reference is when you ended up in the hospital wing in third year when you and Pansy thought it would be fun to try a fire spell on the Whomping Willow. Needless to say, it backfired… badly. But you remember Draco’s bedside manner when he visited you in the infirmary. You remember him being impossibly gentle when helping you stand up, laughing to tears with you when you told him what happened, and sneaking you some of your favorite desserts from the Great Hall. Ultimately, you’ve always been there for each other.

After you drop the student off at his dorm, you scribble some notes on the incident to have on record and spend a few minutes reading on your favorite couch in the common room. Around 1AM the door opens and Draco steps through, absolutely covered in sweat, cheeks blotchy and hair soaking wet. You jump off the couch and meet him halfway through the room, grabbing his broomstick for him and leaning it up against a table. Despite still catching his breath, he manages to speak, placing a hand on your shoulder first. For balance or for affection, you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you so much for covering tonight. Anyone give you trouble?” He asks you with genuine concern.

“Let’s not worry about my completely uneventful night and instead get you out of this uniform.”

He smirks and you drop your head, immediately regretting your statement.

“Now now darling, I know you’re eager, but I’ve worked out well enough for tonight.” He replies to you with a cocky tone, winking at you just before you scoff and hit his shoulder. You turn to walk back to your dorm, but he grabs your wrist and pulls you back towards him. His demeanor shifts, eyes like ice looking down to meet yours.

“Really, thank you. I have a lot on my plate right now and you’re the only one in our band of idiots I can rely on.” He says, and you swear you can see a soft smile forming while he talks. His delicate grip on your arm and the sincereness in his voice are all you can focus on. You notice how the chill of his ring against your skin contrasts with the heat radiating off him. There it is again, that compassionate side peeking out from behind his hardened exterior; temporarily abandoning the Slytherin king for Prince Charming. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You’re fully aware you’re batting your eyelashes up at him, but you can’t help it. You feel special seeing this part of him he normally hides from others.

“Consider yourself the least idiotic of us.” He says, and you feel his thumb graze over your wrist. You think to yourself, we’ve never stood this close before. The two of you laugh and drink in this moment for another few seconds. When you both turn towards the dorms, you relay the incident with the crying boy and just like that, the classic Malfoy everyone knows shifts back, his exhaustion making it hard to keep up the act.

“Better you than me. Can’t stand it when they cry. Insolent pups.” He scowls. You roll your eyes and sigh as you lean on the threshold of your dorm room.

“Such a mother hen.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You know he likes it when you challenge him. Not many people would. 

“You know, now that I think about it, I can recall you crying on multiple occasions in first year, not excluding the time you lost that fight against-” He cuts you off, swiftly closing the door to his room. But that doesn’t suppress the sound of the laugh he lets out on the other side.

You smile, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself.

“Insolent pup.”

—

The next day, you’re in Potions class and it is glaringly apparent from the moment you sit down that Snape is in a terrible mood. Typical. You’re used to this but it doesn’t make life any easier. An angry Snape is usually accompanied by some random and unnecessary punishment.

He remains silent for a minute while staring down the class, scanning the room with eyes like daggers. Draco stumbles in the door, noticeably disoriented. You practically feel the relief emanating from him when he sees the empty seat next to you. He drops into the seat like dead weight, rubbing his bloodshot eyes that are wrapped in gray circles.

“Hey, you okay?” You whisper to him, not daring to stand out amongst the quiet class. When he doesn’t respond, or even so much as look at you, you reach to place a hand on his back.

“Draco.” He lazily turns his head towards you, finally getting his attention.

“What can I do?” You ask. Your heart sinks a little looking at your friend who is physically drained beyond repair. Moving your hand in circles on his back, you reach over to take his robe off for him, laying it on top of yours on the bench in between you. He doesn’t utter a word but you know he barely slept last night, if at all. With quidditch practice going so late and his attempt to catch up on homework until the sun reappeared, he was doomed today.

You look past Draco towards Theo, sitting at the table diagonal to yours. You watch as he shakes his head slowly, as if to warn you. Just as your gaze trails back to Draco, Snape’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

“I would like to assume you all completed the assigned chapter twelve reading this week.” He grimaces. No one is brave enough to speak up, not even Hermione Granger.

“But that would be foolish. However, I will know whether you read the material or not when I ask each pair to come up here and create a Sleeping Draught potion.” He drags on.

“...successfully.”

The class releases a collective chorus of groans and gasps, some frantically looking around for help, others using every ounce of concentration to remember the ingredients from the chapter. Your studious nature and vivid memory serve you well as you start to mentally list the instructions. Recalling Snape’s demand in your head, you repeat the words out loud.

“Each pair.” You whisper. Without giving any thought to it, you instinctively grab Draco’s hand and dip your quill in ink, lowering it to his palm that you’ve rested on your thigh. You don’t have time to notice the layer of visible panic etched on his face.

“Sorry if this hurts, hun.” You say while looking down at his hand, keeping your touch light as a feather. You’re too concentrated to acknowledge the nickname you used, but he notes it with a subtle glance.

Biting your lip, you try to make the instructions as legible as possible on his skin. Meanwhile, Draco doesn’t ask a single question, just completely submitting to you taking control. His eyes scan over your face in awe, eyelids hanging heavy, as he mentally catches up to the present moment. Here you are, saving his ass once again.

“How come?” His whisper takes you by surprise considering his defeated state.

“How come what?”

“It’s always you. How come it’s always you?” His voice is rough from fatigue, but not enough to hide the sliver of his sweeter, softer side that seems to be creeping back out of its cage again.

“Malfoy and Y/L/N, such exemplary Slytherins.” Snape remarks. ”You will go first.”

Swallowing the tension in your throat, you nod reassuringly to Draco before lifting you both to your feet, cautiously walking up to the front of the class. When you reach the table, you take in the sight of dozens of ingredients before you. The six you need stand out to you immediately, but you aren’t so sure about your partner. Truthfully, your end goal was to make it through this excruciatingly public test without him collapsing. It will be a miracle if he even remembers the answers are literally written on him.

You choose a few ingredients and nudge an elbow to Draco’s side, urging him to participate. He remains still, only turning his head towards you. You see a weakness in his eyes that breaks your heart, that makes you want to hold him in your arms, but you snap yourself back to reality. You know you have to do something. Before he can give up, you open your mouth and let the words fall out with confidence. Your voice slices through the stillness of the room, creating a sea of surprised looks. But you keep your piercing eyes directly on his.

“Lucky for you, Severus, we know this one like the back of our hand.” Your smug tone earned a hushed grumble of laughter from the class. Draco’s eyes widen with pride and realization, darting back down to his hand, gracefully hiding the cheat-sheet you inscribed on it. Your heart swells as he correctly reaches for the lavender, wormwood, and valerian sprigs.

From there, you take turns adding and mixing the components. The two of you find a rhythm and work seemingly in sync with each other. Skillfully glancing down to your discreet notes, he returns your elbow nudge from earlier while smiling down at the finished product as if to say, “Look, we did it.”

You turn to your professor and are instantly met with a cold, stoic death stare. Your heart jumps.

“10 points for the potion, 5 taken for addressing me by my first name, which you will never… utter… again… Miss Y/L/N.” He sneers.

You both nod and make your way back to your desk, taking a deep breath and finally relaxing. As the next pair hesitantly rise from their seats, you turn to each other in your seats and nearly burst out laughing immediately upon making eye contact, the both of you covering your mouths like little kids. Trying to suppress his outburst, he grasps your hand, intertwining your fingers. You’re both squeezing with enough pressure that some of the ink on his palm imprints onto yours.

Finding some energy, Draco pulls your hand towards him and reaches for his quill. He starts to reciprocate your earlier gesture, gently writing on your palm, though the writing is a little less… neat. You read the words etched messily on your skin. So, how come?

A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the moment forces you to confront the feelings you’ve developed for him. He hasn’t completely let go of your hand yet, letting his fingertips linger on yours. Still committing to the dead silence of the room, you pull his hand back towards you once again, continuing your strange and intimate game of tug-of-war. Lifting his hand to your face, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. Your confidence from the stunt you pulled starts to wither away, an abundance of nerves catching up as Draco’s hand suddenly releases from yours. Panic floods your body. 

Fuck.

But he doesn’t let it drop. No, instead, he reaches to cup your cheek, his other hand propping his head up on the desk. Your heart flutters as you relish the feel of his affectionate, gentle touch, his fingers just barely grazing your hair. There it is again. Prince Charming.

He lowers his hand and grins, pointing to the spot where the ink from his hand rubbed off on your cheek. He takes out his wand and whispers a spell to clear it, removing the evidence. He takes your hand in his again and rests them on his lap. He closes his eyes and drifts off, never letting his grip falter.

And that’s how you spent the rest of the potions class.

—

Heading back from dinner in the Great Hall that night, you spot Draco sitting on the stairs that lead down to the dungeons. You break away from the crowd, telling them you’ll catch up in a minute. You take a seat on the stair below his, facing him while resting your hands on his knee.

“I keep replaying the image of you calling him Severus in my head. There isn’t even a Gryffindor out there that could match your bravery.” He says, looking down at you with pure adoration.

“Well, I had to act quickly considering my partner was barely conscious. You were about to go down and I wasn’t going with you.”

He laughs shyly and rests a hand on top of yours.

“I got you something,” you say as you reach down to your robe pocket. In your fingers is a tiny vial of potion with a small bit of parchment tied to it with purple string, displaying his name. “It’s a bit of the very successful Sleeping Draught we made. I snuck some while you were mixing. You were a bit too… out of it to notice.”

You drop it into the palm of his hand, watching the grin on his face grow wider at the sight of the gift.

“We have a three day weekend starting tomorrow and you are going to take that and sleep through the whole thing.” You demand.

He remains quiet for a moment before moving himself down to the stair you’re sitting on, turning his body to face yours.

“To say I owe you is an understatement. I can’t possibly ever repay you.” He stores the vial in his pocket and looks back up to you.

“I don’t expect anything from you, Draco. I’m not doing you a favor. I’m just looking out for you.”

“But that’s just it, love. I rarely ever ask for your help, and yet you’re here… all the time.” His words slow their pace as he inches closer to your face, gazing down between your eyes and your lips.

You shrug with a small smile, giving him a look you know will melt his heart.

“Guess that’s what makes me such an ‘exemplary Slytherin.’” You smirk, referencing the title Snape had called you from class. And that does it for him.

He takes your head in his hands, cradling your face for a moment. He scans you over, like he’s taking a mental picture, examining your every feature. Within seconds, he’s pulling your face to him, claiming your lips with his. This isn’t a tender kiss, this kiss is everything. This kiss holds years worth of longing and laughter and gratitude. His lips move against yours slowly with no intention of breaking anytime soon. You feel your heart explode, a million little butterflies bursting from it. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He feels you smile against him, which he sends right back to you.

You feel his mouth open slightly between kisses and take the opportunity to slide your tongue in his mouth, earning a soft, satisfying groan from him. The vibration from his voice sends chills down your body, and you savor every second of it. Your tongues and lips dance with each other with hunger, claiming each other’s territory as your own. The soft texture of his lips, the rough movement of his mouth… It's almost too much. You want to get closer to him. You have to be closer to him.

You break the kiss for a second, lifting yourself up to land on his lap. As you settle down on his thighs, you run your fingers through his hair and catch glimmers of light and lust in his eyes as he continues to fall for you. Straddling him, you feel his hands immediately grabbing your ass, pushing your chest against his and crashing your lips together once again. Your arms wrap around his neck as he swallows the moan you let escape your throat. The bond between you feels electric, every thought in your head replaced by tiny, vivid sparks.

In the midst of your embrace, he detaches your lips momentarily, catching you by surprise. He maintains the intimacy, leaning his forehead on yours and nudging your nose with his.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?” He jokes and you can feel his hands move up to your waist, tightening their grip as if you’d ever try to leave.

“And I’m the eager one?” You scoff at him playfully. With your eyes so close to his, you can sense the depletion in them. That heavy-hearted feeling you experienced earlier, just when you thought he was about to give up, rises in your chest again.

“Let’s get you to bed before we get stupid and you fall apart.” You comfort him, kissing one cheek and then the other. You feel him sigh, knowing you’re right. He doesn’t have it in him to argue otherwise right now.

“Sorry, love.” He says modestly under his breath, the words laced with shame. “Promise me we can get stupid when I feel like a living person again.”

“You said it yourself, Draco. I’m here all the time. I’ll be there when you fall asleep and I’ll be ready,” you break mid-sentence to kiss him once more with vigor. You send the rest of the thought into his mouth, your voice drenched with desire.

“...when you wake up.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[rachetmath]

Yang Priorities

Yang: Hey Jaune. 

Jaune: Yes?

Yang: Remember that question me and Winter asked you?

Jaune: Yes. 

Yang: Be honest with me then am I a good sister?

Jaune I mean you are better than me but not better than Winter or Sapphron.

Yang: How so?

Jaune: Yang you have been doing Ruby dirty for a while.

Yang: Not true.

Jaune: Yang on her first day you abandoned her. How do you think we met?

Yang: um.

Jaune: Our initiation, you never once tried to save her. Weiss did that. 

Yang: Okay but that was because she needed to toughen up. Especially if she is going for the big leagues.

Jaune: Okay. First mission.

Yang: Oh come on, I was asleep. I found her and hugged her.

Jaune: Okay. After the fall of Beacon. 

Yang: Okay you can not fault me for that. I was going through it. 

Jaune: You were crying over a girl. At least she was alive. 

Yang: I lost my arm.

Jaune: Protecting Blake who you were crying over. And you got a new one. I stepped up and went with Ruby to Mistral.

Yang: I eventually came back.

Jaune: You did. But not before going after Raven. The deadbeat.

Yang: She was my- 

Jaune: Bitch, you could've just called once you were close to the city.

Yang: It would have taken me hours. 

Jaune: You had a bike.

Yang: Still.

Jaune: Okay then back Blake. You talk shit about how your mom did you dirty. But suddenly when Blake did the same shit and came back you forgave her.

Yang: She's different. She did it to protect us. 

Jaune: That's great. But here's the thing, um, we were in danger anyways. What the fuck do you mean?!

Yang: … … I-

Jaune: And the crazy part is, you prioritize Blake a lot more than your own sister.

Yang: Not-

Jaune: Yang, Beacon you gave her a lecture because she was obsessed with the White Fang. 

Weiss: Then in the house, you got Blake out first before Ruby.

Jaune: Yang you were against telling Ironwood a lie and called Ruby out on it. 

Weiss: Not once but twice.

Yang: Weiss!

Weiss: You're right. He is going to do the same thing to me. But still.

Jaune: But all of a sudden when Blake wanted to talk with Robyn you agreed to that shit! With no debate!

Yang: Okay that-

Jaune: Then when that old lady talked bad about Faunuses, you were ready to talk shit considering your girl is a Faunus. 

Yang: Okay, I-

Jaune: Nah, bitch, I am not FUCKING done. The Ever After you were crying over your sister, but before, what were you doing that you didn't notice her having a mental breakdown?

Yang: Umm… well-

Jaune:  See bitch I should- Ooh. Ooh.  

Yang: Okay but-

Jaune: And then when she finally broke down. Start yelling at Blake, you jump in front, protecting her, from your own sister. 

Yang: Okay but I am still there for her.

Jaune: You're right. You do. But still, you need to start balancing Blake and Ruby because if you don't, then your relationship will be just as bad as Qrow’s.

Yang: Yeah you're right. But hold on what makes you worse?

Jaune: Yang, I have seven sisters. The one sister you met, I allowed all of you into her house. Eat her food. Cracked her walls. Risked her wife’s job and in danger her whole family to get us to Atlas. And guess what, I never told her about Salem or the mission we're on. She's probably worried sick especially because I barely write to her. 

Yang: Damn. 

Jaune: In fact I haven't talked to my family in years. I haven't spoken to anyone in my family since Beacon.

Yang: What? 

Jaune: You heard me.

Yang: Oh my God, Jaune, you need to go home. 

Jaune: *stressed out* I know!

[yuna542]

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

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© Yuna542 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[halsteadlover]

A New Milestone

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: your daughter just started kindergarten and both you and, especially, Jay didn’t imagine how difficult seeing her grow up would be.

• Warnings: none, just fluff and ugly ass writing as usual.

• Word count: 2631.

• A/N: I was just craving some Dad!Jay fics so here it is one. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes. I hope you’ll like this fic, please let me know what you think and comment, like and reblog if you want. As always, thank you so much for everyone who supported and who’s supporting me ❤️ I love you all.

The big day had arrived.

Needless to say, neither you nor Jay were ready and, nothing, no instructions, no manuals, no googled blogs, would’ve prepared you on how tough this moment was going to be.

Your little girl was starting kindergarten and you couldn't be more desperate than you already were.

You tried not to get carried away by emotions, not wanting to be one of those oppressive mothers or always with teary eyes in front of your daughter – you’d do that later – but Jay didn't seem to be doing a very good job.

The situation was tragicomic, because on one side there was your little Sofia who was running left and right, excited and overjoyed to start kindergarten, and on the other there was Jay, who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and having a crying spell.

“What does my beautiful girl want to eat for a snack?” you asked as she was giggling with her dad. Jay wouldn't let her go, he held her as long as possible like he was going to never see her again. They were standing next to you and he didn't even seem to notice you were there as he showered her with kisses on her plump cheeks and cradled her in his arms.

“Lots of chocolate chip cookies!” she exclaimed, her green eyes shining as she toyed with her favorite puppet, a little Frozen doll obviously brought by her father.

“Nah-ah miss, you tried it, you already ate a lot of them,” you replied approaching her and leaving a kiss on her cheek before starting to prepare her snack bag.

“If my little girl wants chocolate chip cookies, she's going to have chocolate chip cookies,” Jay interjected, and you rolled your eyes, knowing you weren't going to win this debate. Sofia let out a little scream of excitement, throwing her little arms around her father's neck who hugged her even more and caressing her back. “My precious big girl.”

“Incredible,” you mumbled, trying to hide the smile that threatened to grow on your lips.

With everything prepped, it was time to drop her off at kindergarten, and needless to say neither you or Jay were ready.

You noticed how quiet he was, not speaking unless absolutely necessary. During the car ride, little Sofia kept saying how happy she was to start, to make new friends and to be with her friend Lucy. She was so exuberant you sometimes wondered where she got this side of her character from.

Jay said almost nothing, just glanced from time to time at his daughter in the rearview mirror, while his heart tightened with sadness at the thought he’d soon have to leave her.

“We're here honey,” was one of the few things he said after pulling into the kindergarten parking lot.

“Okay baby are you sure you don't want to go home with mom and dad?” Jay asked as he knelt down next to Sofia.

“Jay!”.

“Hey I'm just saying... There's still time if you want to think about it princess okay?”.

“No papa I want to go! I see you later, don't be sad,” Sofia tried to confront him and you internally bite your cheeks to prevent you from crying in front of her. She was only four but she was so emotionally intelligent.

“I'm not sad princess, I'm just very proud of you. You're a big girl now,” Jay replied, trying to keep himself calm as well. He stroked the girl's hair, then leaving a kiss on her forehead “Dad loves you very very much you know that right?”.

She nodded vigorously. “I love you too much dada and I love mommy too. But can we go?”.

“Give me a hug first.”

She hugged her father, who held her as if she was going to war and not coming home for a long time. He tried to savor every second of that hug, aware his baby girl was getting older, that the more time went by, the fewer hugs he’d receive, and this broke his heart.

When it was your turn to say goodbye to Sofia you couldn't hold back your tears, squeezing and stroking your little girl's hair as you hugged her. “I love you so much baby always remember that, and if you need anything mom and dad are always here.”

“I know mama, I love you so much too!”.

Seeing her run inside her kindergarten was a scene that generated a series of conflicting emotions.

On one hand you were so happy, knowing she was growing up, that she was starting to taste some independence, that she was going to make friends and start exploring the world. On the other hand… Damn it, it was so hard because all you wanted was to have her always with you, forever.

You glanced at Jay who was staring at the kindergarten, a melancholy and sad expression on his face.

“Are you okay baby?” you asked him as you intertwined your fingers with his. He brought his eyes to you and looked at you for a moment before nodding. “We can go.”

You walked back hand in hand to the car but he didn't utter a word and, after so many years you've been together, you knew when he was so quiet it was because he tried to suppress his emotions.

When he got into the car, he took a deep breath trying to swallow the lump in his throat before starting the car but the moment he glanced at the back seats and saw Sofia's empty seat, he couldn't control himself anymore and tears began to running down his cheeks.

He felt so ridiculous, he cried when his daughter was only few feet away and she was totally fine.

But he couldn't control it, she was his little girl, his precious princess and he was still so in disbelief she had reached this new milestone. He remembered as if it were yesterday when he picked her up for the first time as a newborn, how afraid he was of accidentally hurting her and now she was grown up, she had even started kindergarten.

He felt an immeasurable love for his daughter, a love that cannot be described in words. He would’ve given her the world if she wanted, the moon and the stars if she asked and knowing he wasn't there with her in that moment, that if she fell he wouldn't be there to dry her tears, that he wasn’t going to feed her, to help her with her hair, to play with her… Man, he felt an abyss in his chest.

You placed a hand on his arm and caressed him before hugging him to try to comfort him. Seeing him cry like that, for his little girl, did nothing but make you even more sure than you already were that you couldn't have made a better choice, you couldn't have chosen a better father for your children.

“It's okay baby, cry all you want,” you whispered, your voice broken by the tears that you too had been shedding continuously for at least half an hour.

“I don't want… Man… I don't want her to grow up so fast,” he mumbled. He pulled away from the hug, and as soon as you looked at each other you chuckled through tears, noting the condition you both were in.

“Oh God…” he sighed, handing you a handkerchief and taking one for himself with which he dried his tears.

“How is it possible she’s already in kindergarten Jay?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“Tell me about it… Our baby is getting so big.”

You nodded, sniffling as you tried to pull yourself together and regain control of yourself. “How about we go home and watch videos of her as a new born and keep crying?”.

Jay burst out laughing, giving you a kiss on the lips. “Sounds like a great idea to me love.”

And that was exactly what you did for the next few hours, with ice cream and tears in full super drama style.

When it came time to pick up Sofia, Jay looked like a kid about to go buy his favorite toy, he couldn't wait for his baby to finish and to be able to hug her again.

It was the first time he had been separated from her for so long and God only knew how much he hated it.

You couldn't stop looking at him and smiling, watching how happy he was as he packed her snacks with all of her favorite treats. No wonder why he was the favorite parent and you the bad one.

“Don't you dare take anything away,” he warned you and you threw up your hands in surrender. “My little girl deserves to be pampered after today. Do you think she’ll be tired? Did she eat? I swear to God if they didn't feed her...”

“Babe, stop,” you grabbed his face as you chuckled “She's fine, she's even forgotten about us.”

The expression of pure horror and dismay with which he looked at you as you said these words made you burst into laughter. “My little girl didn’t forget about me, I’m her father, don’t you dare ever again say such things.”

“Oh Jay, c'mon! Of course she’s fine and she’s happy, I’m sure she’s enjoying herself and all the teachers are taking care of her.”

“I hope so or I'm going to burn that place down with my own hands,” he retorted and something told you he wasn't kidding at all.

But you weren't wrong.

When Jay picked Sofia up and saw her come out with her biggest smile as she ran towards him, he calmed down, setting aside the momentary idea of blowing up the building.

“Dada!” she yelled almost literally jumping into her father’s arms, who grabbed her and spun her in the air.

“My princess!” he exclaimed, delighted to finally be able to hug his daughter again. He showered her with kisses, tickling her as she giggled and laughed. “How are you? How was you day?”.

“Where is mommy?” she asked, looking around.

“She is waiting for us at home, she had things to do but she can't wait to see you, you know?” he hugged her tightly to him with lots of affection and love “Oh baby I missed you so much”.

“I missed you too much dada! You know we played with paint on our hands! Can we do it too with mama?” she looked at him with puppy eyes that weren't even needed that moment, Jay would’ve dug with his own hands and panned for gold if she'd asked.

“We'll do whatever you want baby, ask and I’ll give it to you,” he replied smiling and stroking her cheeks after caressing her hair “So, did you have fun? Have you made any friends?” he asked as they walked towards the parking lot, Sofia still in his arms as she talked about everything she did.

“Do you want to see a surprise?” he asked once they got close to the car and after setting her gently on the ground.

She nodded and let out a little squeal of delight as she jumped and clapped her little hands.

“Close your eyes then. And don't cheat, otherwise no surprise.”

She covered her eyes with her small hands. “No I don't cheat dada.”

Jay made sure she wasn't peeking and opened the passenger side door, taking the small bouquet of flowers from the seat before tucking it behind his back and kneeling in front of his daughter. He brought the flowers before arriving in kindergarten, wanting to somehow give his daughter a small prize and show her how proud he was of her.

“Okay you can open your eyes baby.”

He showed the bouquet to Sofia as she took her hands away from her eyes and the little cry of joy she let out and the look of pure happiness on her face made his heart melt. In that very moment he wished he had bought the whole flower shop, just so he could forever look at the joy the little girl was feeling.

“They are my favorites! Are they all for me?”.

“Obviously they’re all for you honey. Dada is so proud of you, you're becoming a young lady now.”

“Thank you daddy! I love you so much!” she hugged him, squeezing him as tight as she could with her little arms. She smelled the flowers, lilac tulips, her favorite color and flower. “I like them a lot dada”.

“I'm happy you liked them baby, I love you too so much,” he smiled as she tried to hold the flowers in her arms without dropping it. “What you say if we go back to mom now?”.

She nodded happily and after they got into the car and settled her into her seat, Jay started the car and drove home. He listened to all the stories and events happened today that Sofia told him, with attention and joy, realizing how much he loved hearing her talk. She was definitely talkative and Jay loved it so much, mostly because it was something little Halstead definitely got from you.

He took the opportunity to stop at a toy store to buy the paint and brushes his little girl wanted. And of course how could he say no when his daughter asked him to buy some toys and a dollhouse with that sweet little voice and puppy dog eyes?

He blamed you for this. She got from her mother this ability to make him give up so quickly and the way of using her puppy dog eyes to make him do whatever she wanted.

He blamed you because he didn't want to admit she had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it, that little devil, she knew how to play on her father's feelings because he loved her more than himself.

So when they got home and Jay was carrying a huge bag of dolls and toys with a dollhouse in his arms, you weren't even surprised. Honestly, you wouldn't have expected otherwise.

As Sofia played with her new toys, you didn't waste time admonishing Jay about how much he was spoiling her. “It's not good spoiling her too much baby…”

“Luckily, you're here to play the dictator and restore order in this house,” he replied with an amused smile. “Asshole,” you tossed him the shirt you were folding, but not being able to hold back your laughter. He was too handsome and adorable to even pretend to be angry with him. “What are you hiding behind your back?” you asked as you noticed he had one arm hidden while with the other took the shirt you had just thrown at him and laid it on the bed.

He held out his other hand, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, more precisely your favorite flowers, leaving you speechless.

“Jay...” you whispered in amazement as you took the bouquet from his hand and smell it. “Why the flowers? Did I forget some special event?”.

“Because you deserve it baby and honestly it's the least I can do,” he replied. He looked at you and the way your eyes sparkled and the way you were smiling made his heart melt, a flock of butterflies gripping his stomach just like the first day. “Because you gave me the best gift I could ever ask for, you gave me our little girl and our family and I’ll be eternally grateful to you. Because I’m in love with you in a way I’ve never thought I’d be with someone and because you make me the happiest I’ve ever been every single day. I’d honestly be nothing with you. So thank you baby, for everything.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @mrspeacem1nusone, @halstead-severide-fan, @allivzs

Jay Halstead tag list: @burgstead, @bebataylor84, @ares-kelani-wayne, @ixna-mikaelsn, @sande5098, @smoothdogsgirl, @withakindheartx, @jess2013, @maddu-oliveira, @lovemesomepietro, @onechicagodrawings, @jinxfan18, @ready-hit-it, @rainroo2, @tinfoilhat2719, @upsteadlovingheart, @secondaryjob, @nevaehstreater18, @sophiatellerrhodes, @dedlund82, @kellykidd, @rippi3s, @stephanie708, @annahargrove, @smutlOver, @kuroe-san, @caroldanverwife, @baby, @nosy09, @luvreading67, @danielmarie, @saiyuo12, @nachodaze, @waywardhunter95, @fighterkimburgess, @ephemeral314, @mads-weasley, @itskellysev, @lovemedlife, @atarmychick007, @amazedbyitall, @glodessa, @xeleni-dutchnurse, @ossypooh, @itriedtoexplain, @randomwriter1021, @averyhotchner, @ellavanderberg, @mrshalsteadxx, @junevoidzombie, @nocturnalherb16, @croissantthief, @jayhalsteadsbadge, @youngblood199456, @dreamss-wavess, @halsteadloversworld, @laaaauuraaaaa, @firerusher, @itserickalove, @23victoria, @slytherlight, @goingwiththewind, @notanordinaryprincess95, @mel0809, @cadyfanninger, @acewritesfics, @iloveest, @instantpizzacat, @wickedlovely121, @hart-kinsella

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Main Masterlist

Jay Halstead Masterlist

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Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

[mxgyver]

this is literally the worst college experience I've had in my life and I've literally cried so much for so many reasons

have a moodboard of how my life feels right now

how I'm feeling right now because the first week of my semester just started and I've already had some of my classes changed TWICE

[autistic-danieljackson]

So here's what Stargate Atlantis: The Official Companion Season 3 has to say about Sunday:

"It's more complicated than anyone will ever know," says writer Martin Gero of why the decision was taken to kill off Carson Beckett. "It wasn't like, 'Hey, let's kill somebody!' It was for numerous, incredibly complex reasons, having to do with the show overall."

*cough* Ratings *cough*

For a long time, Gero had wanted to see the characters of Stargate: Atlantis in a situation very different from the perils they usually face. He wanted to see them during 'down time'; relaxing, enjoying each other's company and generally having a life not plagued by danger.

Martin Gero, the writer we deserve.

"For a couple of years Martin had wanted to do an episode about a day off," recalls executive producer Brad Wright, "a non-urgent mission. And I said 'Well, I love that as the backdrop...and then something incredibly dramatic happens!' Because I don't think the audience wants to watch anyone sleeping. A day off that is un-dramatic and does not have a huge event centered around it is not going to be that good."

Listen. I don't know about anyone else but I know this is mine and many fan-fic writers' dream. I want to see every bit of a characters life. I would've watched 15 episodes about the characters having lunch and playing board games and hanging out. There is literally nothing more I want to see than my favorite characters having a good time. Just say it's for the ratings, don't try and put this on the audience. Alright, enough of my interjection back to the book.

"I had been pitching this day off episode forever," says Gero. "Brad said, 'This is a dangerous place. There are no days off in Atlantis.'"

Again, bullshit but I'll hold my tongue.

Then there's a bit about how they decided to write things and film things and the different processes they went through. Then more from Martin Gero at the end:

"Usually when we show the director's cut of shows up here [in the production office], it goes through the gauntlet of people making fun of it. That's harsh, but it's an important part of the process because you need to know what doesn't work. And the more vocal your audience, the better, so that when the producers go down to do the final cut, we can try to make the episode better. That started, and then for the last three acts there was really complete silence. When the lights came up, I turned around and Brad was crying. Everyone was just very somber. It was awful that we had to do it, but Brad thinks it's the best episode of Atlantis, period."

No one made you do this!! In fact, we all would've liked very much if you hadn't done it!

After the breakdown of each episode, there's a little report on each main cast character and a blurb about the recurring cast as well as sections about the making of the show. Here's some from Carson's report:

McGillion reveals that whatever shock the audience felt when they learned of Beckett's demise, it was nothing to his own. "It was absolutely not my decision to leave the show," he says plainly, remembering how he heard the news. "We shot 'Phantoms' on location. We came back for one day to finish the episode on the stage, and one of the ADs asked me to go up to the office because [executive producer N.] John Smith wanted to talk to me. I thought, okay, maybe they saw the dailies for 'Phantoms' and they're really happy with my work. Maybe they want to say, 'You did a good job,'" he recalls. "I did not see it coming at all. We went to Brad's office and it was myself, John, Brad, and Robert. I have to have respect for what they did - they called me to the office and told me in person that they wanted to shake things up with the show and unfortunately they had to kill a character off. It had to be somebody of significance so that the fans would have a reaction to it. And my number came up. I was shocked, to be honest with you, and I was disappointed because I love working on the show and I've had some great relationships with the cast and crew."

Wanted. to. Shake. Things. Up.

For McGillion, filming Beckett's final episode after three years of working with the same cast and crew was, understandably, not easy. "It was very difficult to shoot, especially that last scene with David."

Stop I'm crying again 😭

Then it's talking for a bit about how Paul had to come back to film a bit after 'Sunday' and that the last things he filmed were for 'The Ark.'

"I forget exactly what the scene was. I was kind of blurred that day because I knew it was my last day and no one else did," the actor recalls. "I didn't want anyone else to know because I'm somewhat like Beckett, I wear my heart on my sleeve and I didn't want to get emotional. Martin [Wood] shot 'The Ark', and [he and] Alex Pappas, who is the greatest AD that we have, were going to make a little announcement: 'This is a wrap on Paul for the show.' I asked Alex not to do that, because I just couldn't deal with that at that point in time. I didn't even tell the cast. We shoot so much out of sequence that no one knows when it's someone's last day. So I left and I saw Rachel [Luttrell] and told her. David had left [so] I called him to let him know. The next night all the cast went out for dinner, so that was nice. It's tough, but I'd rather just go out quietly."

Real life Carson Beckett, I love him so much 🥺

But that's about what it says on the episode. I know people have been saying this forever but I like to get it from the source as well. I am even angrier now than I was before which I truly did not think was possible.

If you like behind the scenes stuff, I think this is a great book! I'm going to follow along when I do my Atlantis watch-through, there's a lot of great stuff in here. Would recommend if you can get your hands on it, even if it does make you extremely angry at times. 😂

[blingblong55]

Science- 141 + Los Vaqueros

This is based on a request:

Im sorry if this is such a downer but im in a really bad place rn andi need something to cope but can I have Los Vaqueros + 141 seeing their best nurse crying because their parents called them a failure for dropping out a doctor and wasting money and now their nurse thinks she's useless. The extent of their sadness is to the point of a seriously bad mental breakdown

Angst?, some fluff, platonic relationship, F!Reader

It's just science Don't let it break you down

You had become the favourite nurse for all of the 141 and Los Vaqueros men. So much so that in any mission where they had to go to a new country, you'd have to go as well. They trusted you with anything and everything, no doctor or other medical staff could get through them like you did. The one man that trusted you the most was Ghost, before he took his mask off back in Mexico, you had already seen that face, hundreds of times.

141 and Los Vaqueros, are working together in a new assignment, you of course were told to go with them. But after the last mission, you found it hard to concentrate on much. Things were becoming more difficult, and best believe there was a reason for this.

You have been a nurse in the military for about 5 years now, the things you've learned in you field, the memories you have created and people you've met are something you thank you job for. But about a year into you working as a nurse, you started to look into becoming a doctor. Something you always dreamed of becoming, and to be honest, it was a job position your family saw you in. Once you go into medical school, the worst stress you had gone through, it took a year and a half of your life to quit that dream.

You only had told your family you were pursuing that dream and of course Laswell, who moved your schedule around so you could attend school. On a great day, well at the beginning, your family called you.

They had received the news you had quit med school, and best believe they kept yelling at you. The text messages were also no good,

Mum: how dare you!!!!

Mum: we worked hard to give you a good life and education and the only thing we asked was for you to become a doctor and you failed us!

Dad: You are such a disappointment

Dad: a literal disgrace to my family

For days on end, the calls and messages kept coming through. Every day you'd start with a headache, reading through their shit messages, crying before breakfast and acting as if you only slept so little. It was getting out of hand, you started to get more and more tired.

You questioned your role in the military, asking yourself if you were even good enough to help people. But, you could cope with all that, it was easy to do it. It had become so usual to feel these things and ask all of these questions to yourself, it no longer fazed you. You'd jog or run to get this energy out of you.

Until tonight.

Echo team had been sent to a mission, a terrible one. Everyone came back with at least one injury. Blood on the floor as a few soldiers were dragged into beds. Everyone was woken up, Delta and Charlie team were sent to finish the mission. But as you and the other medical personnel ran through the med-bay, helping anyone that required assistance, you had found yourself crying in some supply closet.

Soap and Rudy had heard about the hectic night all of the medical teams were going through and the first person they thought of was you. So, naturally for the two men, they wanted to show you how much they appreciated the job you were doing. They made you some rather warm coffee and your favourite, carrot cake, well more like fairy cake/cupcake.

For about 30 minutes, they went around med-bay, calling and asking for you. Most shrugged and jogged back to some other rooms, others pointed in different directions. And thats when they heard your cry. They knew the stressed you put into tonight, but they didn't quite understand it, so they called for backup.

The rest of 141 and Alejandro were all waiting for the right time to open that door. One single knock and they couldn't hear you, "Hey kid, its us...can we come in?"

You unlock the door, the second you see Price, your arms wrapped around him as you hugged him. You sobbed and mumbled some words he couldn't quite make out. His hands patting and rubbing your back. Your sobs becoming louder as he whispers, "It's okay, kiddo. Let it out, we're here."

The other men just stayed quiet and stared. Mental breakdowns were normal in the military, the stress and pressure you are put through is beyond what civilians can go through. So, in some sad way, they all understood. Slowly, priced took you by the hand and guided you out of the closet in which you had spent at least an hour crying and laughing at yourself at.

Once they reached their part of base and into the common room, you stay there, arms crossed, a pillow being held.

"Lass," Soap said in a soft and gentle voice as he was the first to break the silence, "can I ask, what caused this?" He always cared so much for you, after all, you had become his best girl, and the only person to tolerate his banter.

"I....I think...no, I know I don't belong here."

"Belong where?" Alejandro asks.

"Here."

Ghost chuckles, he sits down and pats your leg, "I don't belong here, Soap, Gaz, and sure as hell Rudy doesn't either," he sighs and pauses, his finger at your chin as he makes you look at him, his other hand caressing your cheek and wiping your tears, "and my beloved, I know you don't belong here too." His voice carrying sincerity.

"Price and I, we may have our years of experience, but," Alejandro sits next to you, "sometimes things get hard, it happens."

"We can only take so much before we break, my dear." Gaz sits across from you.

"What caused this?" Rudy asked,

You sigh and look at the pillow, playing with the edges of it before answering, "a...a while ago I decided to become doctor," you paused before feeling like you were disappointing them, "I only lasted a year and a half in med school."

Price understood, in a way, why you had that mental breakdown.

"Y'know, I didn't become captain so easily."

"I failed a test and re took it well over 13 times before they made me colonel." Alejandro confesses

"And he made me the subject of that frustration." Rudy laughed a little.

"It was yer parents, wasn't it, lass" Soap spoke up, he and Gaz knew the story.

You, overworking yourself to make them proud, although that never came around. The word "proud", was never said to you, thats why you over accomplish things and thats why you are here in a couch, crying and being comforted by the men you have grown to call a family.

You look at soap, ghost's hand still rubbing your cheek as he wipes the tears away. "Yes."

Soap gets up and goes to you, kneeling in front of you as he looked you in the eyes, "You were born into a family that doesn't always appreciate you. But one day things are going to be very different."

He stood up, held your hand and gestured for the others to follow his lead, "c'mere, my bonnie." He kissed your forehead and hugged you, the other men doing the same.

At least 30 seconds after they gave into this group hug, gaz spoke first, "I don't mean to say this in a bad way, but...I think she gets it, hug over."

You chuckled and they pulled away, Price and soap stayed though.

"We love you kiddo, your place in this team is the most valuable." Price kissed your cheek and pulled away, not Soap, this was his excuse to show you his appreciation for you.

"We love ya so so much, but I do love ya more," he kissed your forehead once more before looking into your eyes, "my very best gal." He winks and wink back, something you two have been doing after each moment like this, although this time, the other witnessed it.

it's just science Don't let it scare you now

-----

A/N: Yes, I did use that Matilda quote...shut it..anyways..love ya<3

Tags: @anonymuslydumb (love ya, pookie bear<33333)

[idyllcy]

from one admirer to another : new years?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Christmas...

SUNNY'S SO CUTE AUGHHHHHHH... I drew a twitter mental breakdown emote trust me I'm going through it. Sunny looks so cute. My roommate and I have a black cat called sesame bun, but she doesn't register on polaroids or film so I cry a little each time I see photos of her. Wish I had your number so I could send you photos of her, but that's against FOATA policy, so... oopsie.

You forgot to get their number?? That's an insane thing to say. How do you just casually— okay, well, on that topic, I forgot to get the number of the dude I was making out with on new years as well. It doesn't help that I was so drunk that I barely remember what he looks like. All I know is that he was hot and at the same new years party as me. I don't even remember what he called me. He was just so... hot. Okay, sorry, this isn't about me. This is about you. YEAH. I'M SHAMING YOU FOR NOT GETTING THEIR NUMBER (joke) And, yes, you used it right)

We're friends. I promise lol.

I live with my best friend! We're actually day ones and when she started working her current job, I was there with her at her first event. I can't say too much about her, but we've lived together ever since. I'm like... her stay-at-home best friend? Something like that. I earn less than she does, and she bought the whole apartment with her first paycheck, so now I just do everything that a husband would. Basically, I cook and clean on days I don't work and I dry her hair for her after her showers.

She helped me a lot (well, I live in her apartment so there's that) and I just love her so much :(.

The other two in our little group in high school also went into the same industry as her, except in different directions, so we see them every now and then. Sisters before misters or whatever. She and I are 4 lifers.

As for stuff about me... not too much to say. I told you all of my defining factors already. Sesame bun was adopted when we first got the house, so she's like four years old now. Cute little girl. I attached a keychain I ended up winning from another Ada event. I have one already, so I figured it would be better in your hands.

Hope you get that model's number, scrambled eggs

You seal the letter and toss it on your bedstand by your phone and head to the kitchen instead of bed because 1. you're hungry, 2. you're hungry, 3. you're hungry. You want a quick snack.

"Hey." Ada raises a brow at you at the sight of your laptop in hand. "Killing half of your reading population again?"

"It's just the comfort now." You yawn. "I want ramen."

"Shin noodles is not ramen." Ada pauses. "Also, no. You're cutting for your next shoot, remember?"

"God, can't they CGI it or something? God forbid a human eat for once." You huff, grabbing a pack of konjac jelly instead, huffing as you pop open your laptop. "I hate this industry."

"It's not that you can't eat."

"Where's the medicine for blood sugar?"

"You already had one today. You'll be fine." Ada hands you a jerky packet, and you groan in bliss.

"China my beloved."

Ada rolls her eyes, going back to her phone to text her relatives again. "Anything you want mailed this time?"

"阿尔卑斯..." You mumble. "Alps lollipops my beloved... please..."

"I'll let them know. Anything else?"

"QQ gummies are here now, huh?"

"Yeah." She pauses. "Let's have them mail some anyway."

"Love you."

"Yeah, yeah. Anything else that they can legally mail over?"

"Oh, I want gum."

"Extra?"

"Yuh. The white packaging one." You grin. "I'll dedicate this chapter to you again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." You blow a kiss at her, and she rolls her eyes.

"Sap."

"I'M HURT."

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[itsasainz]

passionfruit | pierre gasly x reader

Summary: You’re pulling away, so is he. Neither of you can blame the other, it’s just the natural progression of things.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings/tags: anxiety, breakdown of a relationship, angst, minor implications of some mental health difficulties

a/n: never written for pierre, but here I am writing all this in a few hours. I don't know where this came from lmao. requests open <3

masterlist!

Listen

Seein’ you got ritualistic

Cleansin’ my soul of addiction for now

‘Cause I’m fallin’ apart, yeah

He can pinpoint the moment you realised you’d reached a stagnant point in your relationship with him to the minute; it had been early December — he had spent the fortnight after Abu Dhabi sorting everything out with Alpine, having wrapped things up with AlphaTauri within days of the last race. You’d flown back to London on the Tuesday after the race, leaving him in the Middle East with his new team — you still had a job, you’d reminded him, and that he’d see you in two weeks when he came to London to see you. It would be your third Christmas together, and you were spending it in France with him. Three weeks together, the longest you’d have spent together consecutively in months. He remembers the realisation in your voice, the two of you stood in a cramped South London flat you hated; still refusing to move to Milan.

“Pierre, we’ve had this planned for weeks.” you had said — there was no malice in your tone, a surprising lack of your usual heat. He remembers it striking him more deeply than he’d anticipated — the disappointment, and the overwhelming loneliness in your voice.

“Mon ange, there’s nothing I can do. It’s a team thing, I can’t start missing them before I’m even a proper member of the team.”

Your eyes never left his, a sense of judgement in the furrow of your brow. “Is Esteban going?”

He opened his mouth to say something, then a flicker of doubt arose. He’d thought he wasn’t, but now he thinks about it, the Frenchman had been discussing it with Elena only days ago. “I think so.”

“Then they’ve got one driver, they don’t need two. You’re double booked, and we’ve had this planned for weeks.”

He’d sighed — you understood exactly why he couldn’t just cancel, and he now understands that you wanted him to confirm to you that you were also a priority, and that he wasn’t only focused on work. He remembers the way you’d looked away from him, tears threatening to spill; it had felt disproportionate in the moment — crying because he couldn’t make it to dinner with your friends who he barely knew was dramatic. Now, he regrets his dismissal.

You’re asleep beside him, turned away, as curled up as you can be in a plane seat. He’d been surprised when you’d told him you were still coming to Bahrain, and then embarrassed that he’d assumed you wouldn’t come; did he really think that poorly of your relationship?

He’d realised, in his travels through January and February, his days away from you, that he can only really breathe when he’s with you; now though, you seem further away, like he’s never quite with you, even when he’s sitting inches away from you. He wonders if the closest you get these days is during sex, and hates the idea that nearly three years of your relationship might have come down to sex being the most emotional you can be with him. When was the last time you told him about your work anxieties or, for that matter, any of your actual emotions, deeper than a dismissive comment about being stressed or simply fine.

Appearances are maintained at the airport and the hotel, where you smile and kiss his friends on each cheek, laughing and joking with them like you’re not down, like you’re not avoiding his conversation. It persists into the weekend itself — you spend more time with Isa than with him, chatting in hospitality until he’s done, and then seem to immediately shut down, even if he knows you’ve had a good day. You’re brief with your affection until, seemingly suddenly on Friday evening, as he’s skipping through channels on the TV in the hotel room, you wrap yourself around him, ear pressed to his heart, breathing soft and hands cold. He’s puzzled, almost upset by your sudden affection, but he leaves his thoughts at a kiss to your temple. He falls asleep with you on top of him, your shampoo filling his senses.

The next day, after Quali, you apologise for his poor luck. Again, he finds himself blindsided; you’ve never been one to apologise for that which you can’t control. He turns it over in his head all night, once again finding your affection puzzling, and his reaction to it even more confusing, and decides he’s overthinking it. You fall asleep in his arms less often than he’d like, and he’s got to make the most of it.

Sunday has a stranger vibe still. You’re withdrawn, and he can probably count the words you share on his fingers. It’s impossible to know how to deal with it, or what to do or say to fix it. It’s that thought that he gets stuck on in the media pen after the race — what if it can’t be fixed? What if it’s not his responsibility to fix it?

When Charles asks if you’re coming out after the race, Pierre responds for you, given your absence. “No,” he says, “I think she’d rather stay in tonight.”

“Are you staying in?” Charles frowns. It’s admittedly unusual for Pierre to want to come out on nights like these without you at his side.

“Nah, I’m coming.” he assures his friend, leaving you a text to say he won’t be home until late.

Tension

Between us just like picket fences

You got issues that I won’t mention for now

‘Cause we're fallin’ apart

You want to say; points are impressive given where you started. You want to say; I’m proud of you. You want to see him, at the very least, but other than the ten minutes he spared for you after the race, you’ve barely spoken to him. His text is glaring up at you, a cruel joke.

He doesn’t want you here.

It’s the most logical explanation; he nearly jumped when you started cuddling on Friday, and barely any words have been shared. At least if you’re not speaking you’re not arguing. It doesn’t help that you’re down as it is, feeling like your brain has been fried by travelling and anxiety and the overwhelming feeling that you’re at the end of a chapter in your life. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t asked, hasn’t probed to find out more about your current state.

It’s not his responsibility, you keep reminding yourself, he’s your boyfriend, not your parent. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. The debate has been circling your mind for hours. If he cares so much, why doesn’t he say anything when you’re like this. If you’re as grown as you think you are, why are you so dependent on his care?

There's a nineties RomCom on the TV — you leave it on in the background while you scroll back through your texts with Pierre, wondering when it got like this, when he started to feel so distant. Who started it? Is it possible to say it was either one of you? Is it salvageable?

A thought of breaking up passes through your mind, snagging on unwelcome thoughts. You know that of the two and a half, nearly three, years that Pierre has been your boyfriend, more than two of those years were blissful. But the past months are tainting it — if you were to break up, would your memories of his love be marred by how lacking it feels in these moments?

The thought that snags, catching like cotton on barbed wire, is that perhaps you have wasted the first half of your twenties being in love with a man who cannot love you like you need him to. You think of the nights out you’d vetoed to spend an evening with him, of the opportunities you’d passed on to be around when he was in London, or the things you’d missed by constantly jetting off to Milan or whichever Grand Prix he was headed to. You think of the hours of your life you’ve spent in airports, anxious and tired, uprooting your life to spend 24 hours with him, to cry two nights later when he dropped you off for your flight home. You think of the years of your life you’ve spent caught between where your home was — with him, or with the rest of your life. It wasn’t a fair comparison. It wasn’t fair to resent him for something he had repeatedly provided solutions for.

Nevertheless, it felt clearer now. You didn’t feel settled in his company the way you always had — no, now you felt anxious. Anxious about being enough for him, about how good of a wag you were, or how good you were at being his girlfriend, at doing everything you felt you should.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It’s strange, you realise, that your communication with Pierre suddenly spiked the moment you were apart. How could you feel closer to him from 600 miles away than you did when you were right next to him?

He’d been texting lots, the two of you telling each other about your days again, complaining about rude colleagues or getting excited over the smallest of things. Over the phone, he’d listened while you talked about how you’d been down lately, worried about work and friends and, though you didn’t say it, him. He’s loving, and you return it in earnest. You miss him more than you care to admit, and for a few seconds at a time, you get the sense he misses you too. There’s no bickering, not a cruel word said.

You’re doing most of the talking, that much is also true. He listens, which feels like an achievement, but you still catch yourself wondering if he’s absorbing what you’re telling him, or if he still thinks about you when you’re not on the phone or texting. You don’t tell him you’ve been crying more than usual, or that your anxiety is through the roof, nor do you tell him that whenever you try to find the source of your anxiety, your mind finds to him like a compass finds north. You don’t tell him that you’re biting your nails again, or that you keep making mistakes at work.

Midweek, you’re in your kitchen, cutting a passionfruit in half on FaceTime. The pulp has covered your fingers, and you sit with a bowl under your hands, a spoon scooping the seeds out of the rind. For a minute he’s distracted by the fact that he’d forgotten your love for the fruit, and then wonders if they’re in season. He watches you eat a little, and continues what he was saying. He’s talking about the Saudi Grand Prix, about the logistics and some issues with his flight. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned that he wanted you to be there, but he’s avoiding talking about guests now, or Paddock Passes.

“Pierre,” you say, a deep breath.

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you want me there?”

There’s a long pause, stretching out before you. Does he want you?

“Do you want to be there?” he asks in return.

It’s like a kick to the gut. You don’t have it in you to answer, only a fear that if you open your mouth it��ll all spew out — the resentment, the fear, the anger you suddenly feel. You want to be there for him, and it feels like he’s just told you you’re no longer an important factor in his well being — no longer a person who makes him feel remotely good. What’s worse is that you think that, if that is true, it’s entirely justified. You’ve not been the easiest to be around lately, nor the most easily placated. He hangs up not long after, and you wish he couldn’t make you cry quite so easily.

Passionate from miles away

Passive with the things you say

Passin’ up on my old ways

I can’t blame you, no, no

It seems to Pierre that you are present in every spare second he has. Walking between meetings, pausing during training to take a drink — you’re there, in his mind, a constant reminder that he can’t breathe. Bahrain fucked with his head — suddenly, not even your presence eased his mind. You’ve always been easy to be around, aware of the dynamics and moods around you, always knowing what to say or what to do. You weren’t like that in Bahrain, you were quiet and withdrawn and a hundred miles away. The thought that circulates his head comes back stronger every time he thinks of you, misses you — is it him? Is he the issue?

That night in your flat, back in December, has been turned over in his head so many times he’s sure his retrospection has completely distorted the night, that his memory of it is more of a manifestation of all the possible ways he could have fucked up than a true representation of what happened. He’s trying to find time for you, responding to your texts the moment he has a free minute, FaceTiming you on his free evenings. He’s going to Enfield for a few days before he’s off to Jeddah, and the idea of getting to spend a few days with you is exciting, and yet somehow he’s dreading it.

He’s not sure how he’s gotten to this point, especially when he cares so deeply for you; his dread seems to root from the fear that he’s worse for you than he is good, and that is too scary a thought to address. He wants the best for you, he always has, and for years he thought he was that — something right, and something that made you feel better, happier, the way a loved one should. Now he's less sure that that’s true — he’s scared he’s draining, and the thought is pulling him away from you. What’s worse is the fact he knows, intuitively, that your feelings are mirroring his. How do you break out of this? How do you get back to a place where you are both confident in your love for one another, and assured in the fact that you are loved?

And then on Wednesday he’s watching you cut that passionfruit and he’s saying more than he has all week, getting the drama about travelling to Jeddah off his chest, scared to bring up the possibility of you coming with him in case you shut him down, and he has to go knowing you actively avoided coming. That’s when you drop the question, right as he’s stumbling over how not to get rejected if he asks you to come. He doesn’t want a repeat of the awkward silence that plagued you in Sakhir.

“Do you want me to be there?”

He doesn’t know what to say. Yes, God, he wants nothing more, but if you’re going to be quiet and cold like you were in Sakhir, he’d rather go without the stress of doubting himself and your relationship. He finds it strange that you’d ask — he would have you by his side every weekend if you’d let him, and he is certain you know that. In his head, the only explanation for your question is that you’re asking for a reason not to go. If you don’t want to be there he won’t ask you to be.

He doesn’t get a response when he turns the question back on you, and the seeds of doubt have been planted. His security about where he stands with you has crumbled, its already worn foundations collapsing under him. He is nearly winded by the panic of losing you. By the time he’s understood how he feels and what he wants to say, you’re hanging up, wishing him a good night. He curses himself for his indecision, and prays you’ll text him to say you do want to come to Jeddah.

Listen

Harder buildin’ trust from a distance

I think we should rule out commitment for now

‘Cause we’re fallin’ apart

It’s cemented in his mind that he has to end things by the time he’s landed in London, your text waiting to say that you can’t wait to see him. It’s for the best, he thinks, that he doesn’t drag this on for longer than need be — you’re clearly miserable in this relationship, and it is the right thing, the good thing, to do. You won’t end it yourself, he knows you well enough to know that; he knows you have a thing about not giving up, it’s a trait he understands better than you’re aware of — he can respect nothing if not your commitment. But he doesn’t truly believe that commitment of this kind, where he keeps making you cry, where neither of you can see a way of fixing it, is the kind you should cling to. It’s one thing to be committed, it’s another thing entirely to refuse to see that you are clinging to something that is long gone. He loves you, and he is more than aware that you love him, but he cannot justify the static, drawn out suffering of your relationship’s breakdown. He thinks you’ve probably already broken things off mentally, that your final probes have been about confirming that it’s the right thing to do — he’s done little to help his case.

He stands in the stairwell of your flats for longer than he should. He’s motionless in the landing between two floors, suitcase beside him, suddenly wondering if he should just get it over with. He can’t though, he’s not ready, and it’s not fair on you if he’ll be around for the next few days. He’ll do it on the last day, so you don’t have to look at him for too long.

He’s never been less sure of himself. That’s why he’s doing this — if he should be sure of anything, it should be his relationship.

When the doubt persists for the rest of his three days in London, he is assured that neither of you are in the place for a relationship. It feels strange thinking that knowing that you’ve spent nearly three years together, but he guesses you’ve grown apart. Grown apart or fallen apart, he’s not sure there’s much of a difference when it comes to you two.

On Wednesday morning, eating breakfast in your kitchen before he gets ready to go to the airport, he braces himself. He’d meant to do it last night, but you’d gone out for dinner together and he was too distracted by self doubt to do what he meant to.

“Y/N,” he starts. You watch him squirm, trying to find the words, and he suddenly realises you look expectant, like you know where this is going. “Do you actually want to be with me? Because I just have this feeling that you’ve been preparing yourself to break up with me for weeks.”

With the way your silence fills the air, he’s suddenly wondering if this is how you felt on FaceTime the week before. Your silence is the worst kind of murder.

“You want to break up?” you ask, never one to beat around the bush when you don’t want to. You’re more concise than he is, better at putting yours and everyone else’s thoughts into reality.

“No, but I don’t get the sense that either of us are particularly happy.” he admits. For the first time he wonders if the honesty he can exhibit around you is due to your own honesty, and not because he’s simply more comfortable in your presence; he is anything but comfortable now. Your bluntness is salt in the wound.

“So what, you’re leaving?” you ask. “You think that leaving is going to fix us?”

He shakes his head, “I think leaving is better than trying to fix a relationship that is dead in the water.”

You frown. “Dead in the water?”

He hates the way you repeat his words back to him. “It’s the better thing. I don’t like it, trust me, I don’t. But I can’t keep making you cry, and I can’t ask you to move to Milan again.”

For a second there’s a glimmer in your eyes and he thinks you’re about to tell him you’ll move to Italy. He wouldn’t let you, not matter how much it hurt.

“Don’t tell me what the better thing is.” you practically spit.

“Y/N…” he says, watching you stand up.

“I love you.” you tell him. “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you.” he says. “That doesn’t make us right.”

You’re crying. He’s simultaneously horrifyingly guilty and utterly assured that he’s doing the right thing. “Get out of my house.”

Leavin’

You’re just doing that to get even

Don’t pick up the pieces, just leave it for now

They keep fallin’ apart

Your jaw is tight as you watch him put his coat on. He stops at the door. “Y/N,”

“Stop looking at me like that.” you say, a newfound venom in your voice. You open the door for him, showing him out. He starts down the stairs and you find yourself calling out to him.

“Pierre, leaving is the coward’s way out.” you say. You’re angry, beyond angry, but the feeling in your chest is the same kind you get at a funeral, the heaviness of knowing that the inevitable has happened and it’s painful no matter how much you knew to expect it. He only nods, leaving you barefoot in the hall.

Back inside, you book a flight to Milan. It’s surprising how quickly you’d accepted the end of the relationship — perhaps there was some merit in his idea that you’d already broken the connection in your mind. You’re tapping your bank card on the kitchen counter, looking at the notice on your laptop confirming the purchase, and you’re completely and utterly done with him. His silences, and how the only times you ever seemed to talk lately ended in tears.

It’s easy to blame him, you acknowledge, easy to say he’s the issue. You’re not blameless.

Milan is the same constant hub of business it has always been, but its culture gets to you a little more than usual. It seems like every café and every restaurant is one Pierre had showed you, and you’re all the more determined to get the hell out of the city; you only have one stop, his.

It’s the easiest time to do it — you can get all your belongings from his flat and go straight home, not even a day away from home. The walk from the station to his flat is a familiar one, one you’ve walked a thousand times. Without Pierre, it’s easier — you don’t have to stop every five minutes for selfies with a fan, but somehow that gets to you. Perhaps it’s the young-ish fan, a teenager, who looks at you with the curiosity of someone who knows exactly who you are and doesn’t understand why you’re here. She frowns slightly, points you out to her friend, who gasps. As you pass, you hear one of them say; She doesn’t live in Milan though. Why’s she here without him?

When you get to his flat and let yourself in, you allow yourself to check your phone. He’s left a text. I can still see your location, you know. Why are you in Milan? You ignore it, opening up your empty suitcase and starting to make your way around the flat; room by room, you extract your things from his. Meanwhile, your notifications are going into overdrive. These are hardly his first texts — he’d texted and called you from Heathrow telling you he regretted it, and he needed to talk to you the moment he got back from the race — but you’re determined now. If he thought you were so bad for each other, you’d make sure to be gone by the time he got back.

I know you’re getting your things. Please, wait until we can talk about this.

Can I call you?

Mon ange, please answer

I need to talk to you

I fucked up

I love you. I’m in love with you.

Eventually, you cave. You’re sitting in front of your packed suitcase, your key to the flat on his kitchen counter.

“Love?” he answers. It must be late where he is, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“Pierre.”

“I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want you to leave me.” He says, “You’re right, it’s the coward’s way out. We should try, at the very least.”

“Don’t you see, Pierre, I have. I have tried more than ever these past weeks, and, d’you know, when you said what you did I finally understood something. I don’t have the capacity to try any harder — I don’t have the capacity to love you in the way I think you need me to. I don't think you love me the way I need you to either. You were right — more than I’ll ever care to admit — but we can’t drag ourselves through this. Let’s not torture ourselves.”

There’s another long silence. Silences seem to be half the communication between you these days. “I can fix this. I can pick up the pieces, I know it.”

“Pierre, I don’t want you to. Stop trying to pick up the pieces, stop trying to fix us. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is, and I refuse to get in your way. Let’s leave it as it is, and not ruin the memory of us anymore than we already have.”

“I love you.”

“I know, Pierre. I’m sorry we couldn’t love each other right.”

“It’s my fault.”

“Ours. It’s our fault.”

I can’t blame you, no, no

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 9

Chapter 9: Boiling Point

Spy plays a prank he should not have, Scout has a realization, and something goes wrong.

TW: Heavy Angst. We’re at the turning point people

Overall, the last two weeks were a breath of fresh air for Jeremy. New Spy was very aware of his comedy potential, and every time he went into battle he outdid himself.

Something changed on that first Monday after those weeks.

There was this one BLU Scout from the Appalachians, in some hillbilly town or whatever. He had a reputation for talking about the woods like it was a rich person’s house. Talkin about some kind of monsters who ran the forest, who he was Buddy-Buddy with.

So in other words, he was a superstitious nut job that even Demoman didn’t take seriously. He always made a big fuss about how his team acted in the forest -any forest- like they were gonna offend “the owners”.

Jeremy disliked the guy because he also talked smack about “city boys”, and being from Boston he was the main target of that smack-talk. And people called him annoying…

They happened to be stationed in some forest in Colorado when New Spy got to fight this BLU Scout and his team. So that meant BLU Scout was being extra annoying to his team, and Spy noticed fast.

He turned invisible and started following the App Scout around the battlefield, saying spooky stuff like he was a forest ghost getting mad about the teams. And at first, it was really funny listening to BLU Scout try and get along with the ghost. Until it wasn’t.

His team turned off their comm links because they were annoyed with his warnings. And Appie started to panic. Spy stopped saying stuff, but that didn’t help much because BLU thought his team was about to get punished for being in the woods. Jeremy had been following them in case something went wrong, but he’d been expecting an angry breakdown, not fear and crying.

They knew Merasmus was real, but Jeremy had never thought something really lived up in the Appalacians. Now that he had to see the man horrified, it seemed a heck of a lot more believable. For all he knew, there was some kind of forest guardian out there, it wasn’t like he’d been to the Apps!

“Please don kill my team. I know we’re mercenaries, but we ain’t the ones who chose the battlefield. An they ain’t from the forest, nobody ever taught em to respect the ones in charge here. Please don make em disappear, they don know what they’ve done to yer home!”

Spy turned visible to the crying BLU Scout and dropped his weapons. BLU stared at him blankly through his tears. “I am sorry. I did not think this was so serious.” Thankfully, Spy also knew the joke had crossed a line and he wasn’t afraid to try and apologize. But Appie was furious.

Spy got slugged in the jaw and Jeremy had to knock out the BLU enemy to protect him. Scout learned a long time ago that this guy’s underfed lookin body was way stronger than it looked. And he had that anger adrenaline. He grabbed Spy by the arm and ran off before BLU Scout could wake up.

————————

Them boys messed with the Appalachian Scout and his paranoid beliefs. Engineer knew he and the grown teammates should’a warned Spy not to do it, but they were all used to his older self. The one who wouldn’t try the forest spirit prank. But in any case, Spy looked haunted by what he did, and Scout brought him to learn more about the weird mountain beliefs.

Engineer was from Texas, which was a melting pot within a melting pot, dependin on where you lived. He’d met people from that area. He knew enough to talk to the boys.

“Well, not everyone believes in it, but that forest has a strange feelin to it. Eerie, like your bein watched by something that ain’t human. Some of the locals insist that if you’re polite, the supernatural won’t bother you none. Unless it starts whistling at you.”

Yeah, there was a reason why Dell wasn’t superstitious. At least not to most things people believed in. But he did have to wonder if that mountain plain would be a good place to look for Merasmus. He’d have to mention it to the others as a potential lead.

“Anyways, that there BLU Scout has been workin as a merc for years. He oughta know by now that other forests don’t work like the Apps, even if the stories are true. So try not to feel too bad about your little prank buddy. We know you won’t try it again.”

Somehow, that didn’t seem to snap Spy out of his funk. But he forced a smile and a polite thank you anyway.

————————

The only bad thing about the past two weeks was that Scout still had Spy dreams. It was like his mind was twisting itself into a pretzel to try and pretend like he should miss Spy. And these last two weeks, it had been mostly dreams about their time in Teufort prison.

Jeremy almost missed the hanging nightmares, because at least those reminded him why he was so angry at his deadbeat dad. He was never planning to tell the truth the old coward. Not even when they were on death row. And he didn’t say anything or look when Scout got dropped on the gallows.

Maybe it was dumb, but he kind of wished Spy turned to look at him on instinct, lookin all concerned. Instead of not lookin at all. Cause the only people that did look were the drooling, stupid townsfolk celebrating the hanging. Their eyes all hungry, holdin their stupid hanging merch.

Then again, there was a reason Jeremy lengthened the chain on his dog tags. And stopped wearing a shirt to bed. And kept his blanket below his nipples so it wouldn’t touch his neck. He didn’t know what he’d do when it snowed. Ok fine, maybe the dad dreams were better.

This batch of Spy dreams took place when he still had the broken arms. He hated not being able to move like normal, even something as simple as squatting was a bad idea without the whole use of his arms. There was a lot he couldn’t do on his own, and Spy ended up helping him.

To Jeremy, it felt like his dad was just cherry-picking easy things to do for him, to pretend like they were on good terms and he was a good parent. It was gross. It should be gross. And he shouldn’t miss Spy for doing the bare minimum when they were trapped together for months.

About a week before, Scout had dreamt about the first time Spy combed out his hair. He didn’t want to be babied, especially in front of another inmate they didn’t know, but Spy was insisting. Jeremy remembered their argument.

“Spy I don’t need your help, stop it!” “Nonsense, you can’t lift your arms to comb it yourself. And if you get angry enough trying, you’ll break that metal contraption on your back.” Way to have faith. “Shows what you know. I’ve had this haircut my whole life. Trust me, it never gets matted.”

Scout felt Spy hesitate for a second. “How do you know that?” Something about the way Spy asked made Scout feel the same worry as when teachers asked him too many questions about home. So he explained, against his better judgement. “Well, Ma had a lot of little sons and not enough time to comb all our hair. So she had all our hair cut like this so even if we ****ed up combing it, it wouldn't get matted.”

Spy went quiet and stopped combing for a long time, and Jeremy could tell he was staring at the wall because he didn’t feel eyes on him. “Well all the same, I’d rather do this than risk your cast getting broken. These Teufort people either know how to work a taser or fail to tie their shoes, and there’s no in between. I don’t trust them to fix your cast.”

It took Scout waking up for him to realize Spy was judging his Ma for the hair thing. As if he had any right, when he wasn’t there or giving her the money she needed! Besides, Jeremey turned out fine! Yeah he’d never had longer hair and learned to style it, and yeah new Spy’s hair looked really cool, but he was fine.

He- he didn’t want to judge his Ma for anything. She was the one who was there for him, and she had enough ungrateful children already. Even if he did wonder what he’d look like with New Spy’s hairstyle.

This dream on the night of the Appalachian Scout’s freak out was a doozy. It had been real difficult to sleep in the prison bunk with the stress of being hung soon, and the people being weird. But it was even harder for Jeremy because of the metal connector on his cast.

It wasn’t like they set him up with one of those fancy hospital beds for hurt people, it was just a normal bottom bunk. So the metal dug into his spine and the soft skin between his shoulders. He’d wake up from that digging feeling then fall right back to sleep.

But one night about two months in, he woke up and didn’t go right back to sleep. It was hard to crane his neck with the cast, especially lying down, but he saw Spy standing next to the bunk bed ladder on their shared bed. He was facing away into the whole room, with his back to Jeremy’s head. Didn’t even notice he’d woken up.

Naturally, he didn’t feel great about Spy just freaking standing there all night, and he wasn’t moving. So he piped up.

“What are you doing?” He whispered. Spy turned to face him in surprise, and then they heard a heavy thudding noise further in the room. Spy went back to facing into the room and Jeremy heard Joey Murders grumble. What was he doing up? It was the middle of the night.

“I’m an insomniac by nature, and this cheap bunk isn’t helping. So I’ve been practicing good posture.” Seriously? “Do you have to stand at the foot of my bed?” “It’s not the foot if your head is laying over here. And this bunk belongs to both of us, so I’m well within my rights.”

“So let me get this straight; you’ve been standing like a creep at the head of my bed for two months, and you just chose not to tell me?” If Scout didn’t believe that Spy had his ability to fart removed by Medic, he’d be really grossed out by the chances of getting farted on in his sleep with his mouth open. He had too much experience with his brothers pulling similar crap growing up.

“I thought it would only annoy you, and we only own this side of the room. If I were at base, I could just stay up in my smoking room and read, but here I’d bother you and our roommate. Besides, this way if you need help going to the restroom, I’m close.” It bothered Jeremy that Spy wasn’t facing him to talk. And that he didn’t have a great argument for chasing him off. It was quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, Scout. It’s your bunk too.” “Well, uh. Thanks for helping me with crap. At least I’m not super old and peeing all over the place, but still.” “It’s fine. And even if you were old, I’d prefer that over Sniper marking his territory. But you should get some more sleep.”

It took Scout waking up to think about how dumb it was that Spy hadn’t been sleeping, and how obviously he was lying. After Jeremy got his casts off and had a few days to get used to his arms, Spy told him he was going to try to sleep more and stop standing around like a creep. And he did. He started sleeping a lot more.

But then he remembered that Joey Murders was awake that night. And that Spy had been staring off towards his side of the room. It made him stop and think for a moment.

Joey Murders was a civilian serial killer who probably killed some women or people who were not strong enough to win a one on one battle with him. Scout had always assumed that his strange roommate was also on his best behavior in prison but… Murders didn’t have anything to lose. Even in Teufort, the cops had to have found some reason to suspect him.

Maybe he was the kind of guy to attack him and Spy. His old man had been eating with his back turned to Joey when he up and stabbed him. At the time, Jeremy got mad at Spy and said he was getting them in more trouble. But maybe he killed Murders for good reason.

Murders kept trying to sneak up on Scout when he had his arms broken and was fast asleep. So Spy had been staying up and standing in Murders’ way to keep him safe. And he hadn’t figured that out until now.

But Spy also didn’t baby him after he could use his hands again. After he could move his legs into a better angle for kicking Joey’s face into mincemeat. He trusted him to take care of himself. Jeremy sat on his bed feeling a lot of confusing emotions about it, not knowing if he should be angry at Spy, or worried, or missing him more.

The sound of new Spy screaming snapped him out of it.

———————

Something was wrong with new Spy, and the whole team could see it when they arrived at the smoking room. Chairs were overturned and Spy was screaming in French, pacing, and pulling on his hair.

“Vhat’s wrong?” Heavy asked. Spy snapped his head towards the biggest teammate, and they could all see how pale and undead he looked. There was a wildly hateful look in his eye, which only grew as he broke a full bottle of wine on the side table. Purplish red wine spilled on the old wood and rug like blood. Spy gripped the broken bottle like a knife and charged at Heavy.

Medic reacted fast and turned on the Medigun in time to heal Heavy right as Spy stabbed him through his vest, aiming for his heart. Everyone was shocked, so shocked that Spy had time to ignore Medic as an obvious target and glare at Sniper. Thankfully, Heavy was fine and caught new Spy before he got the change to attack again.

For about half a second, they thought Heavy’d be able to hold Spy down with his big arms. But Heavy moved slow, and Spy was hopped up on hatred, adrenaline, and fury. He started kicking almost as fast as Scout could, and shuffled his arms around at full strength. Heavy tried, but it was like trying to carry an angry street cat, and Spy got loose.

Spy jammed his fingers into Demoman’s eye, then when he was still distracted lifted the right blast guard so he could punch him in the nuts. Medic was rushing to help Demoman, but Spy ignored him again; choosing to pick up an armchair and throw it at Pyro’s head. Engineer rushed to help Pyro, and again, Spy ignored a teammate for no apparent reason.

New Spy picked up the glass bottle that he dropped, dodging Heavy as he tried to catch up. Then he went after Sniper with it. Snipes did a good job escaping a backstab and any other fatal attacks, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop Spy. Jeremy noticed that Spy hadn’t targeted him either, so he crossed his fingers and charged in to try something.

He grabbed Spy from behind and lifted him like 3 inches off the ground. Then he started spinning in place to make them both as dizzy as possible. Spy still had the bottle, but didn't actually stab at him with it, so the dizzy trick worked.

Demoman and Engineer each grabbed one of Spy’s arms after Scout let go, trying not to puke. But instead of struggling to free his arms like a normal idiot, Spy twisted his torso and legs to get them off balance, and then pulled on his arms so they’d bump heads and let go.

Soldier finally got the memo to attack their teammate [it was actually good that he didn’t do it on instinct], and grabbed Spy by the throat to strangle him or break his neck. It would be bad if he succeeded, but at least Medic was there, and they were at base. Oh wait, was the respawn machine even on at night? Pauling had a lot money decisions to make and-

Spy choked Soldier right back, apparently at full force because Solly didn’t immediately snap his neck. Then he let go with one hand so he could rip off Soldier’s helmet and started punching him in the face. And he was punching real hard and fast, so fast Solly didn’t have time to react before getting dizzy again.

Sniper and Pyro ran over to try and separate them, but Spy just picked Soldier up and threw him at them like Scout’s idiot brothers cheating at bowling. The problem was Spy was out to kill, and everyone else really didn’t want to hurt him [Soldier did, but that wasn’t news]. Jeremy had a plan though.

”Engie, Medic! Follow my lead!” He ran towards new Spy and grabbed him in a firm hug. Like he expected, Spy wasn’t attacking him. He didn’t attack Engineer or Medic when they also started hugging him, even though Medic was still as creepy as ever.

“Calm down man, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Spy choked out something half-sad half-enraged in French. “Herr Spy, we do not understand what the problem is. And I wish I could say we speak French, but we don’t. Please breathe for a moment and tell us why you are so angry.”

Spy hesitated and started to breathe better, which made him think better too. Some of the color returned to his face and he seemed to break out of whatever hate trance he was in.

“Ze smoking room? We were not.. you three were not..” He looked around at the shaken teammates and Soldier, who was fine somehow. “Oh- Oh God, it wasn’t real, was it?” Spy sank to his knees and the trio took the chance to let go of him, and make room for the others to come over. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry!”

”What happened lad? You lost yourself for a bit.” Nobody was mad, thankfully. They were really more worried than anything. Spy hesitated to answer. “I do not know if I should say. Clearly it was a night terror I should not have believed… But I did.” “I think ya owe us an answer, mate. If yer having nightmares that bad, we gotta know for next time.” Sniper was right. They didn’t; know what set Spy off, or if it would happen again. And new Spy knew it.

“Is this room bugged? With ze same cameras as the rest of ze Base?” He really thought deadbeat Spy would leave cameras around his rooms? Well, to be fair, he didn’t know the guy. “Naw. He wouldn’t leave the Admin’s cameras in heah. Liked his privacy.” So did Sniper, who lived in his van. Helped him avoid the cameras. Spy sighed and held his legs to his chest with his arms.

“Then I will say. And I hope it will not offend you. It was a stupid nightmare, but it felt real.” Spy swallowed hard. “Medic, Engineer and Scout were not there, but we were told ze whole team was soon to die. You did not care at all, and…” It took Spy a while to continue. Nobody bugged him about it, clearly he was worried about cameras for a reason. When Spy did look up and start talking again, he was on the verge of tears.

”And my.. my two year old son was there with you. You had convinced him that death was.. fun. He was saying things that were not good, not health-ful.” Nobody knew what to say to that. Jeremy really wanted to say something nice, but he didn’t have words. Why the Hell was he having nightmares like that?! Nobody on the team was crazy enough to hurt a baby like that, not even Medic and Pyro! New Spy sobbed, surrounded by the broken glass and spilled wine and hurt teammates. “I thought it was real. I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry, you are very nice people!” Without thinking, Jermey found himself getting on the floor with Spy and hugging him. He didn’t really do hugs that often. He hugged Pauling when she turned out to be okay on Grey Mann’s island. And sometimes he hugged Ma.

His brothers thought hugging another guy was weak behavior, even if it was with another brother. And even though he didn’t agree with them, their stupid judgement stopped him from being a hugger a long time ago. But not this time. And he figured he was right, because Spy leaned into him and kept crying.

Somehow, he didn’t feel like a man beating people up and then crying was weak behavior at all. Especially if it’s for his kid’s sake.

———————-

Medic was right about that de-aging curse. It was probably meant to make Soldier hurt or scare Zhanna when confronted with something he didn’t remember.

They knew part of the nightmare had to do with the last wishes, the not caring about death thing that made grown Spy colder to the team. But not the baby being in danger. They didn’t know what triggered that idea. And they sure as Hell didn’t like it.

They were gonna tear Appalachia apart if they had to, that stupid wizard needed to pay. And Spy needed to be turned back into his normal self before he had another cursed episode.

Engineer told them about the possible lead and they sent a message to Pauling the next morning.

[tmwcs]

Hey! Its my first time sending an ask hehe~ I just wanted to say that you’re such an amazing writer and your series are just sooooo good!!! 😍😍😍 I started getting into your account when I came across the smau for MRE and HHP and I gotta say, you got me hooked so bad onto Heethan that I end up loving all your Hee-leads so far! I’m so invested in HHP, SE7EN, DT and now TO! I’m honestly so excited to read a new chapter everytime you post hahaha! 🤭🤭

The main reason I wanted to send you this is cuz I’ve been having super stressful and bad days these past few days and its mainly cuz its my final year in college, final semester and final week actually 😅 and there’s just like sooo many final preparations needed to be done for my big final year project (having my big presentation today! soooo nervous) and its just been too much and too overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother anyone with my anxiousness so I’ve been keeping it all to myself and having slight panic attacks and just started having random breakdowns as I complete my assignments. Reading your series, whether its new chapters or just rereading older ones have given me comfort, like I really felt alone but its like Heethan, Heelel and the Heebros have become my comfort characters. It’s just been so overwhelming for me and I didn’t wanna bother my family with it, I only have one other friend that I trust with my whole life but rarely see her, we’re all busy and I just felt like I’m falling behind in everything. Even though the Hee-leads might be like crazy obsessed with the reader, its like I really needed them in my life just to have someone to drop everything just to hold and comfort me anytime life becomes too much for me. I’m actually crying while writing this to you hahaha… it just feels like everyone around me is moving so fast and I’m stuck at the back picking myself up just because I feel so overwhelmed and anxious easily. Turning 20 this year is another thing that has me feeling afraid of adulthood, my mum is pressuring me into getting a job immediately once I graduate but I just feel like I’m not ready, or I’m just not ready to give up my teenage freedom and socialise professionally. Being such an introvert and shy and always thinking I’m just dumb and cant do work without help has been holding me back from wanting to grow and enjoy this new chapter in life.

So sorry for this long ass rant but i just really needed to let you know how much your stories, your Hee-leads have been keeping me going. Excited for the next chapters of your series! Hope you’re having a great day❣️

Omg so....I LOVE THIS.....this is so heartwarming and thank you for sharing it with me. Also, thank you for discovering my blog so you can write this to me, bc as you may have figured, receiving asks are just....its so nice. its a nice and wonderful surprise to hear from readers interesting in my work, wanting to know more about the characters and so forth. I am just beyond touched that heethan, heelel, and heebrows have made their way into your heart and to provide you comfort. in fact, reading your message had reminded me of a piece that i had started to draft (it was originally supposed to be a part of one of the HHP chapters but i never went through with it) but i still had it in my folders so after i finished reading your message, I decided to go back and actually finish it and format it specifically for you as y/n. I hope you like it. <3

Heeseung's Message.....

MDNI18+ content below the line.

Warnings: mentions of losing loved ones, fears and worries about the future, smut, car smut, unprotected smut, some....just some sadness....its a very heartwarming and touching piece.

"What's wrong baby?"

Noting how silent you were in the car, right after he picked you up, Heeseung rubbed your thigh, gently shifting your skirt upwards as he softly slid his hand up and down, enveloping you with warmth and comfort. "Something on your mind pretty baby?"

Placing your hand on his, you grabbed hold semi-tightly, keeping your gaze out at the window. You were hesitant at first, noting that Heeseung had a busy schedule of his own, was on his way of finishing his last year in college, aiding his professors, and of course, there was you....picking you up from classes, dropping you off every morning, taking you wherever you needed to go. You appreciated it but the man had completely devoted his time to everything else, you felt it selfish to bring any matters up to him....feeling that whatever time he did have left within the evening, he should at least have it for himself.

"It's nothing." You sighed out.

Glancing over to you, he furrowed his brows and quickly shifted the wheel, stirring the car over to a nearby parking lot on one of the campus buildings.

"What are you....?" raising up in your seat, you looked around before turning your gaze over to Heeseung, who steered the wheel with one hand and in a smooth motion, parked the car. Unbuckling his seatbelt, his gaze meets with yours before he reaches up and places his hand behind your head, softly grabbing onto your hair as he leans in and rests his forehead against yours.

"Whats wrong? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you? I wanna know. Tell me, y/n."

His eyes were wide and his expression was fierce with rage, however, before he further ventured off into a spiraling path of unhinged presumptions, you reached up and latched your fingers onto his collar, placing a dainty kiss on his lips. "Its not that....I promise nothing like that happened."

Raising his brows and tilting his head, he releases the gentle grip he had on your hair, and replaced it with a soft, petting motion. "Then why are you being so quiet? You seem upset, what is it?"

Looking down at the console for just a second, you raise your sights once more to meet his and began talking.

".....Are you ever scared about the future, Heeseung?"

His face was taken slightly aback as he raised both brows and looked at you with an intent look.

"Is that what this is about? Are you feeling overwhelmed about moving?"

Shaking your head, you looked down once more as you shyly clarified. "Nooo.....its not just that....its more..."

"Like what baby?"

"Like....after the moving.....finishing college, being in an unfamiliar country, not knowing anybody, making new friends, meeting your family, being apart from mine, learning a new language, finding a job after college, and what if I have to do more college? Or ...." pausing, you caught yourself drifting in verbal thought.

"Or....?" He draws out as he bids you to finish your statement.

"Or........what if....what if something happens and we........you know.....what if we just...."

Squinting his eyes slightly, his expression looked a little irked as he rolled his tongue in his mouth. "That's never going to happen y/n. You know that."

"Yeah but....."

"But what?" Slightly annoyed, he closed his eyes for a second, tilted his chin down, and lifted his lids to expose a rather stern and rather angry look. Yet the moment he saw that your eyes began to glisten, shining like diamonds as the tears started to build up, you looked down once more, unable to look him square in the eye as you felt the first tear break free and drip down on the leather padding of the console.

Watching as you faintly sobbed, he nearly felt his heart break into two. He gasped out a faint breath as he reached over with his other hand and cupped your face, no longer expressing a look of annoyance.

"Hey......why? What's making you think that way? Am I not showing you enough love? You know whatever it is you want, all you have to do is tell me and I'll make it happen."

"Its not that i just........there's just some things we can't predict about the future Heeseung......what if some day......what if you stop loving me......or worse.....what if something happens and I no longer have you? What if....just.......you never know.....is it wrong for me to hope for the best, but expect the worse? Because...you know that life can be so unfair some times....and I....I....I'm scared because....I dont even know....what I'm scared of sometimes. I wake up every single morning not even knowing how to live life because there's so many things that I think about....so many things that are thrown at me all at once and I just.....I feel like sometimes......I might fail......I feel like sometimes.....I will let you down.......I feel like its not the world, its me.........its me that's broken, not you or anyone else."

You gasped out tears and soft cries as you spoke straight from the heart. For the first time, Heeseung had sincerely considered if going to Korea was the best option, at least just for a second before he reminded himself of the future that he had waiting for him.....a future that would allow him to continue to keep you....safe....and with him.

Shifting his sights around on the floor bed of the car, his thumbs stroke your cheeks, wiping away the continuous flow of tears that were now coming down harder than before. Gulping down a hard swallow, he turns back to face you.

"Baby.........look at me....please look at me."

Looking up into his gaze, your eyes red, swollen, with eyelashes drenched and your face stained with wet trails of all your fears leaving their mark. With a soft smile, he calmly speaks.

"You're right.....that is tough. There's a lot that we can't control in the future....its precarious, and we're literally just pawns on the board of this silly game called life, where God and the universe are taking turns making each move. It can be cruel, unfair, and tormenting. Its something that we can either overcome with great strife and hard work."

"But what happens if we work so hard and it.....it just doesnt work out? What if everything just falls apart Heeseung?"

"We wont know unless it happens y/n......the thing about the future, as much as we want it here in the present, so we can see and view what it has in store for us, thats....just not the way it works. That's not the way we work....we're not designed to know those things. We didn't become strong because we cheated, we became strong and survived because we, as humans, learned....the hard way."

Looking into his eyes, your vision started to become blurry all over as the next set of tears built up. Smiling as he continued to wipe your tears away, he continues.

"Y/n....for thousands of years, people have fallen, lost, and suffered at the creativity of the universe. Yet we never gave up......people had an urge to survive. Which is why at times, even when the entire world was on fire, times where a soldier never comes home, a woman loses her child, or when a doctor just doesnt have a cure.....we keep moving....we get back up and learn how to walk again. I can't sit here and tell you that I know that everything is going to be great.....I dont know. But what I do know.....is this...."

Shifting his hands down to your waist, he lifts you with his core strength as his abdominal muscles flexed under his shirt. Bringing you over onto his lap, he sat you down in a princess style as he cradled you against his chest.

"No matter what happens....I'm going to be there. I'm going to be there and I'm going to help you, just like you're going to help me. I'll never let anything happen to you....and.....you never have to worry about me not loving you .....noooooooo pretty baby......that's never going to happen, not loving you would be the worst offense against Heaven and humanity. As far as if anything were to happen to me...."

The moment Heeseung touched on that part of the subject, you sobbed uncontrollably against his neck.

"Heeeeeey, come on now. Nothing's even happen, why are you acting like that's a for sure thing?" he chuckles out as he kisses your forehead. "Listen..." Taking your hand in his, he continues.

"I'm not going anywhere......I'm not. I know this because I know what is living for me......you. I will never abandon you. Even if something did happen, you know i'm always going to be with you. You know how?"

Shaking your head, he brushes your hair away from your face.

"Moments like this baby. Every time we talk, touch, feel each other, love, eat, sleep, kiss, and when I fuck your brains out...." gripping onto your waist tightly, he presses his forehead against your own once more. "All the things we do, they never leave. So.......if there is ever a time where I am not physically here......you're always going to remember how i feel..." gliding his hand from your waist, he reaches down and gently trails it upwards under your skirt, his fingers reaching into your panties.

"You're going to remember my touch..." kissing your neck, he latches his mouth onto your soft spot under your ear, and rings the tip of his tongue around in slow circular motions.

"You're going to remember my scent...." with his free hand, he reaches behind your head and gently pushes your face inward, causing your nose to become burrowed in his thatch of dark long, shaggy hair, inhaling the scent of his cool-mint cologne and his shampoo.

"You'll also remember what I taste like...." placing a soft peck on the spot he was sucking on, he tilts his head up slightly and brings your head down to kiss him.

"And best of all......pretty baby.......you're going to remember what it feels like when I fuck you......when I love you." Shifting your body to face forward, your back completely spooned by his chest and groin as you both remained seated in the drivers side, he spreads your legs open by pushing our inner thighs apart. You were so caught up with the sensual four play, you hadn't realized that he tore off your panties. Unbuttoning your blouse, exposing your breasts, he shifts you up as he levels his length to align with your slit, before proceeding to enter inside you. Feeling full of his flesh, you moaned out as the overwhelming sense of pleasure hits you........taking you away from the abysmal depths of your fears and worries.

Steadying you in a reverse cowgirl position, filing you, his cock melts inside you as he begins thrusting slow and steady, picking up the pace as your walls become more moist.

"You feel me pretty baby?"

"Y-yes!"

"Yeah? You gonna remember me forever?"

"Y-yes...yes! He-Heeseung!"

"You gonna remember what this feels like?"

"Yes!"

"What does it feel like baby? Tell me."

"F-f......fe-feels......ssss......goood......soo....soo.goood....ugh!"

"Harder or faster baby?"

"ugh! both! please both!"

Thrusting repeatedly, your body falls limp as he holds you upright, with one arm wrapped around your waist, and his other hand shifting a grip between your neck and your exposed breast, he muffles your moans and screams with his mouth as he swallows every single bit of your precious tones.

"Gonna cum for me?"

"Y-ye.....yes!...yes.......ugh! He-Heeseung!"

"Yeah? You gonna cum because you're a good girl?"

"Mmm!mmmmmm....mmmhmmm!....ugh!"

"You my good girl?"

"Y....yes!!"

"Yeah you are.......now fucking cum on me. Let me feel it."

Adding more depth to each thrust, you gasped out your screams of pleasure as he rams his cock deep inside, separating new found walls and extracting the moisture out of your body. Reaching orgasm and releasing all over his member, your thighs shake relentlessly.

"Good girl.....my turn."

Cupping your lower tummy, he pushes in and feels his thick length as it slides in and out, he found it amusing how your sensitive body could take him like this, especially feeling it inside you as he was doing right now. Jacking his member deep inside you at a rapid and hard momentum, he finally reaches his moment and with one last punctured thrust, he bucks his hips upward as he shoves you down, mashing your bodies together as he releases inside and fills your body up.

Pulling your head back as he latches his mouth on your neck yet again, suckling as your body bounces rigorously from the tenacity of his performance.

Feeling the pleasure of his tainted love, you somehow were to understand his message clearly, all due to Heeseung extracting you from your fears......which he had done before, back when Samuel sent you his email......back when you and Heeseung came together for the first time.....the start of your guys story. Just as he did back then, he helped you to understand, that the reality of what life gives, is never necessarily the ending to your story. The more he kept pumping into you, the more you were reminded of that clarity. Yea sure, you still felt scared, but knowing that if at first you dont succeed....reach happiness.....or if things just dont work out, you can and should always, try-try again. A lesson you were always reminded of, all thanks to Heethan.

Authors note: Lol, sooooooo...yeah this original draft did have some smut....and i was going to take it out but it was too crucial for me to do so. I hope you dont mind that. But, this chapter was originally drafted, back a few months ago. I had this thought in my head, since I have only taken a few college courses, and am about to start back up on it, I was feeling so dreadful and felt too nervous about doing well. I want to succeed in reaching my educational goals....but what also kind of bugged me was....will i still find time to write? I love writing, truly do. Mainly because it brings other people joy and brings out their most inner feelings. I had so much on my mind that time that i had began drafting this, but as i was writing it, i left it unfinished bc honestly, when i drafted heethan's message.....literally its like his voice was telling me what to write....i felt better. like it was a nice little reminder....realistic...very rational....and honest...but still positive and holds truth. there's a lot of things we can't control, but we should never give up. Its okay to be scared and to worry, that's natural, and that is exactly why people such as myself are here, writing these chapters and stories for you all because i know that there is such a thing called 'life' and sometimes....we just need a break from it to refresh ourselves. I know you have alot on your plate, but dont worry because everything will be more than fine. We have to pace ourselves, work hard, but also rest, and play from time to time. Eat and drink well, and finish strong. finish college, work with your mother and teach her to work with you, if you dont get the job you really want, no big deal. no matter what job you get, if its one you dont want, nothing lasts forever. just think that whatever you do now, it is only making you more marketable for the dream goal you have. I hope you continue strong because while you do have alot on your plate, you've been slaying....you've been killing it! and that's a major accomplishment in itself, last of year of college? woohoo! finish strong!

So now i should apologize for responding with the longest post ever lol. but i really hope this makes you feel better. Reading your message had reminded me of this piece and i am so glad you sent it to me because....looking at it now...and actually finishing it......this was something that was meant to be published and shared. bc it holds an important message for all of us. <3

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi Cas! It's Internet Stranger anon, idk if you remember me, it's been a month since I haven't sent an ask

For a very (not) quick update on my bsf/crush, we're dating now! (yay) we went to see fireworks together at the very end of the summer vacations, we were holding hands during the fireworks and I was leaning my head against her shoulder and she had her arm around me (i'm not even making this shit up i was having an internal mental breakdown while that happened)(but it was so romantic)

After the fireworks we were both like "we have to adress this" so we did and we officially started dating through my notes app bcs we were in the car with my parents driving her back and we couldn't speak out loud (i'm closeted) so we just passed the phone to each other and now we're dating! and I'm so happy about it :)))

Tho we are a secret and none of our friends know which is kinda bothering me, but i respect her decision yk. It's not my place to out our relationship when she doesn't want to and it's so new, and she said she'd tell our close friend eventually. It just kinda hurts because sometimes I just want her attention sooo bad and she ignores me because she doesn't want to make it obvious that we're dating. And my mental health is the lowest it's been in a long time rn, but at the same time it's not her job to give me attention 24/7 like I'm a toddler so I feel bad for crying about stuff as stupid as her not sitting next to me in maths like she used to (it's so silly i'm so ashamed that i cried in class abt it) :((

Sorry that was a very long rant, I hope you have a great day/night and life in general ♡

Hi!!! Congratulations!!

I love that you recognize your girlfriend doesn’t own your emotions and I also love that you’re being patient with her. However, it’s completely valid for you to eventually want an out relationship and many queer people do have that as a boundary. It’s okay and valid for you to tell her that you don’t want to hide your relationship in front of safe people. IMO, that’s not forcing her to come out, it’s telling her that if she wants to date you, you want to be able to be open in front of people who accept you. She can then choose not to date you if she’s not comfortable with that. You could also decide that you would rather date her and not be out at all and that’s equally valid. Just know that you ARE allowed to share your emotions and needs, as long as you aren’t forcing anyone to do anything ❤️

[sunkissedandseraphic]

My Guardian Angel is Crying: Chapter 4

Story Summary: When Rick and Michonne watched Judith walk onto the school bus, calling out a small "I love you!" before the doors closed behind her, they smiled, knowing their family had welcomed another good day. But merely hours later, they receive a call that shatters their world: while going back to the classroom after their time on the playground, someone had managed to kidnap Judith, and there was no trace of who took her and where she was now. Desperate to find their little girl, Rick and Michonne were determined to get to the bottom of this, even if that meant supporting each other and their son in the midst of their own breakdowns. They had to find her, because if they didn't, they'd crumble into pieces too small to put back together

Chapter Summary: Three days have passed since Judith was reported missing, and all three Grimes were dealing with it in their own ways; some nights, however, were too much for one particular person to handle alone

Warnings: nightmares, brief mention of a character skipping meals, past character death/child death, talks of past car accidents

Three grueling days had passed since Judith had gone missing, and much to the family’s dismay, they had not received a thing that would help them find her.

Given that King County was a small town where word spread like wildfire, the local news stations and sheriff’s department were giving updates on the case consistently, but it didn’t matter; there had been no sightings, no credit card pings from either Lori or Shane, and nobody had information on where any of them could possibly be.

Forced to spend three days with this heaviness hanging over them, the Grimes family was struggling.

Carl had shut down the moment he found out, and nobody could get through to him. When he was home, he would hide away in his room. Rick and Michonne had no idea what Carl did up there all those hours, though their efforts to make sure it wouldn’t be anything unsafe were likely in vain. Michonne would find his lunchbox in his backpack completely full, all the food she had packed him untouched, and when she would beg her son to come downstairs and have dinner, Carl did so without saying a word. Hell, the couple didn’t know if they’d heard the boy say anything since they told him. 

After a silent meal between Carl and Michonne, he would excuse himself and retreat back to his room. At night, when Rick would come home from work after everyone had gone to bed, he would quietly open Carl’s bedroom door to check on him and find the teen had cried himself to sleep whilst clutching the stuffed dog– or as Judith creatively named him: Dog– he had bought for his sister’s first birthday. 

Rick and Michonne would do anything for Judith to come home so she would be safe, but also just to hear the sound of Carl’s voice again. To see his eyes light up. To see him smile. To see him as anything but numb and hopeless. 

In usual “like father, like son” fashion, Rick followed suit in turning to isolationism to try and find a way to cope with it all. He would leave the house far before sunrise and start his shift hours before he was scheduled, and he would stay until Deanna stormed in and threatened to drag him home herself long after nightfall. Rick buried himself under a mountain of work, convinced if he gave everything he had into this case he would crack it.

He needed to fix this. His baby was missing and Rick knew it was his fault. He couldn’t keep her safe; a father’s job is to protect his kid, and he failed. If he could work hard enough, maybe he could find Judith. It wasn’t his case, it wasn’t even truly his department, but that didn’t matter, it was his daughter’s life on the line. 

Rick had failed his Judy, he had failed his family, and going home every day where he was only greeted by silence and heartache made him realize how horrible he was for letting this happen. So, he’d stay at the station and pray he could fix this. He had to. 

Michonne, however, had been hit the hardest. She had been here before, feeling the same dread swell inside her chest just as it did all those years ago when she lost her Andre.

The nightmares that once plagued her made their return much to her dismay. She was forced to remember receiving the phone call that shifted her entire world, to remember how totaled the car had been, to remember fainting the moment she saw her peanut and her boyfriend covered by white sheets; all these visions haunted her again, just as strong as ever.

The first night when Michonne awoke, sweat beading on her forehead as she fought for breath, she turned to see Rick undisturbed beside her. She took a minute to collect herself before carefully untangling her legs from the blankets and stepping onto the cold hardwood beneath. Michonne needed air. She felt trapped in this room, in her mind, and she needed to get out.

It was the sound of crying that woke Rick up barely twenty minutes later. When he saw Michonne’s side of the bed empty, he rolled over to find her sitting on their bay window seat, knees pressed against her chest, and failing to muffle her weeps, he was out of bed and by her side within seconds. Since then, Rick would coax her out of her dreams every night and hold her during the aftermath, and tonight was no different. 

He had been home from work barely an hour and was on the brink of sleep when he started to feel Michonne’s leg twitch. Rick was instantly alert, sitting up to place his hand on his wife’s trembling shoulder as soft whimpers escaped her lips. “Michonne, sweetheart, I need you to wake up,” His voice was hoarse, strained with exhaustion, but the pain that pierced his chest from watching this unfold for the fourth night in a row overpowered the urge to drift off.  

Despite his efforts, Michonne’s only response was muttered pleas, gasping her son’s name as tears fell slowly down her cheeks. Her face twisted in agony, and Rick felt powerless. Still, he leaned down to her ear, hoping his silent comforts would reach her through her dreams. 

“Come on, ‘Chonne, you’re safe, I’m right here,” Rick kept going for what seemed like hours, refusing to let up until Michonne was free from her twisted nightmare. A few moments passed before her eyes suddenly sprung open, much to Rick’s relief, and forced out a shuddered breath as Michonne tried to ground herself.

“There you are,” Rick smiled warmly at her, his hand stroking the back of her hair. He helped her slowly sit up, adjusting the pillows so she could lean against them. Michonne situated herself under the crook of her husband’s arm as she caught her breath, while his calloused hands gently wiped the tears from her eyes. “You were dreaming again, crying out in your sleep,”

Michonne only nodded, having sadly gotten used to this new nightly routine the two created. When she was unable to bring herself to form any other kind of response, Rick pressed a gentle kiss to her temple and tightened his hold. “Do you want to talk about it?” The question was simple and he knew what to expect: Michonne would shake her head, Rick would leave for the kitchen to make her a small mug of tea in hopes to ease the leftover adrenaline and anxiety, and he would bundle her up in his arms until she was asleep once more. 

Tonight, though, he had received a much different answer.

Rather than brushing it off, his simple, careful words caused the floodgates to swing open. Michonne broke down. She shifted so that her head was buried into Rick’s shoulder as she choked out a broken sob, feeling the walls she had built fall around her. The response caught Rick off guard, but he didn’t hesitate to envelop her in the tightest hug he could muster, pulling her as close as possible. 

Soft hushes met Michonne’s ears as she crumpled, and the sway of being rocked back and forth just slightly calmed Michonne’s racing heart. Though she struggled to contain all the unburied pain that bubbled over, she managed to somehow find a sense of safety in Rick’s arms. 

The couple stayed like that until Michonne’s tear tracks slowly dried, and all that was left of her wails were just occasional sniffles and shaky inhales. Neither said anything at first, but, with her head still hidden in Rick’s neck, Michonne muttered something that made her husband’s stomach churn.

“I feel like I’m cursed,”

Rick’s grip loosened as Michonne pulled out of the embrace, meeting his gaze with a look of pure heartache. As much as he urged to quickly dismiss whatever made her believe something like that, he remained silent, waiting for her to continue and get out what she had been holding back since this whole shitstorm began. “When… When I lost Andre, I felt like I failed him.” Michonne spoke slowly, every word leaving her mouth with a taste of acid. She never liked to talk about Andre. Of course, Rick knew about him– it had taken witnessing Michonne spiral after Rick and the kids had gotten in a minor accident for that conversation to occur– but Michonne kept the memories of her son close to her chest. “I was his mother, I was supposed to do everything I could to keep him safe, and I didn’t. Then with Judith and Carl, I felt like… like this was the world giving me another chance; a chance to do what I couldn’t do for my son. And now? Judith is somewhere out there with those people because I couldn’t protect her! I-I should have kept her safe, but I didn’t, and it… it’s my fault!”

Nausea rose in Rick’s throat as he listened to Michonne’s confession, watching as she looked away in shame. He hated that she had been housing these feelings, hating that he couldn’t have known. “Michonne, look at me,” Rick said sternly, cupping Michonne’s cheek and turning her head towards him. He had to make sure she heard him and believed him, every word.

“You did everything in your power for Andre, and what happened to him was not your fault; never in a million years would it ever be your fault. In the four years you’ve been in our lives, you have done more for Carl and Judith than Lori ever did and would ever dream of doing. They love you more than I think is fathomable. You are the perfect mother for these kids, ‘Chonne, they need you,”

The words struck Michonne deeply, and this time when she cried, for the first time in a very long time, it was out of joy; out of pure, wonderful relief and comfort and joy. Rick left a trail of kisses starting from her head down to her shoulder, wanting his love to tune out any remaining doubts lingering in her mind. “It’s not your fault, love, it’s not your fault,”

And for once, as her husband’s husky voice lulled her eyes to slowly droop down, Michonne genuinely believed those words. 

[haemosexuality]

about my tav, phynn (who is kind of a self insert):

phynn is a drow that was born in the underdark and raised by a lolth sworn family. after trying several times, she successfully escaped her city when she was 76. since then, she has been moving around a lot- living in areas of the underdark that are very near the surface and dont have many drows (she doesnt mind the deep gnomes and duergar), but mainly in the outskirts of surface cities, including of course Baldur's Gate. it took her almost a decade to get used to the sun

she is a thief, and a very good one. shes had odd jobs here and there but she makes most of her outcome by straight up stealing whatever she can find and then selling it. when shes in big, rich cities like Baldur's Gate, she does a looot of burglary. breaking and entering is like her favorite hobby. she also had to get very good at fighting, both bc of the whole drow thing and bc of all the criminaling

by the start of the game, shes 183 years old, having been living in and around the surface for just over 100 years. in a human au she would be like 24

PERSONALITY AND OTHER FACTS:

her morals are contradicting and alll over the fucking place. that is because i am not good at role-playing and will just do whatever the fuck but in universe is because she was raised by very hardcore lolth worshippers and then spent the next century mostly by herself and getting by by stealing. not a lot of time for things like developing a well established and stable moral code. id say shes chaotic neutral, but with a good heart?

her journey throughout the game at first made her better, she tried to be a good person, and then made her worse because that is a lot of horrible things that happened to her and all her new friends and she is this close to snapping and having a breakdown. also shes killed more people in the last like 4 months than she has in a whole century and that will for sure change a person for the worst. shes become very apathetic and just so goddamn Tired. she didnt sign up for saving the whole world she just wanted this damn tadpole out of her head so she could continue to sell stolen jewelry!!! fucks sake!!

as part of her total off the rails mental breakdown she also became a chronic kleptomaniac. she was a thief before sure but that was just like, her job for her, now its a real compulsion. her raiding everything and everyone she sees and its starting to worry the other companions. this is inspired by me going to GREAT lengths and doing everything i can to steal literally everything i see until i realized i really didnt need to be doing that i have so many shit in my inventory and like 30 thousand gold. then i started feeling bad for these fictional npcs that are not real people and are not important to the story whatsoever because everyone here is so poor i dont need to be stealing but i truly cannot stop. normal behavior

she actually misses some aspects of the underdark. she liked how pretty (and less sunny) it was, and the food. shes not lolth sword but shes not seldarine either, she just kind of doesn't care. obviously shes not a fan of drow culture, but she still gets pretty pissed when surface ppl start talking shit

she is a rogue! she also has some levels of fighter but i just got that for gameplay reasons.

shes dating karlach in denial she doesnt know if she wants to try to convince her to go to hell so she can live, or just accept her wish to let her die. this is inspired by me crying real life tears over this fucking character. also astarion is her bestie they gossip together

not much else to say about her personality shes literally just me if i was given free will to be chaotic insane and kill people

uhm when she met astarion she didnt realize he was a vampire at ALL she assumed he was an albino drow. he ran with it until she woke up to him almost biting her while she slept (canon game event). this is inspired by a comic i saw

APPEARANCE:

eyes: because she was born to a lolth sworn mother her eyes are naturally red. i also gave her cat pupils because that looks cool to me it makes sense that drows would have pupils that can better adjust to lack of/light like that i mean they live underground!! because she is me tho she cant see shit. she used to have glasses but they got lost early in the game in a battle to which she was just blind as fuck and had to be babysat by the other companions. that lasted less than a tenday (dnd week) tho because:

her right eye got Volo'd, and the glass eye volo gives us to replace the one he plucked out is Magic, and not nearsighted! she started covering her left eye with an eyepatch since, because having one eye that can see perfectly and one that cant is awful and confusing. when she doesnt wear the eyepatch, her left eye is always squinting

the glass eye has round pupils, so her pupils are different now too!

she dyes her hair different colors. with the power of Magic and Fantasy Hair Dye. tho her natural hair color is ofc white

has vampire bite scars from astarion. they have an agreement going on where he can feed off of her every few days. people are baffled that its not sexual (astarions traumatized ass included)

she bandages her chest because i cant imagine a worst curse than having to run around and fight and climb mountains with a large chest