#and they are not only saying that they have zero records of ever giving me this medicine that i’ve been on since last year

[dawnquafam]

.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Autographs

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re the social media manager for AFC Richmond’s socials. You’ve been seeing a trend of asking players for their autograph so you decided to try it out with your team.

Ted Lasso Masterlist

You hold your phone up as you peek into the locker room. All of the boys are dressed so you enter with a grin on your face. You keep a stack of papers close to your chest as you quickly head into Coach Beard's office.

"Hey, coach, training doesn't start for another thirty minutes, right?"

Beard checks his watch and nods, "Affirmative."

You nod, "Cool. I'm going to film some content for the socials then," you turn to Roy, starting with you. You press record and hold out a picture to him, "Can I get your autograph, coach?"

"Fucking hell," Roy grumbles as he sees a younger version of himself staring back at him, "Where the fuck did you find this?"

"Did some digging. Love the curls, by the way," you hold out a marker and Roy glares at you. He still scribbles out his name on the photo, handing it back to you, "There. Now fuck off."

You snicker, "Thanks a bunch!"

You exit the office and zero in on your boyfriend, Jamie. You waltz right up to him with giddiness. He smiles up at you as he finishes lacing up his boots. He stands and pecks your lips, "What's with the look, babes?"

You hold out a picture of a small Jamie posing on a pitch, "Can I have your autograph?"

His brows shoot up in surprise, "No fuckin' way. Where'd you find this?"

"I asked your mom to send me a pic of when you were little."

He chuckles, "Look at me. A sexy lil thing, aren't I?" You snort and hand him the marker. He signs his name and draws a heart, writing his initials and yours inside it. He caps the marker and hands it back to you along with the picture, "There ya go, babes."

"I'll cherish it forever."

You look down at your next photo and go up to Sam, who gives you a polite grin, "Good afternoon, Y/N!"

"Hi, Sam! Can I get your autograph?"

"Of course!" you hand him a picture of when he was a young teen and he laughs, "Oh my."

Jamie, who decided to follow you, reaches for the picture, "Aw look at you, Sammy boy!" Jamie shows all the boys Sam's picture and Sam bashfully chuckles.

"Alright, give it here, Jamie!" Sam swipes it back and signs his name. When he gives it back to you, he asks, "Where did you find this picture?"

"I scrolled through your old Facebook photos."

Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I knew I should've deleted those."

The next person you go up to is Colin. He's a small skinny thing, donning his primary school uniform, smiling widely.

Colin looks up at you in disbelief, "Did you reach out to my parents for this?"

You give a nonchalant shrug, "Maybe."

Each interaction with the boys went this way. Each one was surprised to see a picture of a younger version of them being handed to them. The surrounding players hollering and teasing each other for how they looked back then.

Jamie stood beside you the entire time, watching each interaction and just hanging around you. How could he not? He's always drawn to your presence. Not only that, he just adores how well you get along with the guys. You're sweet and funny, which makes it easy for them to say "yes" to whatever kind of video you want to film for the team's socials. You're very good at your job.

After all the photos are signed, you set them out so everyone can see. You stand back, watching the boys mess around with each other. You're already uploading the videos to your dropbox so you can edit them all together on your work computer.

Jamie wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple, "Must be nice getting paid to make fun of footballers," he says with a smirk.

You giggle, "So fun! Seriously so glad Keeley hired me on! Probably the most fun I've ever had in any job!"

"Also probably the best job ever since you get to hang around your hot footballer boyfriend too, yeah?" He gives you a playfully nudge.

You snort, turning to completely face him, your arms hooking behind his neck, "Oh absolutely," you lean in to kiss him but Roy steps in, pushing you two away from each other, "Get a room, you disgustingly cute little shits."

You look at each other confused, but then shrugged as Roy yelled, "Whistle! WHISTLE!" The gaggle of football players quiet and you quickly wave at Jamie. You blow a kiss at him and mouth, "I'll see you later."

He blows you a kiss back and waves, earning him a slap on the head from Roy.

"Oi! What the hell, gramps?"

"Pay attention!" Roy grumbles and turns his attention back to the rest of the players, ready to prepare them for today's training.

[canthelpit0]

Acrylics

Pairing: sub!billie x dom!famous!reader

Wordcount: 2.1k

Summary: you and your best friend somehow ended up in a position where you’re making out. Billie wants to take the lead, but there isn’t much she can do in bed with her long acrylic nails.

Warnings: wlw , smut, tall!reader, both are 18, use of y/n, begging, pet names (princess, baby), bottom!billie, sub!billie, top!reader, Billie gets head, fingering, singer!reader

It’s 2020. Billie’s hair is ever so black, her roots a bright neon green since she just got her dye renewed recently. Her eyes are ever so grey blue, piercing through your soul.

Billie had gone to get her nails done yesterday. Those ridiculously long nails. For some reason them being neon green, “to match the vibe” she’d said.

Too bad. Now Billie kind of regrets having acrylics at all.

She’s clawing at your shirt, pulling you in. Her hands roam all over you. She moves her hand from clinging to your shirt to trailing her hand up your collarbone, to the back of your neck. She tilts her head. The simple touch of your hands on her hips makes her want to melt.

Both of you are barely 18, you’re practically still teens, horny teens at that.

Between kisses you mumble into Billie’s mouth. “Jump.” And so, Billie did. You of course caught her and proceeded to carry her to the bed, all while not breaking the kiss.

This is new, to Billie at least. sure shes kissed girls before (just you), But she thought it was just normal for girls to kiss. “Just to practice, nothing gay about it” That’s what she tells herself while you roughly throw her down onto your bed.

Billie lets out a gasp at the impact. She slightly bounces on the bed due to the rough landing. But as soon as she settles down she lets out a breath. Her piercing eyes stay focused on yours.

You can see the look in her eyes. She wants to take control, she wants to be dominant, but she knows she can’t. Mostly because she has zero experience with women, and also because she has those ridiculously oversized acrylic nails.

“Billie baby.” You let out a breath looking back down at Billie. Before she can blink you’re leaning down crawling on top of her, pushing her down fully.

It’s not dark yet. Not fully anyway. The sun is about to set now.

You make music too. You grew up with Billie and currently you’re both at the rapid rise to fame after dropping both of your debut albums.

“Please oh my god-“ billie lets out a breath before she feels your lips on hers again. “Let me take care of you.” You mumble between kisses.

Billie, at this point resigns to her fate. Her best friend would fuck her and she couldn’t do anything about it. Not that she didn’t want her to, But she was itching to take control.

You pull back, your mouth ghosting over her jaw. You press hot wet kisses down her jaw to her neck while you fiddle with the layers of tops she has on.

It’s ridiculous really. She’s wearing a tight t shirt, and a huge, maybe 4 sizes too big, t shirt over that, one with A simple graphic design on it.

You pull back from her neck where you were roughly sucking at the skin, to pull the baggy t shirt over her head.

Your eyes land on the simple white t shirt. It’s skin tight and actually her size. Your mouth practically waters at the way her top stretches over her full chest, Only a sliver of her collarbones are visible.

Your eyes meet and she gives you that desperate and needy look. Like she really needs you. “Y/n” she says almost demandingly. “Billie” you reply simply.

A moment of pure quiet and tension passes between you, before you let out a breath starting to tug at her sweatpants with renewed favor.

You tug the baggy sweatpants down her legs, Billie lifting her hips slightly to help you with that. When your eyes land on her almost bare body you lick your lips. There she was, your best friend.

You’ve known each other since you were 14, both of you being signed to interscope records, just under different managers.

And now here you were , about to fuck her, four years later.

“Bills.” You let out a harsh breath. Your hands go to the hem of Billie’s tight white shirt. Billie sits up slightly to help you pull them off.

She lets herself fall back in the bed, her chest moving slightly with the impact of her back landing on the bed. Your eyes focus on her chest. It’s a gorgeous sight. The white lacy lingerie. White, something that seems too pure for someone like Billie, but a color that suits her well.

Billie is more bold with colors. She’ll wear crazy clothes, clothes that would look terrible on anyone else. She doesn’t shy away from Neon, bright and flashy. Always adorning chunky jewelry, big chains and chunky rings. Today is no exception, however it’s a far cry from how many she usually has. Just a few necklace chains, not the usual billion she seems to have on.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” You breathe out after your eyes bask in the sight of her body. Your lips attach to her collarbone. You kiss your way down to her full chest, Pulling away slightly, your eyes take in the sight of her plump boobs engulfed in the lacy pretty bra.

Your lips trail kisses down Billie’s body, through the valley of her breast, to her ribs, to her upper midriff. Until you feel her buck her body up slightly.

You pull back, your eyes connecting with Billie’s instantly. She has such a needy look in her eyes. As if she will simply combust if you don’t immediately touch her right now. “So eager damn” you say under your breath, in an almost teasing tone.

“Y/n, dude come on” Billie groans dramatically.

You pause, raising a mocking eyebrow down at Billie. “You can’t call me dude when you’re literally begging me to fuck you Billie”

“Come on. Y/n please, i need it.” Billie whines loudly. So what? Billie is absolutely down bad andThe teasing isn’t helping.

Your eyes rake over her body as if sizing her up. You’re not pleased with her calling you dude, when you’re literally about to fuck the shit out of her- “stop staring at me like some kind of animal and fucking get me off”

Your eyes snap to Billie’s in an instant. Billie is bratty when she gets needy, when she gets frustrated. But you weren’t having it, she should know her place.

You give her an unamused look before your hands further part her thighs. Your hand lingers at the very top of her inner thigh. You lean down again your lips making contact with her chest.

You’re teasing, not really touching her yet, just enough to keep her on edge. You kiss and lick at the exposed skin of her boob, while not doing much to give her any real pleasure beyond that.

Billie lets out a frustrated sigh, her eyes close, she arches her back lightly into your touch, trying to get you to do something more. But you weren’t caving.

“Come on, I’m sorry, please fuck Me?” It wasn’t really a demand anymore. It was a plea. But still it was way too cocky for you.

Her hand finds its way into your hair. She carefully tugs at the roots of your hair as if pleading.

“You’re nasty.” You huff letting Billie pull you up a little. Your hand caressed her thigh, close to her core, but never touching. You lean up and capture her lips in a simple kiss.

When you pull away you give her a look. “You want me to fuck you, princess?” Billie lets out a low whimper. It could be mistaken for her letting a breath out, but you knew better.

Billie hates the pet name “princess”. She despises it. Billie isn’t a princess, she doesn’t look like it, or act like it. But her passionate hatred for the pet name only makes you say it more. She does get bratty sometimes, when she gets frustrated, or annoyed. You don’t even know why you love calling her that, knowing that she hates it, you just think it’s funny to piss her off.

But right now it’s clearly doing the opposite.

By now the sun had set fully, tho your eyes had gotten used to the dark.

“Please.” Billie lets out a breath “I need it”

“How much do you need it?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself. You just can’t help yourself from teasing. Your hand trails closer to her covered pussy. You push her slutty white panties to the side, your fingers trail close to where she wants you the most, but you don’t directly touch it.

“Badly.” Billie replies simply, her eyes half lidded. You pull your hand back. Your hand instead trails up Billie’s body, before snaking to her back. Billie arches her back, while you expertly unclasp her bra. You pull it off slowly, watching her tits bounce into their place once they’re not restricted anymore.

She’s never had sex with a woman. But the way you’re staring at her like you could literally eat her made her feel so wanted and fuzzy.

“Baby, please. Fuck I need it” she begs in a needy tone. She actually begged. Billie can practically fell herself dripping like a faucet.

Your hand quickly move down to pull her panties off completely. Once you’re done you use the palms of your hands again to keep her legs parted before you dive in. Your mouth connects to her cunt within seconds, sucking and slurping up the leaking juices.

Billie lets out a loud noise, something half way between a loud moan and a gasp. Her body arches slightly, and she practically pushes her hips further into your face. You wrap your arms around her thighs pulling them down and keeping them in place.

You hum at the taste, sending tingles through Billie’s limbs. Once you’re satisfied you lick a stripe up to her clit. She gasps at the contact, while you gently flick your tongue.

After a moment you pull back just slightly, so much so that Billie can still feel your hot breath on her clit. “Tell me how good you feel”

And right after you say that your lips connect to Billie’s clit again, sucking and slurping, before flicking your tongue back and forth.

“Uh-huh. Fuck you’re so good” Billie says In a breathy and unsteady tone. Her hand finds its way to the top of your head, simply pushing you down further.

She lets out a loud moan when you shove your two fingers into her cunt. she lets out soft shaky breaths while small praises fall from her lips like a prayer.

“Yeah, like that.” She whines. You keep sucking and slurping on her clit while you move your fingers at a brutal pace. You had teased her enough today, and you want to see her cum. You want to be the one that did it. So you curl your fingers occasionally, pushing your fingers in and out.

“Please- I’m so close” Billie’s moans mix with the sound of your fingers plunging in and out of her heat, and the sound of your heavy breathing while you eat her out. She lets your name fall from her lips over and over again.

She grips onto anything she can get a hold of to steady herself. Billie’s breaths come out short and ragged as she practically grinds her hips against you, trying to get more friction.

And with a skillful flick of your fingers, she comes. Her back arches as her legs tense and shake slightly. You fuck her through it gently, keeping her body steady and in place.

Once she’s calmed down you pull away. You place a soft kiss on her inner thigh. As soon as your eyes lock on her dripping pussy, you can’t help but want to clean her up. So without second thought your tongue connects to her cunt again. You circle her hole with your tongue, and then trail it up to her clit. Billie shudders and whines at the contact, too overstimulated at the moment. Her hands tangle in your hair tugging you away from her sensitive heat.

You simply let it be and trail kisses up her body, before your lips finally meet in a loving kiss. She can practically taste herself on your tongue. She when you pull back you simply sigh and let yourself fall back onto the bed right next to her.

“Next time I wanna fuck you” billies voice rings out through the silence that had called over you two. You look over at Billie who just sighs and stares at the ceiling.

“Not with those acrylics, you won’t.” You roll your eyes. The reply is simple. As long as Billie has those acrylic nails, she will be on the receiving end, because there really isn’t much she can do.

MASTERLIST

A/N: tell me if you wanna be added or taken off the taglist!! Idk abt this one yall, tell me if u like it 💕

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog , @jetaimevous , @imwetforyourmom , @yoongslvr69 , @ilovethesturnstriplets , @obsessionsarenotfortheweak , @mininishiriki

[avaf00rd]

Stupid challenge

Katie McCabe x Reader

“What do you mean that’s not how it works?” Katie asked humorously through her Irish accent as she put the fry packet down. Pinching the bridge of her nose as you tried to explain for the millionth time.

“You only eat the food if you win scissor paper rock!” You exclaimed placing your hands on your girlfriend’s shoulders.

“Do we get to eat it while we play scissors paper rock?” Katie asked

“Why would you need to do that?” You remarked laughing

“I don’t know you came up with the stupid challenge!” Katie argued back. Your phone still recording as it stood on the back of your parked car near a park.

“Hey it’s not stupid” you sulked, folding your arms, voice dropping.

“Hey look I’m sorry let’s do this again” Katie said reassuringly as she stopped the recording and restarted it.

“Scissors, Paper, Rock” you both said fast. Katie wrapped her hand around your fist, beating you in the game, giving you a shove to the shoulder towards the tree.

“fuck” you breathed out as you ran to the tree and all the way back to the car “oi” you flicked her grimey hands away from the food once you reached her again.

You played scissors paper rock again, you got your hopes up only for your competitive girlfriend to win once again. “Off ya go” she shoved you even harder in the further direction. “So bad at this” Katie whispered to the camera as she ate a burger, mouth full of food.

You came back puffing “why did you decide on that tree- fuck me!” you started to say before she had won once again and you were quick to pick up your feet, frantically rolling your eyes.

The tree really was that far. Making you walk the way back to the car. “Come on y’snail!” Katie yelled “there will be no food left!” laughing like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen.

Scissors

Paper

Rock

“Shit yeah!” You yelled throwing your arms up as you pushed your girlfriend away by her shoulders, causing her to fall. “Oh!” You noticed her plummet to the ground

“Ow don’t fucking laugh” she wined while you stood there clutching your stomach giggling.

“I’m sorry but chop chop” you took her hands to pull her to her own two feet. “Run Katie run!” You yelled out to her, panicking when you noticed her starting to sprint. Determined to get back in zero time

You shoved as much in your mouth as you could before she was already back. Pulling your whole body away from the food before a blink, so you could redo

Scissors

Paper

Rock

“Woo check it out!” You said excitedly as she started to run away. You turned to your phone recording, “who’s losing now” you shrugged with a grin before taking a large sip of the shake. You watched on her way back as she tripped, once again, by her own feet this time.

She bolted back up in no time, bringing a thumbs up from afar as she ran again “I’m okay!”

“Okay the TikTok stopped” you said as she returned. Phone now in your hand while you leaned against the car to watch it over.

“We can eat it all now?” Katie smiled at you

“Yes cheeky” you said grabbing her face with your hand and pecking her lips.

A/n: so I have another fic ready to post that I just need to double check. But I was in a writing mood and wrote this super quick. Super short but I hope you enjoyed xx

[veryinnovative]

1019 word sneak peek of the james amnesia au......rough draft.....mayhaps microfic?

There’s a ringing in James’ ears.

He can’t quite understand what the healer is saying, the words lost to the sound of static flooding his mind, eyes zeroed in on not the green-white accents of the room, nor the stacked three pillows behind his back, but rather on the worried crease marring Regulus’ forehead.

Regulus. Regulus Black—No. Regulus Potter-Black, he’s come to learn, and Merlin, Regulus Potter-Black is holding his hand, James’ hand.

And Regulus nods, ever the brainy one, likely absorbing every word with far more focus than James, who is far too occupied studying the details of Regulus' face to truly listen. He’s barely changed, safe for how the contours of his face have been chiseled with age, deprived of the youthful fat he once stored in his cheeks. There are a few lines here and there, though nothing that could ever disrupt the ineffable beauty he’d been blessed with. The straight, slightly upturned arch of his nose, below a distinguished cupid’s bow—lips set in a tight, rigid line. 

His eyes... James could wax poetry about his eyes—fanned by thick, curled lashes, colored a dappled-blue grey, turned towards him—

“James?”

James blinks himself out of his stupor, reeled back to the present by the angelic sound of Regulus’ voice. “Huh?”

At that, Regulus’ brows knit together, and James can’t help but wince slightly at how scolding it looks. Even that he’s still got. “Did you hear what miss Wiggins just said?” 

“Erh… I’m sorry.” James swallows thickly. “Got a big of… Brainfog?”

Miss Wiggins, bless her soul, offers him an apologetic smile. “No worries, Mister Potter. As I was telling your husband—” James’ heart does a cartwheel at that, “—fortunately the condition is reversible, but it takes a week for every year you’ve regressed. Given how you have reverted to your late teen self, it will take approximately three months for you to regain your memories.”

“But there are no other injuries, right?” Regulus asks as his grip on James’ hand tightens. James realizes his heart performs a cartwheel at that too. “He’s completely healthy other than the memory loss?”

“I can assure you that there’s nothing amiss,” she reassures them (Regulus more than James. This is the best day of James’ life.). Save for the occasional headache, there are no other complications. If Mister Potter ever experiences an ailment related to his condition, I do urge he visits.”

“He does feel warm,” Regulus murmurs, looking at their intertwined fingers. Using his free hand, he presses the back of his fingers against James’ forehead and then neck—“Are you sure he isn’t running a fever?”

Heat floods James’ face, which only seems to fuel Regulus’ suspicions. Luckily, Miss Wiggins interrupts, “I can assure you he is not. A byproduct of the potion we’ve given him, most likely. Mister Potter, are you experiencing pain or any kind of discomfort right now?”

The answer is almost immediate—“No.” Shaking his head, James tries his best to look as fit as possible. “No, I’m okay, really. A little dizzy, but I’m fine, really.” When Regulus doesn’t look the slightest convinced, James gives a little squeeze of his hand. “Trust me, I’m okay. No pain.”

“Good,” Miss Wiggins nods. “Then, Mister Potter, for the record. Can you state your name, age, and what you remember last one more time?”

That’s no difficult chore, seeing how James vividly remembers. “James Fleamont Potter. I’m seventeen years old. Just this morning, I woke up for quidditch practise at my usual time, five in the morning. I grabbed a quick breakfast from the kitchen before heading to the field.”

“And what happened during practise?”

There’s a jolt of searing pain when he tries recollecting the memory. “Bludger…”

Miss Wiggins nods, almost sympathetic. “I took a glance at your earlier medical records, and it was stated you suffered a concussion during your time at Hogwarts. Whatever the reason may be, your incident must have rewired your brain and memories to that point in time given the nature of your injury.”

“I’ve been telling you to fix that cabinet for weeks,” Regulus laments next to him. “But no, you insisted you’d do it the muggle way rather than using a spell.”

“We live together?” James asks a little breathlessly.

“James, we’ve been married for years,” Regulus deadpans. “Yes, we live together.”

“I’m afraid Mister Potter has at least ten years of catching up to do,” Miss Wiggins reminds them, her expression almost apologetic. “It is recommended to not overwhelm him, lest we want to hinder the progress.”

“When—When did we get together?” James asks. “You wouldn’t even look my way.”

That, however, somehow manages to dust Regulus’ cheek a light pink, and James feels relieved they’re already in the hospital because the sight of Regulus blushing has his heart at risk of bursting. “My final year of Hogwarts,” he answers. “You kept sending me letters together with Sirius, and I’d send letters back. After my N.E.W.T.s, you immediately asked me out.” 

“Did we get married?”

“James—We didn’t get married at seventeen and eighteen. That’s a little too young, wouldn’t you think?”

“I would’ve married you at seventeen,” James truthfully admits. Had this been in his own timeline, he would’ve died from the nervosity, but something in him informs of the very fact that he must have admitted that many times throughout the years in various states of sobriety. 

To his credit, Regulus only sighs before rubbing his brow with his thumb. “Yeah, you’ve told me as much.”

At that, James can’t help but grin. “Then you also knew I fancied you long before seventeen?”

Regulus’ features soften at the confession. “I did. You told me eventually. To be fair, everyone saw it but me.”

James shrugs. He remembers how controlling Regulus’ parents were. How Sirius had escaped them by the skin of his teeth. “Things weren’t easy for you. I’m just happy that we did end up together.” There’s the itch to ask for more, find out whether Regulus is still in touch, but he opts to heed Miss Wiggins’ advice instead.

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao), and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again. 

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties. 

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time. 

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins. 

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come. 

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily, 

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes. 

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit. 

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer. 

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline. 

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so. 

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all. 

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it. 

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time. 

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do? 

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.” 

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 30, 2023]

[snapscube]

Hi Penny! I’ve been recently watching dub/abridged stuff (like your dub videos and TFS DBZ Abridged) and I was wondering if you grow up watching any dub/abridged that may have inspired you to do the dub videos? Or just really enjoyed them!

so the primary thing that inspired me to make SRTF specifically was just being a part of the RTF that SRTF is a spin-off from. i wanted to make a gaming-focused version of the show that incorporated some production value improvements i had been floating around for a bit such as recording remotely and making the whole thing a bit more edited with sfx and music and such.

BUT i will say that even before i was a part of og RTF i had previously really loved the idea of dubbing over movies/games on mute and i always had a fascination with it. i remember a few times on road trips i would be watching a movie in the backseat with my sisters and would be like "hey do u wanna mute this and make up stuff over it", which i only ever convinced them to do like one time and i remember having a blast. i also have to give a huge shout out to some old comedic Sonic dubs i ran into as a kid that almost certainly inspired the direction of the show subconsciously. i believe they were from Mardiculous? i dont think they're public anymore, at least not the ones i watched and was rlly into, but it's something that does immediately come to mind when thinking about early influences so i gotta give the respect.

i actually have never really watched the more popular abridged shows though! i have zero history with DBZA or anything of the sort i only hear about it in passing haha.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Heavyweight: Chaggie

Buckle up, Buttercups! This is a bit long. Google translate will be your friend.

Charlie: (exiting her office after a 72 hour video meeting and bee-lining towards the bar) UggGHhghhhHHh!!!! I need a DRINK!!!

Alastor: (whirling in out of nowhere) I wouldn't go in there if I were you.

Charlie: (jumps) Holy Shit!!! Fuck! Alastor, can you not do that, please? You nearly gave me a heart attack.

Alastor: So sorry, dear. I'm just warning you before you go anywhere that the bar is in quite the unsavory state right now.

Charlie: What do you mean? Did Cherri invite her biker friends again?

Alastor: Oh, heavens, no! That little manager of yours would never allow that to happen again.

Charlie: Alastor, we've talked about this. Her name is Vaggie. But why is the bar in an unsavory state?

Alastor: (grins wider) Oh, I suppose you'll just have to see it to believe it, I'm afraid. (opens the door to the bar and latin music blares through the hotel)

Charlie: Alastor, I really don't have the mental fortitude to deal with your bipolar-

-Record Screech-

Charlie: -WHY IS VAGGIE BENCHING THE POOL TABLE IN NOTHING BUT A BRA AND HER SKIRT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Hazbins: GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!! GO!!!

Husker: (counting off Vaggie's reps) Forty-eight! Forty-nine! FIFTY!!!! That's it! Vaggie wins!!!

Vaggie: HA!!! (flips the pool table off to the side and stands up victoriously while speaking Spanish) ¡Toda la razón! ¡Paga, Ángel!

Hazbins: (half cheering and half groaning as money exchanges hands and a few lift Vaggie up like a champion)

Angel: (drunkenly slurring in Italian)

Charlie: And WHY are they speaking like that?!

Alastor: (cleaning his monocle) Ms. Vagatha found out that Angel took a video of your drunken stupor last week and demanded he give all copies to her. He said he would only do it if she out drank him.

Charlie: Again. Not her name. And WHAT?!?!?!?!

Alastor: Needless to say, that woman would do anything for you, so they went shot for shot on something called "tequila". Quite the show, if I say so myself. Angel ended up vomiting in the trash can. They've been arguing in Spanish and Italian ever since. It's almost friendly at this point.

Charlie: BUT WHY IS VAGGIE HALF NAKED?!?!?!?!?!

Alastor: (obviously disgusted by the display but keeping his smile) She didn't want to rip her uniform.

Vaggie: (spots Charlie from her elevated position)

¡Charlie, mi amor!

Charlie: (arrow to the heart as she watches Vaggie hop down and strut over to her, eyes zeroed in on the sway of her girlfriend's hips) Oh, fuck..... I'm in trouble....

Vaggie: (hugs Charlie tight before taking her hand and kissing it) ¿Cómo estuvo tu reunión?

Charlie: (gets goosebumps and blushes) UuuUuUhhhHHHhhh.... V-Vaggie, babe, y-you know I'm not good with my Spanish yet.

Vaggie: Lo sé. (chuckles deeply and looks at Charlie through her long lashes as she snakes her arm around Charlie's waist while the other hand strokes her thumb over Charlie's pulse on her wrist) También sé que te gusta cuando te hablo así en español.

Charlie: (blushing deeper as she wiggles out of her suit jacket and wraps it around Vaggie's shoulders) L-Let's get you covered up.

Vaggie: (smirking as she traces her fingers around the waistband of Charlie's trousers and gently untucks her shirt so she can drag her fingers across the pale skin underneath) Eres tan dulce… y tan sexy cuando te sonrojas.

Charlie: (feels her tail and horns spring up as Vaggie's nails drag across the skin of her hip and tries to corral Vaggie towards the door) OH-KAY!!! L-Let's get you upstairs to bed!

Vaggie: (maneuvers herself so she's escorting Charlie up the stairs leading to their room and uses her wings so that she can hover right next to Charlie's ear from behind) Only if you join me~

Charlie: (thighs pinch together as a spark of electricity jolts through her body and whines) ...oh fuck....

Vaggie: Now, you're catching on~

[darlink-xoxo]

CALL ME WIFEY!๑♡՞

in which, your boyfriend accidentally calls you something

it just seemed so natural to him..

GIF isn't mine

─ͥ─ͦ─ͮ─ͤ➼♥

reader's pronouns are never said, think of it however you'd like <3

Warnings: Fluff, Established relationship, Shoto being smitten, Nervoushoto, Puppy Love 🫶... and spelling mistakes

❥ · ﾟ₊ To celebrate finally having a day off from hero work, your boyfriend of 4 years had taken you out to dinner at a famous restaurant. So here you sat, in front of the love of your life, dressed in your formal attire and happily looking over the menu. when you looked up to ask your boyfriend what he'd be getting, you found him already gazing at you. his eyes glazed over with pure innocent love, his head resting on his hand as his focus zeroed in on you.

"shoto? honey you okay?"

your lover blinked a few times, perking up when he registered your attention on him, "pardon my love?"

"you were staring," you smiled teasingly at him, setting the menu down with a singsong voice.

his eyes widened, bashfulness creeping up his neck from being caught. the icyhot hero faked a cough behind his closed hand as he averted his gaze, "i cant help it.. not when you look so beautiful tonight my dear.."

you shyly smiled, turning away and holding up the menu to hide your embarrassed face, how dare he turn the teasing on you. and do it so unintentionally??? a finger hooked on top of the crease of the menu gained your attention, gently tugging it down, your boyfriend flashed you a soft smile.

"did you have something to ask me, dear?"

"wha? oh yeah! so i was wondering,,,"

and so the dinner continued, with him listening attentively to your rants and you giving him your full attention when he told you what happened just last week between pro heroes ground zero and deku. in the midst of eating your dessert, you're overthinking brain suddenly reminded you of how much this dinner was going to cost.

shoto must've seen your widening eyes because he gently placed his hand on yours and calmly asked what was on your mind.

you waved it off with your free hand, "it's nothing honey, just calculating how we'd split the bill."

his face morphed into something between hurt and confused, "split?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"yeah nevermind, i'm able to pay for the entire thing anyway-"

the intertwining of your hands made you pause, the intensity of the stare he gave you caught you off guard, was it something you said?

"my darling," he raised your intertwined hand to his lips, pressing a loving kiss on your knuckles, "as my wife, you shouldn't feel obligated to pay the bill at all. i'll take care of these things love, dont worry."

your jaw dropped open, a silent gasp escaping as you felt a pound in your chest. a melting sort of warmth crept up your neck, threatening to make it up your face in record time.

shoto blinked at your reaction immediately backtracking in case he offended you, "i mean, if paying the bill means that much to you, then i'd never force you. i just wanted to make my point clear."

no words came out of your mouth. it felt like shoto's gentle squeeze on your hand was the only thing keeping you sane.

"what did you call me?" was the first thing that spilled from your lips.

your lover thought over his words for a second, "love?"

you gripped his hand tighter, "no before that." it was almost funny how desperate you were to hear him say it again.

he thought even harder, nearly drawing a blank, until the realization flashed across his face and suddenly he was averting his eyes from you again.

seeing the red hue on his cheeks was enough to make you melt, "shoto? what did you call me?"

he bit his lip and forced himself to make eye contact, nearly stuttering as he answered you with the most bashful tone you've ever heard from him, "i.. i may have called you.. my wife.."

your bright smile and the gentle caress of your thumb on his hand seemed to relax his tense shoulders, "y'know, i like it when you call me that." your voice was barely above a whisper, luckily your lover was already straining to hear your response.

he sputtered at your answer, "you do?"

you simply hummed in affirmation while going back to eating your dessert, hoping your calmness could hide how wild your internal thoughts were.

shoto stayed still for a while, happy to just stare at you while his left pocket suddenly felt impossibly heavy. shoto gently grazed his pocket with the hand that wasnt holding yours, already feeling the tiny box inside that held a platinum ring that he just couldn't wait to see placed on your left ring finger.

"that's.. that's good to hear.." he whispered.

[dogs2shouldvote]

during my latest relisten of taz balance, i recorded every line i found even the slightest bit funny with zero context, not even who said it (though some are pretty obvious). here’s all my favorites!!

“i’m probably studying.. my cantrips”

“just say mastrubating, dad”

“don’t come in mom i’m studying my canteips!!”

.

“yeah you’ll do any dumb shit”

.

“it’s like a bag of holding! but for.. ass.”

.

“do we know how much damage we did to him?”

“six damage, you said it out loud with your mouth.”

.

“it should be in the player’s handbook! get your salty snack to enjoy while you play dnd”

.

“my grandpa says it’s rude to whisper. especially on a train!”

.

“i’m not going to go toe to toe with a crab while youre armed with a terrible scottish accent and travis doesn’t even have his sheild. i’m out! … did i say travis? i mean leman kessler.”

“nope! that was wrong all the way around.”

.

“i’m cosplaying taako right now, as a stupid man.”

.

“who’s just rolling dice? who is doing secret checks that i don’t know about?”

.

“i always waste my 20’s on perception checks. like i give a shit.”

.

“it’s completely conceivable he would have a name tag.”

“IN A GANG?”

.

“like a pelt??? like a bramble*pelt*?????”

.

“is there a math check? what are you talking about?”

“yeah it’s your fucking brain. you use your brain to add numbers together”

“16”

“what are you fucking doing??”

.

“griffin i love you youre my brother. but if my skill called history doesn’t literally help me with history trivia questions in a category called history what are we FUCKING doing here??”

.

“can i ask you a question? are you guys mean to everyone?”

.

“fus-ro-over dere”

.

“that one was actually a badass bernie sanders”

.

“hey thug! what’s your name? i’m about to tentacle your dick.”

.

“a d6 is like some dice ass dice. that’s some monopoly shit.”

.

“i thought you were saying merle, it’s his bread and his body, take 2d6 healing points”

.

“you two remind me of something… you remind me of the babe! and then i throw the glass sphere at them.”

.

“make a constitution saving throw to see if you can eat this fucking rock with your mouth.”

.

“dungeons and dragons is a. great game.”

.

“my name is magnus burnsides”

“marchins burchens”

.

“magnus would not say that. however, travis would.”

.

“can we please not talk about chekhov’s bush?”

.

“we’ve got a ball, a sack, and a tool!”

“everything is gross here in dnd.”

.

“only losers smoke, isaac.”

“i give isaac an hour long lecture about the dangers of smoking.”

.

“i’m just gonna put my mouth down there and go buck wild”

.

“there’s a lot of go cart tracks called the adventure zone and i’ve been working with my lawyer to shut them all down forever”

.

“does taako fish?”

“yeah taako fishes.”

.

“a rock hard-“

*justin, clint, and travis laugh*

“come ON, *really*?”

.

“taako rushes in!”

“what! magnus follows him.”

“merle’s good out here!”

“WHAT is going on?”

.

“how do you not have a d6 it comes with every board game”

“my daughter-“

“eats them for power???”

.

“uhhh how much health do you have.”

“im not gonna tell you.”

.

“let’s see… i am going to hurt jenkins. with a magical spell.”

.

“this is about to become the taako show starring taako.”

.

“BLUFF FUCKING BLUFF O’CLOCK?? WHAT IS THIS, HALF PAST PERSUASION TIME??”

.

“i’m not laughing in game” *justin fucking loses it*

.

“she’s the best at burning shit ever.”

.

“traaav griffin got to do his show for so long and now he’s gonna destroy yours.”

.

“fucking lup finds like. a gun.”

.

“for sure, keep it sleazy. we’re out, bye!”

.

“i have to believe…. i’m gonna get those fifteen dollars back from greg fucking grimaldis”

.

“based on the rules of the game, dad… you die.”

.

“dad’s making a jerk off motion at me”

.

“don’t play the pennywise card like you ALWAYS try to”

.

“should i talk slower so that everybody who has been complaining about us not playing dnd has time to nut?”

.

“i am a wizard. my name is taako. and i am pretty well fucked.”

.

“yeah i’ve got cumin who do you think i am?”

.

“hear that, babe? we’re *legends*”

.

“i’m clint mcelroy and i played merle hightower-“

“nope”

[0ceanic-cosm0s]

To the Hellfire - chapter 0

[Josh Washington x F! Reader]

3.2k words

masterlist - zero - one

chapter wrote by @sharkology & @xghostcr0wx

⚠️CHAPTER WARNINGS⚠️

[self-harm mentions/references, in-patient setting, blood, mental health issues]

An in-patient facility was not the place you were expecting to spend your month, but it's not surprising considering your track record of mental health problems. Ever since you were young, you had a bad habit. Self harm. The feeling gave you a blissful relief, and seeing the red left you distracted from the outside world.

It was the easiest and best way for you to cope. Sure, the medications your parents got your doctor to prescribe you helped somewhat. But the anguish and depression that constantly consumed you didn't ease up much. And after a severe manic episode, your parents had enough and admitted you to the Ocean View mental hospital.

That's how you found yourself in a month stay. It was really bad at first. You were screaming, crying, begging not to be taken there. The whole intake session you were inconsolable, asking how long you had to stay there. When you first heard '30 days' come out of your assigned therapists mouth, you felt like fainting.

It wasn't all bad though, you met a guy around your age. His name was Josh. He'd just arrived there the day before you. Before meeting him, there was a whole process of frisking you by staff and making you strip to check for any previous wounds or sharp objects. They give you a fresh pair of the hospitals clothes to change into afterwards.

You say goodbye to your parents and hug them when you're done; they each kiss your cheeks with a tearful eyes and wave farewell. One of the staff leads you through hallways and into the 'day room' where all the other patients are put in during the day to have some freedom and relax.

Necks are broken and voices quiet to look at you when you enter, countless eyes boring into your soul. They were interested to see who else was damned here. Your anxiety starts to fill your nerves as you walk over to an empty table, avoiding all eye contact. You just wanted to be left alone to calm down.

The chatter starts up again, only now a few eyes were on you. A specific set in particular however, found you. Intriguing. The stranger strolls up to your table, not even asking if he could sit with you and takes the empty chair beside you, a lopsided smile adorning his lips as he speaks in a deep and somewhat slurred tone.

"Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Josh." He says as he extended a hand out to you.

He was a fairly built guy. Short, brown locks for hair and an interesting shade of green for eyes. His skin was a olive toned, brownish shade. He looked tired, and exhausted. Eyebags hung underneath his eyes, but who's wasn't in this place?

You stare at his hand for a second, contemplating if you really feel like making friends right now. But considering the fact that you'll be there a while, you decide on being friendly.

"Likewise, I'm [Y/n]." You return his handshake, finding it hard to keep eye contact. The only thing you could think about at the moment is how much you didn't want to be in the hospital to begin with.

"So, what's it like here?" You ask with curiosity. "Best to know what's in store for me, right?" You add on in a light joking tone, causing Josh to crack a smile.

"Yeah well it's no luxury hotel, I can tell you that much. I haven't been here long either, only since last night." He admits which makes you visibly deflate, the fear of the unknown starting to get to you.

Josh notices and tries to save the mood.

"Hey hey it's not all bad, on the weekends we get to play games and let loose." He says and is only left with silence. His eyes look around the room for a bit before speaking again.

"Yeah this place fucking sucks." He admits, earning a laugh from you and causing him to smile wide.

Thus, you began sprouting a friendship with Josh in the mental hospital. It mostly consisted of you guys hanging out in the day room, sitting next to each other, cracking jokes, and talking about life at home. That's when you found out why Josh was in-patient in the first place. The death of his two sisters, Hannah and Beth.

Josh was really good at hiding his mental problems, using jokes and dark humor to cope with his trauma. There was only one time where his facade slipped, and it wasn't even in front of you. It was during the middle of your stay. You could tell Josh was acting different that day too. He was a bit more quiet, talked lower, and zoned out a lot more than usual. When he was eventually called away by his therapist to have their daily session, you felt instant bordem sink in.

There wasn't much you could do on weekdays. A TV was mounted on the wall, but the movies you could watch were very limited. You zoned out, thinking about what events in your life led you here. That was until you heard an agonizing scream from outside of the day room, down the halls. A scream that you could only recognize as Josh's voice. A lot of the words he was saying were muffled and inaudible, but you could make out a few words like 'fault' and 'prank'.  You couldn't quite understand what was going on and you could tell he was distressed. An hour later, Josh was back from his therapy session and he walked out like nothing happened. You tried not to act awkward about it, but it was a weird moment. You brushed it off and didn't say anything related to it since you assumed he'd tell you if he was comfortable with it.

He never went into detail about what happened with his sisters. It was so vague, you had to piece together that they were dead in the first place. You never pressed him about it though. You knew it was a very sensitive subject, since it's the cause of him being here in the first place. On the other hand, you didn't mind opening up to him on why you were there.

You would show him your scars when no prying eyes were looking once you got comfortable enough with him to share. They were, gruesome. Is how he'd put it lightly. The first time he saw them he made a pretty clear surprised face you mistook for disgust, your insecurities flaring up a bit. But he quickly apologized and carefully caressed your shaking arm with a calming gentleness.

"I-I'm sorry, [Y/n], I just. I've seen some nasty stuff from the other patients but yours takes the cake." He tries to joke with a nervous laugh. It doesn't make you feel better though. He sighs, and retracts his hand while you two sat in silence for a few moments.

He speaks up hesitantly, trying to figure out how to lighten the mood when a thought comes to mind. "If it makes you feel better, even in the slightest. I think they're beautiful." Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" He sighs, lowering his eyes to the ground while rubbing the back of his neck trying to gather his thoughts.

"It's like. It just shows that no matter how much pain and suffering you've been in, you're still here. You're still living. You exist. Your scars show what you've had to endure and that you made it to another day." His capturing green eyes look up at your [e/c] ones, trying hard to convey the sincerety in his voice.

"I just find your strength admirable, ya know? I hope that makes sense.." He smiles anxiously, hoping to the Gods he didn't make himself look like a bigger idiot. He waits a few seconds for your response-when you finally manage a small smile at him.

"Yeah. It makes sense." You softly say, appreciating his words. His grin widened at your smiling face and you two continued chatting about whatever came to your minds the rest of the day.

Both of you became close, as close as a mental hospital would let you. If the staff found out you were sharing your last names with each other, you'd get in trouble. It was strongly discouraged because 'you're here for treatment, not to make friends.' That didn't deter you and Josh though. You ended up learning his last name, 'Washington', and he told you about how his dad is a popular movie director. You kinda had a hunch his family had a lot of money but you didn't expect them to be that rich. He explained how he owned a mountain as well as how him and his friend would go visit their lodge for a few days to a week in the summer and winter. The way he explained the getaway trips made it sound so fun, leaving you longing for an experience like that.

"That sounds amazing!" you'd exclaim everytime he talked about the lodge.

"Next time we go, I'll invite you. I promise." He'd always say, you both making a quiet promise with your pinky fingers. But you never knew how serious he was. You never kept your hopes up about seeing him after you got out, you knew it was a small chance since both your hometowns were hours away from each other.

That was until he slipped you his phone number on a tiny slip of paper. He gave you a playful wink, indicating that you know what to do with it when you get home. It was the last exchange you guys had before Josh was discharged, leaving you to stay there one more night. The last day without him was the hardest. It's like he brought life into the place. You were practically spending everyday with him for 29 days straight, and you got used to his playful presence. It would be a lie to say you didn't develop a small crush on him during your time together.

The second you were out of the hospital and made it home, you just wanted to run up into your room, lock it, and text Josh-clutching the small piece of paper with his number on it close to your chest; brimming with excitement. But alas, your parents wouldn't allow you a moment to be alone. They showered you in love and affection, presenting gifts to you left and right the second you guys stepped inside. You tucked away the paper with a sigh, reminding yourself you'd be able to talk to him soon enough.

After a few hours of hanging in the living room and talking about your stay at Ocean View (only barely mentioning Josh as you didn't want them to question you for another hour) you tell them that you're exhausted and that you wanted to sleep. They reluctantly agree after they insisted you sleep in the living room with them so they could keep an eye on you, which you shut down immediately and reassure that you'd be fine alone.

You hug them goodnight and lug up all the gifts into your room, swiftly locking the door and hurriedly pulling out the notepaper and your phone-punching in the digits a little too eagerly. You already craved his ridiculous jokes and teasing. Once you added his contact, your finger hesitates over the typing section. 'Would he respond?' 'Would he want to talk?' 'Did he actually care about you?' 'Was he pretending the whole time to be your friend just to hurt you in the end for his own entertainment?'

Countless worrying thoughts filled your mind, and your anxiety begins to build. You felt the urge to self-harm to help deal with the stress you felt, even if it was something so minor. It's just how your brain processed these things. But you manage to suppress it somewhat. You take deep breaths, using breathing exercises like your therapist suggested to do when you got like this. Once you calmed down, you began to shoot him a simple text:

You: "Hey Josh, it's [Y/n]. Sorry it took me a bit to text, my parents were talking to me for what felt like forever. How've you been?"

You contemplate if this was a good text; if it seemed too desperate or corny. But you close your eyes and hit send anyway. Conflicting thoughts ran through your brain if this was a good idea or not. You were told it was strictly forbidden to ever become friends with people in the mental hospital by the staff and your therapist because it might be dangerous for both parties. You didn't care during that time, thinking: 'It can't be that bad, right?' And now, you weren't too sure, your overthinking thoughts swirling around like a typhoon.

Until a few seconds later you heard a 'ping' come from your phone. You immediately open your eyes to see what it was; hoping for Josh. And your heart raced when he responded.

Josh: "Well if it isn't Ms. Marbles finally remembering about lil' old me. Took you long enough"

Marbles was a nickname Josh gifted to you so generously in the mental hospital in reference to you quite literally losing your marbles-the cause for you to get admitted. And ironically enough, you really enjoyed playing a marble game with him during game nights so it was a two in one combo.

You roll your eyes with a sigh, relieved that he texted back and also the faint annoyance at such a cringe nickname, but it still made you smile nonetheless.

You: "Marbles? Really? Couldn't keep that dumb name back in Ocean View?"

Josh on the other side of the screen was smiling wide, happy to finally talk to you again once more. He missed your company and voice dearly.

Josh: "You wound my ego, Marbles! I'll have you know I'm the greatest nickname giver in the whole world. So be honored that you were personally given one by me ;)"

You scoff at the text. He was always such a complex and interesting guy. But his shenanigans were amusing to you, so you often didn't mind them. You kinda got used to the name overtime anyways when he'd see you in the day room and call you over by it constantly. Even though you acted like you hated it, deep down, you felt special the moment he gave you a nickname.

For the next 9 months you and Josh continued to stay in contact. You would text, call, Skype, and even play games together like Minecraft from time to time. You got close to each other over the months you spent chatting. He even finally confided in you, albeit the tinest bit, about the death of his sisters.

And you were growing on Josh too. The one thing he'd look forward to everyday is a text from you. Even if he didn't tell you that, even if you didn't know, it still meant a lot to him. He cherished the time you spent together, it didn't matter it was through a screen.

Some time at the end of January he invited you to his 'Anual Blackwood Winter get Away'. You were honestly excited to see him again, and you couldn't wait to hang out with him without having staff breathing down your back 24/7.

So of course you said yes and accepted the invitation. You knew it wouldn't just be you and Josh, his friends would be there too. You also knew that his friends were the indirect cause of his sisters deaths. You honestly didn't know how he was still able to hang out with them in the first place, but he said they expressed terrible regret for their actions which is fair. Only 2 of his friends weren't in on it, which you guess is a comforting thought. It's not like you already hate his friends, you just thought the prank was in bad taste and resulted in a terrible tragedy that no one saw coming. You just felt bad for Josh the most, he's the one who had to face the repercussions of his friends actions; losing both his sisters. You could definitely see it still affected him. No matter how much he insisted he was over it, you could tell he was still grieving.

You were there for him as much as you could be, through a screen. It seemed like he had a friend, Sam, who has been helping support him through this tough time in his life. You're thankful for that.

The day arrived when you had to get ready to go to leave for the trip. You woke up extra early, making sure you had enough time to take a shower and go over everything you packed the previous night. You texted Josh after your shower, asking him about the details of transportation. He said you were supposed to take the same bus as Sam to the mountain, since she was one of his most closest friends, he wanted you two to potentially bond and already have a good connection. You were a little anxious to meet her, but he's told you a lot about her and she seemed to be a really cool person you'd get along with.

You start getting dressed, choosing a warm yet stylish outfit. You slip on black thermal leggings, white leg warmers and black snowboots, a blue and white pleated skirt with a matching blue sweater, a cute black leather jacket over, and white earmuffs. You put the earmuffs around your neck to stay until you reach the mountain.

After checking all your essentials and making sure you had everything, you place your duffle bag over your shoulder and grab your phone-putting in wired earbuds to listen to music while on your way to the bus station during the car ride. Your parents dropped you off, making sure you packed your meds and your charger. They hugged you tightly good bye and drove off. You sat on a bench and began scrolling through your phone as you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey! [Y/n], right?" You look up and recognize the blonde haired girl as Sam, from pictures Josh would show you. You give her a polite smile and nod, taking out an earbud and offer a hand for her to shake.

"Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you." Sam shook your hand, it was soft and warm.

"Likewise, I've heard lots of things about you from Josh. And I mean a lot. He really likes you, you're a good influence on him." Your heart skipped a beat at her words. You didn't think he'd talk about you that much to his friends. But it made you feel happy he thought of you like that.

You two sit and talk for a fat minute, until your bus arrived. Sam and you step aboard, taking a seat close to the back together and continue chatting, talking about each other while the bus drove off to start the journey to your destination.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

[a/n] omg y'all chapter zero is done and chapter one is coming soon as hell so stay tuned!

-From

🦈 & 🦇

[lennadanvers]

Tsar Bomba*

Johnny Soap MacTavish x Reader

A/N: This is just angst. I wrote it quite some time ago, but I guess it's time I post it. I'm not sure if I really like it, but at least it has a cool name lol. It may or may not have a part 2. The ending I have in mind is not happy, either way. Other than that, I guess the only TWs are mention of past trauma, mentions of a narcissistic father, past narcissistic abuse, and just Johnny fucking up. If I missed anything, please let me know and I'll add it.

*Tsar Bomba: Soviet thermonuclear bomb that was detonated in a test over Novaya Zemlya island in the Arctic Ocean on October 30, 1961. The largest nuclear weapon ever set off, it produced the most powerful human-made explosion ever recorded. (Amy Tikkanen, Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2024)

Soap is an asshole. A complete and utter idiot, with zero regards for other people and their feelings. A stupid pile of scottish-

“Aren’t you gonna go after’er?”

When Ghost is giving you relationship advice, you know it’s bad. Not like Johnny didn’t know that before Simon asked one of the most useless questions he’s heard. Which is to say something, because even he's asking himself that same question.

Am I not gonna run after her?

Of course, the question doesn’t come alone. It implies many others, each of them a punch to the guts.

Should I? Does she want me to? Would it change anything? Do I deserve to drag this any longer? Why would she want me to be with her? Is she even capable of forgiving me? Am I? How could I do it? Why am I so stubborn? Why couldn’t I just do as she said just this once?

Truth be told, most of the questions are accusations. Guilt. Johnny doesn’t fight them. On the contrary, he sides with the feeling in an absurd display of a split personality. One part of him punches, kicks and bites (sadly, in his head he doesn’t carry any guns… Which is, now that he thinks about it, okay, because he deserves a very long suffering); and the other bares the weakest parts of him: neck, belly, the way he’s always known he doesn’t deserve the love he needs… Both versions of him have red cheeks and wet eyelashes.

For the first time since he’s met you- but not the first in his life- Soap thinks he should die. The same way he knows any object he lets go of will fall to the ground, he should die. It’s the next logical step: he let go of you- more like threw your heart to the floor, the thought makes him flinch-, so now it comes the end. You ran out the door, and now…

Now you’re coming right back.

You’re stomping in his direction. You’re blushing, dark red cheeks and nose that he usually finds beautiful, but that right now look awful. Because it’s rage red, hurt red, indignation red;and it’s all directed to him. All provoked by him. Stupid, idiotic him. Asshole him.

Maybe it’ll help you, to yell exactly that at Soap. Even better, you’ll do it in front of Simon. His closest friend, his coworker, his superior… He deserves the humiliation. You deserve to inflict it. You deserve everything.

You stop where it’ll be clear you’re yelling at him, but not close enough for him to touch you- he wouldn’t dare, either way. Except you don’t yell. You just take a deep breath and clench your fists.

“I fucking told you, Soap.”, your voice is shaking, and so are you. And him, now that you didn’t call him Johnny, “I told you to not do that. I told you why I… Why he… I told you!”

You had told him. Twice. He even had asked about it the second time. “I don’t have a relationship with him. I haven’t spoken to him since I was in high school. I moved away as soon as I could, and I’m happy I did. He’s not in my life anymore”. You were so proud when you said that, that there wasn’t a place in your life for your father.

You give Simon a quick glance, and the man stares back at you. He’s not going to pretend he hasn’t been present for the whole interaction. He’s not going to pretend he isn’t listening to you. It clearly makes you uncomfortable, but Johnny is willing to let you know that Ghost will probably kick his ass after this- maybe it’ll help a little with the awkwardness.

Your voice sounds more like a growl when you keep talking.

“I said I never want to see him again! Why would you do that?! Why did you…! He knows where I live! He went to my fucking job, MacTavish!”

Your lips trembles. You’re breaking a little, and he doesn’t know what it is. Pain? Fury? Frustration? Betrayal? Fear? Whatever it is, you make it disappear with another deep breath.

Johnny is terrified. One deep breath and your whole face relaxed. Your eyes don’t look like they’re about to flood your cheeks anymore. It’s a mask that says nothing. You’ve closed off.

It’s a stab to his spine. He knows you used to do this. You used to cry in the bathroom, quietly, and come out like nothing happened. You used to not be able to let him know how you felt. It took you years to cry in front of him for the first time. To trust him. To learn that he was safe.

And he violated your trust.

“This is over. We are over. I warned you! You knew not to do this, the only thing I… I don’t… If you wanted to do it you should have said so, that way I wouldn’t have wasted… You had no fucking right, Soap! I fucking told you I hate him. He went to my apartment! He was there! Why would you…? You had no right!”

He opens his mouth. Doesn’t know what to say, though. Or, actually, he doesn’t know what he can say. Sorry? Not nearly enough. Not even a fraction of what he feels, and even less than a portion of what you deserve. Soap knows the only thing that would fix this, he can’t do: not having done it in the first place. Not tracking your father down. Not asking him to meet up. Not thinking he wasn’t that bad. Not telling him how good you’re doing, despite how proud Johnny was of you. He should have never asked him for his blessing to marry you.

But you don’t want to hear his silence any longer.

“Don’t! I don’t want to see you ever again. I hope you’re happy. You know him now, congratulations! Now you know everything. I bet he was so fucking nice with you. I bet he said he was so proud of me, even if I never treated him right, didn’t he?”

No, Soap is every opposite of happy. Yes, he said that. Yes, at the time he thought your father was nice. He wants to stab himself in the heart for thinking that. He knows that man was an awful parent to you- hell, he wasn’t even a parent.

But that was his mistake, wasn’t it? For Johnny MacTavish, family is the most important thing. Without family, nothing else is worth it. And seeing you celebrate birthdays and holidays only with friends, knowing your family was out there, far from you… He didn’t want that to happen in your wedding, too.

Key words: he and wedding. First mistake: it wasn’t about him. Fucking selfish asshole. Second mistake (this one was more of an idiotic fantasy that he didn’t deserve): wedding. Yes, maybe his father had asked his mother’s dad for her hand before proposing. And? Those were Johnny’s parents. Why in hell would you want him to ask someone else if it was okay for you to marry him?

“He does that! I’m not crazy... He’s- he's nice to other people! He’s manipulating you. And I’m not going to have that narcissistic bastard in my life. You and him can stay the fuck away from me! Even if you didn’t love me, there was no need to do it.”

Don’t love you? Soap wants to cry- his body is just frozen in place. He is a miserable person. All he does is love you. How did he manage to make you think otherwise? To make you feel otherwise? How did he dare do the only thing- the worst thing…?

Your head snaps violently in Simon’s direction, and Soap can almost see him bracing himself for what’s about to come. Which is an unnaturally calm and controlled voice.

“I’m sorry you had to see this, Simon. And I’m so sorry you have a friend who doesn’t understand boundaries or respect, at the very fucking least. I’ll put his stuff in a bag, and I’ll leave it with the doorman, in case you want to go get it for him. I’m sorry you got involved in this, I… I’m so sorry.”

There you are, apologizing again. Johnny was working on that with you. He had been for the past couple of years. But you’re doing it again, even though it is not your fault. It never is, and you’re always sorry, and he wishes he was dirt so at least you could step on him without feeling guilty. And he wants to rip his own heart out and hand it to you. He wants to use his stupid nails to scratch his stupid chest open, his stupid hands to break his fucking ribs and any other bone he can find in the way. He wants to crack his head open against the wall. He wants… It doesn’t matter what he wants.

Because you’re leaving.

You’re leaving, and you’re not crying. You’re so hurt that all the effort you did to open up, all these years working on learning how to be vulnerable, just disappeared. You’re back to the place you were when he met you. Except it’s worse now.

He made a mess. Johnny fucked you up.

For the millionth time today, he wants to die.

[flowercrowngods]

It’s obnoxious, the way Munson sits on the table, legs swinging a little too fast, a little too much purpose behind the motion. Steve zeroes in on it, the movement of his thighs, black denim pulled tight in one second, then going loose the next. It’s hypnotising. Mesmerising. Calming, in a weird sort of way.

“So,” Eddie drawls the word, again with too much purpose, and all this sudden purpose Eddie spills around him so carelessly like he expects Steve to know what to do with it, with him, with himself, is overwhelming and frustrating. It takes him out of his hypnosis. His eyes snap to Munson’s, and he’s reeling a little too much still to know what it is Eddie will find on his face now.

Whatever it is, it makes him still. He quiets down. Everything about him is gone so suddenly it makes Steve blink hard, trying to regain his footing and not think about how gone Eddie really is. A while from now. In a different dimension. Bloodied and pale and so, so still.

The world fades a little bit, or maybe it’s just Steve who does, but something fades. It gets a little easier to hear, so long as he doesn’t have to be or feel or react.

Maybe this was a mistake.

“You don’t usually buy from me,” Eddie says through the cotton-like fog, and Steve zeroes in again. “You don’t usually buy, period.”

It’s like the guy is trying to read Steve. He lets him. He’s sort of dying to find out something real about him anyway.

“But that changed, hasn’t it? Breaking up with Wheeler got you bad, eh?”

Steve feels the frown on his face before he can think to react, and he shakes his head — against the accusation and against the images in his head, against the guilt, against the knowledge that Nancy is dead and he isn’t, and that she died a hero and that he wouldn’t. Ever. He’ll just die a coward.

“No? Alright, big guy, whatever you say, but don’t think I don’t remember finding you the other day cracked outta your mind so hard you couldn’t even walk anymore, and when I came back because I’m nice like that, you were gone. That’s not being sober, that’s not very never doing drugs of you if you ask me.”

For a second there, Steve had forgotten just how much he really doesn’t like Eddie Munson. The guy’s a nuisance and just really, really annoying.

But this is also the longest anyone has spoken to Steve since— since before. And there’s something addictive about it.

Maybe he doesn’t need the drugs. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to him like he’s a real person.

But Eddie’s still staring at him, still trying to figure him out, and Steve knows he should move, he should fidget, probably, or run his hand through his hair and lose the haze that veils his eyes and crack a smirk at Eddie and just. Do anything that a real person would do.

But he can’t. He can only stand, only stare, only catch a thought or two as they race by him at record speed and hope desperately that the thought isn’t Eddie, his pale skin ripping open with lethal wounds, his voice gurgling as he chokes on his own blood and doesn’t even have the strength to cough anymore.

His hands are shaking. That’s something real at least.

“Hey, woah, shit, there’s no need to— God, man, it’s cool, we’re cool, I won’t tell anyone or some shit, you gotta— Harrington, you gotta calm down.”

Eddie’s off the table in record speed, bringing some distance between them but still looking like he wants to approach Steve with raised hands.

“I’m calm,” he says, not understanding.

“You’re having a fuck-damn panic attack or something, man.”

What? No, he doesn’t— Oh.

“Oh.”

He’s on the floor, and his cheeks are wet. He can’t breathe. His brain doesn’t even catch up, his body

“Yeah, fucking oh, man. It’s cool, you’re, uh, you’re safe? I mean. I’m safe? I won’t tell. I’ll give you what you need if this is your withdrawal, I don’t wanna— Shit, man, what the fuck.”

Eddie is freaking out. It’s surreal. Steve has no idea if he’s still panicking. He must be, because he can’t feel his hands. He’s getting dizzy and his chest hurts. It’s okay. It’ll pass.

“It’s okay,” he says, knowing somehow that his voice shouldn’t sound like this. He’s not a real person anyway. “You can go if you wanna.”

Eddie shakes his head, bewildered, absolute disbelief in every one of his features, so loud even in his silence, and Steve prefers this. The obnoxious loudness. Even when he says nothing.

“What the fuck, Harrington.”

It’s all he says before approaching him, sitting down right opposite Steve, knees drawn to his chest in a mirror position, their feet’s almost touching. Eddie looks scared. Or worried.

Steve frowns. There’s no air in his lungs to ask, though, and he remembers that he needs to breathe. Feels that his lungs are screaming for it and that somewhere beneath the fog and the cotton, his brain is screaming at him, his body clawing at its confines to break free and breathe.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie decides, looking at him so intensely, Steve feels somehow invited to look back. To look as long as he can, before he sort of stops processing anything again and tries not to remember how Eddie looks when he knows he’s about to die.

Those terrified eyes trained on him. They have seen nothing yet.

Eddie starts talking at some point — running his mouth, really, but Steve can’t hear him. It’s nice, though. He finds himself staring up at the darkening sky at some point, his head nestled on cold, wet leaves and damp soil. Eddie’s still talking, still looking at him. Steve tries not to panic that he lost it again, that the day has somehow passed without him.

He looks over, meeting Eddie’s eyes, and catching something that looks like a relieved smile as he stumbles over his words and then stops altogether.

“Hey,” is what he settles on at last.

Steve smiles, a frail little thing, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

“Thank you,” he says. And then, because he’s speaking and there’s no fog this time and no blood and no screams, he keeps talking. “For this. And, uh, for that night, y’know, where you wanted to help me. You did, actually, I was just… I never thanked you. So, yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie shrugs, and it’s a little awkward with the angle he’s looking at Steve at. “I didn’t really do shit.”

“You did more than you know,” Steve says, and that’s when the blood comes back. The screams. The fog and the emptiness and the hollow feeling in his chest where he knows there once resided the feeling of It’s going to be okay.

Eddie pauses, and Steve fades. He asks something, but Steve can’t hear him. He gets up, knowing that if he won’t, he’ll stay here all night. Turn into a tree again. Be nothing at all.

He walks away, leaving Eddie behind, and in the parking lot he finds Hopper’s car, the engine running, and then his cheeks are wet again.

Hopper pulls him into a hug, and Steve leans into it. Wants to tell him that he’s fine, that he’s not a tree, that he’s not a person either but something in between but that he’s okay and sorry for worrying him. But the words don’t come, and it is what it is.

“Munson okay?” Hopper asks when Steve pulls away from their embrace, and something about Hopper knowing exactly what to ask him is so vulnerable. But it makes him feel good, too. Like he’s not dumb for it. For the way he’s checking up on them. On all of them. Even Eddie.

“He’s fine.”

“Good,” Hop says, starting the engine. “There’s pasta for dinner.”

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : A Q&A video with Y/R/N and Aidan Ghallagher.

➢ Word Count : 1,750

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

➢ Note : Not gonna lie, I am uncomfortable about writing a real person 😭, well, real people in general. That's why in this fanfic, Mr. Gallagher may come off as OOC. So please don't be surprised that I focused more on the reader's chaotic energy to contrast with Mr. Gallagher's tame personality. For the record, Y/R/N means your real name. Also please comment or let me know if you want a part 2 but with your questions instead.

Q&A with The Umbrella Academy cast ft. Aidan Gallagher and Y/R/N

"Hello everyone! As promised I promised to you guys, I brought over Y/R/N who plays Number Zero of the Umbrella Academy, for today's video." Aidan Ghallagher introduced the girl beside him who wore a large cardigan and an unamused look on her face. 

"Are you for real?" Y/R/N asked, not humoured by Adian’s introduction but the actor looked amused by his fellow co-star’s reaction.

"Is that all you have to say I mean? You don't have a catchphrase or introduction for your channel?" She added but the brunette actor ignored her words knowing she’s just jesting for the video. 

"Anywho, we will be answering some of your questions and we will be providing our answers to the best of our abilities."

The (your hair color) actor huffs and pretends to be hurt by being ignored. 

"Oh yeah, I just wanted to double check Y/R/N, are you okay with answering the questions-"

"Of course I am, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here."

"You've been in my channel for 15 seconds and your already acting like it's yours."

The actress dramatically flips her hair then bats her lashes at the camera making Aidan laugh, "It's my job to make this entertaining. I know you can't possibly handle the weight of being the only star."

The boy smiles, clearly entertained by her actions but, managed to stifle his laughter. "We might as well start with the questions before this becomes her channel."

"So the first question is from, moe-moe-kyunette, I uh, did I say that right?" Aidan looked doubtful once he said the username then looked at Y/RN to help him out.

"Ship it and clip it everyone! You've tricked him into saying the thing!" The actress laughed as she slammed her fist against the table while holding her stomach, knowing the internet user just tricked Aidan into saying a meme.

"Wait, is it something bad?"

"Not a bad thing, it's like a japanese meme, an anime meme to be exact, about an idol girl trying to be cute so she says that."

"I see," As the actor was about to resume with the video but Y/R/N stopped him, "Wait, before you start, can you do the 'moe moe kyun' meme with the hand gestures?"

Aidan shook his head whilst smiling then resumed, "Well, they asked you the most important question. Have you ever listened to my music?"

The actress stiffened, "Did my manager really agree with the questions you picked?"

"Yes, yes, she did." He looks at her with a raised brow and an amused look then gestured to the camera, "Well, we are waiting Y/R/N."

"I-" She looks away flustered, "I'm sorry but I haven't listened to your music yet- I know I promised to listen to them but have not had the time to listen to them…"

"And why is that?" The brunette crosses his arms the look still on his face.

She nervously looks down at her feet, "It's just...I haven't been able to make time yet." He gives her a knowing look then gestures to the camera, "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

"I just, I just- I just think that we should move on now! How about I read the next question?" She then nears the monitor, and Aidan is silently laughing. 

"So Aidan and Y/R/N, is it true you guys fought on set?" The girl quickly hides her face in her cardigan from the camera. " I should have never read the question voluntarily!"

The boy beside her chuckles, "But, to answer your question, we have never fought on set, some people just misinterpreted that we had a fight because she hit the back of my head."

The actress hides herself with the cardigan she wore, "Look! That's how I greet my friends. I know that's not how other conventionally greet others that's why I only did it to people I was close with."

"Let me," She takes in a deep breath, then removes the cardigan from her face. "Let me add some context to the story first, so I mistook Aidan for my friend Astrid without her wig on, and yes, I didn't notice he was wearing his costume!"

"So like, I greeted him by slapping the back of his head. He turned to me confused why I just did that and I ran away out of instinct and never explained it until he had the chance to corner me." 

Aidan was laughing so hard, "I had to corner her because I didn't want our scenes to become awkward than they already were. When I found out the reasoning I just forgave her but told her that she really shouldn't have ran away."

"It was instinct okay! That was not the first thing I thought of when I processed I just hit you. It didn't help either that we weren't friends yet, so I thought my whole career was ruined at that moment." The (your hair color) actress covered the half of her face. 

The boy smiled though it was his way of attempting to stop himself from laughing anymore at his fellow co-star’s flustered state. "Gajh1098 asked, what is that one trait we like about our character at the same time hate?"

Y/R/N gestures for Aidan to start first, "You can start first."

He nodded then prompted his chin on his hand, "I would have to say, I hate how Five is confident in himself to the point it comes off as arrogance. Being confident is not bad but if you have seen Y/R/N here-"

She jumped then exclaimed loudly, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"She acts too confident on camera but we all know - especially the other casts members - that she's actually tamed. You can see on our interviews as a cast, that she's like that one cousin in the corner, that doesn't know what to say so she hides behind her other cousins."

The girl cringed, "Oh, god, you saw those memes? I was hoping you wouldn't." 

"I was literally there to witness it," The actor laughed then, added on. "Anywho, Y/R/N acts confident but it doesn't come off arrogant. She knows her limits but Five doesn't because he thinks he can do everything by himself that he ends up not recognizing that he can't do everything himself."

Y/R/N nods, "Yeah that's kinda toxic in a way. It's kinda like how in group works. You lead the group and end up doing everything yourself, because you don't trust your teammates. I can see why you wouldn't trust them but, you shouldn't push yourself to the point where you crash down."

Aidan nods then gestures at the girl, "Your turn to answer the question."

"So the one trait I dislike and like about Y/N is that she's flexible with handling people. She is very understanding, too understanding! She knows how to interact with them very well. It's a good trait in hindsight - especially in work places - but, it's not a good trait if you become so malleable that people take advantage of it." 

The actor nodded along agreeing with her words.

The actress then abruptly sat up shouting, "MY TURN! I wanna read the next question! Oh yeah, do we have to mention the usernames? Or are you going to show them on screen?" 

"I usually mention them because I feel like it makes them happy-"

"Well too bad! I'm going to make their day miserable." Y/R/N cheekily grinned. "This person asked why I always hide behind other people or hold onto their clothes like a child… Can we skip this?"

The boy chuckled, "No."

"Seriously, I feel like you and my manager are trying to humiliate me for the video.” She muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes at Aidan suspiciously, “Anyways, I'm still getting used to cameras and it's kinda instinctual for me to do that I suppose? I'm not used to cameras since I have been used to working with microphones being a voice actor first and foremost."

His hazel's eyes light up, "Oh yeah, I recall you saying you were a VA, why did you audition for the show to begin with?"

The actress scratched her nape with a wry smile, "I thought it was a voice acting job not acting. I didn't even know until I was picked that it was an acting job. I scrambled to research on acting and kept asking the others if they could give me advice on acting."

He face palmed, smiling, "Did you not read what you were screening for?"

"To be fair, it was my manager who read it out loud, I just butted in and just said yes mindlessly because I saw the character designs and thought they were cool, I'm referring to the comics by the way."

"Next question from is from wbip8581, they asked how we become close?" The brunette male read the question outloud.

"Since Aidan and I got a lot of scenes together, I asked if we could work on them - like rehearse with each other so he could give me pointers on how to deliver my character."

"We hung out but, it was more on watching reality TV shows to examine and decipher how an angry person acts or how someone similar to Y/N acts." He added onto the girl’s explanation to which she nodded along.

"I think because of him, I got into watching Hell's kitchen," Both the actress and actor laughed at how true the statement was.

The brunette male then decided to move, "For now, this is the last question since I know the video is probably going to be long with how much Y/R/N rambles-"

"HEY!" The girl pretended to look offended by putting a hand over her heart.

Aidan chuckled, "So, the last question is from Immpotato10, do you two plan to make more videos together? Assuming that the Q&A does well."

"That depends really… although I like talking to Mr. Gallagher." She says his last name mockingly which made him roll his eyes, "I don't wanna overstay my time here in his channel, and if he has good video ideas then I will probably reconsider."

“Well, I suppose that’s goodbye for now!” Aidan bid his farewell to his audience followed by Y/R/N waving her two hands at the camera like a child. 

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[mysticovo]

hey so could I possibly get a scenario where Splinter is on about none of his sons will ever give him his grandchildren one day. He has zero hope. And s/o of Donnie is just like “Donnie has 5 robots that call him dad so you’re already a grandpa. Donnie maybe your dad’s feeling left out?”. What happens after this?

Omigosh yeaaaa!

~~~~~~~~~~

Splinter was bored out of his mind…..looking through the family album as his old Lou Jistsu movies played in the background. As he started at the pictures of his 4 sons as young children, reminiscing…he couldn’t help but sigh. All he wanted was to experience it again….having the small tots running around the lair. But…differently.

Of course his sons had to deny him of that feeling. He kept flipping through the pages. Eyes grazing over each one. ”Oh my sons…” He sighed out once more, not realizing he was thinking out loud.

“Splints? You alright?”, a calming voice called back. It shook him out of his thoughts as he looked up, seeing you with your hand on the back of his chair.

“____, yes…just thinking.”

“About…? It’s like that time your favorite show was over run by that…horrid puppet show.”, you paused and looked at him with a soft expression, “Don’t make me get Dr. Delicate Touch or Dr. Feelings.”

He sighed once more before asking real bluntly….“When am I going to get grandchildren?”

“Oh…oh!”

That was certainty not what you were expecting…but it had to come out some point. Apparently even Leo’s been thinking about it since he was what, 14? You’ve had to hear that conversation in some of Donnie’s old recordings from when they were kidnapped.

“I-um-well..”, you tried to find the right words but nothing sounded correct or be able to be verbalized. To say you were red was an understatement.

“I….I need to go and babysit Shelldon..”

And with that, you quickly left without another word. This was a conversation you desperately did not want to have…especially right now. As you walked through the halls of the lair, thoughts plagued your head. I mean…was that even possible?

Oh…it sort of was…

~~~~~~~~

“Dee!”

Your voice had rang through the lab, the sound of machinery was the only other noise. Once he heard it, he immediately looked up. Shelldon was currently curled up on his lap asleep as he worked on another turtle robot, this one a baby.

“____..”, his voice had a small breathiness to it as his eyes filled with love. You were basically a small family by now with all the robots calling you two their parents.

You sat on a stool and rolled over to him, stopping an inch away from him. Your hand made it’s way to Shelldon’s head and gently stroked it.

“Just had an awkward conversation with your dad.”

“When is it never?”, a small smirk laid on his beak as he continued to tinker with the small robot.

“Oh har har…but..I think your dad’s feeling…it’s hard to explain.”

Looking down at your lap and hands, Donnie slipped a hand into yours. He squeezed it softly and left a kiss on your hair.

“Scoff, describe it. Maybe my non dum-dum brain can make sense of yours.”, he really didn’t mean it in a bad way…more of a playful, teasing way. Sometimes it was certainly hard to decipher.

“He asked about grandchildren. I think…I think he might just feel left out of this whole entire thing..”

“He told you what?! I mean…he really shouldn’t have even done that! The pressure it would…just…nyeh!” He slammed his screw driver down onto the work desk and turned to you. “I am so sorry..”

“It’s not your fault…I asked why he was upset.”

“Still…”, He sighed, he gave you a look before giving you a pat on the head with his battle shell’s robotic arm, “Pops is just…look, I’ll talk to him. I’ve been able to scold him before and I’m not afraid to do it before.”

He then decided to go on a ramble of the tv shows and docs he was gonna rig to Splinter’s glorious tv/projector. As he ranted and rambled, your thoughts ran. “Donnie…what if he’s feeling sort of…I don’t know…left out? I mean we have Shelldon who he barely interacts with and he’s basically our son. Then this one..”, As you gestured to the two turtle robots, Donnie looked back at you with loving eyes.

“I guess I didn’t…calculate that factor.”

He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. He sighed softly again before getting up, placing a small blanket Mikey made onto the unfinished robot.

“I’ll try to talk to him…”

“Without that tone.”

“Yes, yes…without that tone.”, Donnie softly laughed and rolled his eyes. With that, he walked out of his lab and lingered for a few moments.

“Hey _____..”

“Yea Dee?”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea..” With a soft smirk, he finally left. Leaving you with a shocked face and your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey! Hope you all liked it, sorry it took so long! Ive just had a few things going on and stuff but I’m still working on and accepting requests! Like always, I’ll see you later my Mystic Deers! （＾∇＾）

[frazzledsoul]

A non exhaustive list of terrible things Liz Danes did/said after she showed up:

- Makes a beeline straight for the pot the minute she shows up

- Hasn't called to check on Jess once in the nine (!) months he's been gone from Stars Hollow

- It's established that she generally has a terrible track record with men/employment/stable housing

- It's also established she is easily able to manipulate Luke into doing her bidding and in pretending that every new terrible idea is no big deal

- Makes a show of introducing Jess to TJ and acting like she's the best mom ever despite his obvious discomfort

-Makes several statements to Lorelai to the effect that Luke has been cleaning up after her for her entire life and finding her jobs, apartments, helping her out financially, getting rid of dangerous men

- To quote Jess verbatim: "I don't like this guy. I don't like any of the guys. She doesn't give a crap what I think. I've got nineteen years of proof to back me up". She always chose her men over him, no matter how terrible they were.

- Luke is involved in sussing out Jess's whereabouts and living situation, giving him a place to sleep (thanks to Lorelai), offering him money to fix his car. Liz is not involved in any of that and doesn't offer. She signed off on being the parent a long time ago.

- Liz shows back up for the wedding and immediately manipulates Luke into helping arrange the wedding, selling jewelry in the diner, inviting strippers to the diner...when she's around, he ends up doing her bidding almost automatically. Zero boundaries.

- There's more references to her sketchy self-employment and the many times Luke watched it fall apart.

- Luke's the one who goes to New York, finds Jess, has him go back to Stars Hollow as a favor to him. No comment from Liz on his lifestyle or offering him a place to stay. Luke is the only one who fights with him about it. Luke's also the one to give him romantic advice as Liz is not involved in that at all.

- Liz reveals her romantic history right before the wedding. Second husband was okay, third husband was not and died mysteriously, boyfriend after third husband was also okay. This is also the only wedding she's not been drunk at.

- Liz assumes Jess broke Rory's heart even though she has no idea who that is. Lorelai steps in and defends Jess, saying it just didn't work out.

- Luke is roped into taking care of Liz and TJ for several weeks after they are in a car accident and following them around on the Ren Faire circuit. I only mention this because he is, as always, forever her caretaker.

- Liz and TJ get into a screaming fight early in S5 and ruin Luke and Lorelai 's date.

- Sometime in S5 or S6 Liz mentions that she's never made dinner, not once. Jess is around 20 years old at this time period. How did he eat?

-Liz manipulates Luke into letting TJ work at the construction at Lorelai's house. She cries and throws a tantrum until he gives in. TJ somehow knocks a big hole in the upstairs of Lorelai's house.

-Liz does not show up to Jess's open house, nor does she ever mention it (or him at all) afterwards. Luke shows up to support him and tells him he's proud of him. Mom can't be bothered.

-When Liz finds out she's pregnant with Doula, she casually mentions to Luke (in public!) that she binge drank while she was pregnant with Jess. Luke isn't shocked by this.

-Liz claims to Luke that TJ abandoned her after she told him she was pregnant. Luke goes to TJ and TJ reveals that Liz got violent and threw half the household objects at his head and kicked him out when he was excited about it. Luke goes to Liz afterwards and she rants that if she stays with TJ her kid's going to end up ruined and she'll have to send it away. Luke is the one who reminds her that Jess turned out OK and that he's actually doing great (not that Liz has any knowledge of this at all or should receive any credit for it). Liz and TJ reconcile.

- Liz and TJ invite Luke over for dinner in early S7. Their stove is broken. He has to make dinner himself (because of course he does). Despite formerly being supportive, they tell him Lorelai was bad for him and Liz says some mumbo jumbo about how they were never meant to be together. Luke runs into Lorelai at the grocery store and says the whole thing was a bad idea and he'll be civil to her, but he's not interested in a personal relationship again. Lorelai basically doesn't go anywhere in town she could run into him for the next six months (okay, the romantic advice isn't terrible per se but Liz is seriously inconsistent on this issue).

- Luke attends Doula's birth. Liz is excited about April being a free babysitter.

- Liz dumps Doula on Luke at work a few weeks after she is born because she "needs a break" and disappears for hours.

-Liz and TJ invite themselves to stay at Luke's apartment some weeks later, shortly after Lorelai and Christopher have broken up. Now Liz is all excited about Lorelai and Luke getting back together (pick a lane, woman).

-In the series finale, Liz tries to dump Doula on Luke at work AGAIN (how often does she do this?) Luke stops her before she can leave, and makes her take the baby with her.

-Liz and TJ are mercifully offscreen for AYITL. Jess fulfills the role of being Luke's sounding board and attempting to comfort him when he has problems with Lorelai and there are already enough quirky townies, so she isn't needed. TJ and Liz are involved in a mysterious vegetable cult that they eventually get kicked out of, which provides a reason for Jess to come into town every so often. He's now the support to his family that Luke used to be on his own. It's implied that this is not the first time TJ and Liz have gotten involved in a cult over the past few years

My point to all of this is that Liz is not stable, she's not a decent person, she has not "redeemed" herself, she may be clean and sober but she's still horribly selfish, unreliable, and a pain in Luke's ass. There's a bunch of stuff that is implied in Jess's behavior that indicates she was a horrible mom, but we don't get the full picture until she shows up. The full picture is...a lot worse.