#but feel free to reply ya'll <3

[two-white-butterflies]

invisible string | m33 | part two

Description: You face a career-ending injury, that forces you to give up your childhood dream. 7 years later, you return to the paddocks as a guest - and as the Team Principal of Prema Racing. What happens when feelings are too difficult to hide?

Pairing: max verstappen/racer!reader

part one | part three

(2022, PARTY AT THE HORNER YACHT.)

"L/N is such an overrated driver, she had one of the most successful engines - anyone could've piloted that thing." Christian chuckled while pouring his guests another round of wine. Max absentmindedly laughed at the joke - he didn't really hear the joke but he figured that it must've been hilarious for all the people around the table to laugh.

Kimi Raikkonen's eyes narrowed - searching the boat for drivers who didn't agree with Horner's statement. "It takes a hundred female pilots to be one man." Horner shrugged and the table erupted into another chorus of laughed. This time, Max wasn't laughing.

itsmee_yn: If suddenly you forget me, do not look for me - for I shall have already forgotten about you. (Pablo Neruda)

912 comments 321,238 likes

oleole: this is totally about max's new interview 😭 - whispersme9: WHERE? - oleole: the one w/ daniel in the redbull yt

ynworld: Some people deserve to be in the past, mother. - itsmee_yn: totally !

selenagomez: ❤️

nicorosberg: Let's talk about it over coffee? - itsmee_yn: you only talk to me when there's tea :(( - - nicorosberg: You know me so well haha

maxverstappen1: What's going on?

192 comments 126,283 likes

ynandmaxuniverse: the hoes are fighting 😭

danielricciardo: I DID NOT START THIS. 🤲🏼 itsmee_yn liked this comment.

formulaonegirlie: ya'll imma need a full article on what the fuck is happening 😢 ALSO QUOTING TAYLOR SWIFT? WHEN SHE'S Y/N'S FAVORITE ARTIST AND FRIEND.

itsmee_yn: Had so much fun with this family ❤️ I'm legally changing my last name to Raikkonen.

912 comments 238,212 likes

kimimatiasraikkonen: 👍🏻 - itsmee_yn: that means so much to me king 👑

nicorosberg: and you didn't invite me? - itsmee_yn: WHO R U? - - nicorosberg: You're new best-friend since the last one got evicted. 🤯 - - - itsmee_yn: NAH

sebastianvettel: Let's catch up soon! - itsmee_yn: u r automatically invited to my house sir

nicorosberg's story

caption: sometimes i wonder if she really hates the man, or if she really hates how she loves him. 🤦🏼‍♂️

replies

itsmee_yn: UR A 37 YEAR OLD BULLY 💀 itsmee_yn: U SHOULD LITERALLY GET OFF SOCIAL MEDIA nicorosberg: Why is your message blank? itsmee_yn: I'M TELLING KIMI THAT YOU'RE PUBLICALLY BULLYING HIS 1ST BORN DAUGHTER nicorosberg: publicly* itsmee_yn: GRAMMAR POLICE

itsmee_yn: 3 days before the Hungarian GP ✨

394 comments 458,238 likes

danielricciardo: You coming? - itsmee_yn: I have free tickets 😍

landonorris: OMG QUEEN WE HAVE TO MEET UP - itsmee_yn: ❤️

maxandynlover: Is the war over? CUZ... 😁

maxverstappen1: looking forward to it 😱

sabrinacarpenter: I was rooting for you sis 🙁 - ynprivateaccount: He has me weak on my knees 😭 - - sabrinaprivateaccount: old habits die hard 😢

(2022, HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX)

"So, are you going to explain?" you placed both of your hands on your hips, staring at him with a glare that told him he wasn't going home scot free. "I talked to Kimi," he mumbled sheepishly. "I know that this isn't an explaination, but I want you to understand that I never meant to disrespect you in that way." he explained.

"Kimi told me what Christian said about you, and it wasn't funny. I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry." he apologized, taking another step closer to wrap you in an embrace - but you step away. All your life, you've been told that a woman didn't have room in Formula One - and to hear your best friend laugh at those jokes? It was worse than losing your career.

"Am I supposed to believe you?" you frowned, unable to comprehend that he was telling the truth. "You don't have to - but I'm sorry." he breathed with sincerity in his tone. You wanted to believe him, but you needed more convincing.

danielricciardo's story

caption: who u talking to? @itsmee_yn

replies itsmee_yn: secret no clue danielricciardo: 🤣

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @eternalharry @milaeth @msliz @lifesuckslife @ellamae021 @1-800-simpingcowbaby @trashcanrat @ccallistata @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @georgeparisole @allenajade-ite @eternalharry @messwithtess21 @benbarneslut @withyoutilltheendofthismess @omgsuperstarg @stillbreathin @mishaandthebrits @lemonsinpanic @styles-sunflower @cassiesworldsworld @1655-1485 @hachrinnen @luanasrta @fdl305 @reidsworld @sarahedwards16 @peargasleeeee @imsorare @sinofwriting

COMMENT TO GET TAGGED

[matthewtkachuk]

you are the artist and i am the paint - quinn hughes

One week with Quinn in the offseason reveals several truths (aka best friends to lovers with a dash of mutual idiocy)

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

warnings: the ush (drinking, angst, etc. etc.), could be an artist au if you squint

words: 4.6k

a/n: this is the canucks thanksgiving video's fault. also @hotanddistraught's fault. big ups to @antoineroussel for making me a custom gif and also proofreading the hell out of this thing love you. currently stuck in a calgary airport hotel because canadian airlines suck, but the canucks nabbed a win so ya'll get a treat <3

Summer is bittersweet.

For every positive feeling you have over taking a break from your schooling and having the opportunity to make some cash at your summer internship, there are ten more negative ones that revolve around the end of the hockey season taking your best friend away from you. 

It’s silly, likely, to let one person’s presence, or lack thereof, dictate the general tone of your four month break from school. A bit ridiculous, really, to miss someone terribly when you saw them just last week when you dropped him off at the airport and leaned into the hug at departures for a minute too long. And pathetic, most definitely, to watch his private instagram story more than once for the brief glimpse of a real, genuine smile.

Passing on the opportunity to go out for drinks in Yaletown—on a Wednesday in May for no reason other than the majority of your friend group was free of academia for the next few months—was not at all typical behavior for you. Your friends liked to joke that there wasn’t a happy hour in the metro Vancouver area that you hadn’t personally shut down. 

The teasing didn’t really bother you; what was so bad about mixing your frugal nature with yummy cocktails and appetizers? That blasé attitude was likely at least 90% responsible for the confusion in the group chat. The other 10% related to your friend Daniel’s confirmation that he would be showing up and using his ‘family credit card’ to get the first round. If there was nary a happy hour you met that you didn’t like, there wasn’t a free round of drinks you didn’t love.

Regardless, they finally leave you alone almost 45 minutes after arriving at the first club, other than the occasional shaky photo of someone’s drink every now and then. 

The silence is kind of nice without your loud mouthed roommate and the rest of your friend group who had spent the better part of the late afternoon pregaming. Nice, but lonely, and it only reminds you that your best friend is on the other side of the continent. Luckily for you, the true reason behind your uncharacteristic skipping of girls’ (+ Daniel) night out makes itself known by the erratic vibration of your phone somewhere in your duvet cover. 

Less luckily for you, you can’t find the damn thing until you grab the bottom corners and shake out the heavy blanket and send your phone flying onto the floor. It’s a struggle to grab it before the phone call ends and flop back onto your now half-made bed, and it’s obvious by the way you struggle to catch your breath while also muttering a greeting into the phone. 

“Were you working out?” 

The question has you doing some strange combination of a laugh, wheeze and choke that takes a solid minute to pull yourself out of before you reply, “Nope.”

You can almost picture the exasperated yet fond smile that might be taking over Quinn’s face as he asks, “You doin’ alright without me?”

“Never,” is your answer before you quickly shift gears into recapping the latest roommate boy drama and how much you hate your manager. 

It’s a long conversation, the kind you have with a friend you only catch up with once a year despite only being away from each other for a week. You love hearing about the shenanigans Quinn’s getting up to with his brothers; love the feeling of relaxation and relief that practically radiates through the phone and his tone as he speaks about home. When he tells you about thinking about maybe taking a class at UMich this summer, you only encourage him—which is a far cry from the taunt Jack threw at him when he had first brought it up. The skin of your cheeks grows warm when you overhear his mom asking who is on the phone followed up by a sweet “My mom wants me to tell you she says hi.”

At some point throughout the night you turn off the big light and turn on your salt lamp, jump into your pajamas and tuck yourself deep under the covers. It’s easy then, in the warmth and comfort of your duvet and with Quinn’s voice lulling you to sleep to close your eyes. 

“So, uh, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come stay here for a week or two in July...?” You think you maybe hear him ask.

Unfortunately for Quinn, your only answer is the rustling of sheets and a soft snore. 

-

The beginning of summer passes a lot like it began, although with you partaking in more after work drinks with friends than not. You work and you don’t study and you certainly don’t mope around downtown Vancouver counting down the days until September. 

Quinn starts taking a class that fits in with his schedule of spending as much time as he can with his family and friends back home while also keeping up his offseason training regimen. He’s pretty tight lipped about it all, secretive and reserved in a way you’re not quite used to from your friend of several years, answering in half truths and changing the subject when he can. It’s not really your business anyway, and so you let him get away with terrible segues that you would normally tease him for. 

He does ask you again a few weeks later if you want to come down to Michigan for a week or two, turning your protests about not being able to afford it into not wanting to intrude or let him pay your way into conceding that you can give him a week in mid July. 

That’s about the time Jack grabs the phone from his older brother’s grasp, turning the regular phone call into a Facetime that gives you the gift of watching Quinn chase after him, his awkward little run having no right to be as endearing as it is. 

“I’m glad you’re coming,” he says later, having locked himself in the master bedroom of the house he shares with Jack (and sometimes Luke). His hair’s a mess and his cheeks are flushed 

“I’m really glad, too,” you smile. “Now tell me what class you’re taking.” 

“Would you look at the time, sorry we gotta head to my parent’s house.” 

You roll your eyes, but let him go with the explicit promise that he’ll call later. 

-

Somehow May and June simultaneously fly by and drag all at the same time. Each eight hour shift takes a hundred hours to pass, while your days off come and go in the blink of an eye. Every day you get closer to the date circled in red ink on your calendar; no indication of what the date means other than the word Michigan written in bold, capital letters. 

When July hits, it really hits you that you’re getting to see Quinn 

There’s a giddy sort of feeling in your stomach, the kind that usually pops up right before Quinn comes home in September. You’ve never been to Michigan before, it didn’t work with the mix of your serving job and classes you’d regretfully chosen to take the last couple of summers in an attempt to get ahead in your degree, and the first year you hadn’t really known Quinn well enough for him to take you home to meet the parents. 

Not that that was what this was, of course. You weren’t Quinn’s girlfriend or anything, nervous to earn his mom and dad’s approval, gain the acceptance of his brothers. It wasn’t like that at all with you and Quinn. Besides, you already had it from the times the family had flown to Vancouver—it was just a fact of life, parents loved you. And Jack and Luke loved to team up with you to embarrass Quinn.

You were just excited to see a friend two months earlier than you would normally see him, that’s all. 

Super casual, super platonic, super friendly. Super. 

Which is why you’ve had your bags packed since you flipped over the Canucks calendar Quinn had jokingly gifted you for Christmas to a picture of Thatcher.

Kimmy graciously offers to drive you to the airport, even if you could totally take the skytrain if you had to. “Just remember I’m your favorite roommate,” is the only explanation she gives, ignoring the fact that she’s your only roommate.

“You know you’re only going for a week,” she says bright and early Monday morning, eyebrows raising high above the line of her sunglasses. 

“Shut up,” is all you can manage, tossing your luggage in her trunk and skulking over to the front seat where you buckle in and immediately make a grab for her coffee mug.

“Thought you’d be more excited,” she mutters, pulling out of the parking garage.

“I am excited,” you reply, downing half of the mug even if it isn’t made exactly the way you like it. It’s black and bitter and doesn’t have an ounce of sweetener or cream in it, but it’s caffeine and you feel like the human embodiment of Quinn’s eye bags right now.

Kimmy has the grace to keep her mouth shut for the entire car ride, only turning up the radio a little when a Taylor Swift song comes on. She keeps quiet even as she pulls into the departures lane and hops out to help you with your luggage and wrap you up in a big hug. 

Quiet, until she opens her mouth at the last minute that is. “Bye babe, say hi to your boyfriend for me!”

It makes you want to toss your personal item at her, but you refrain from making too large of a scene in the last place you want to be making a large scene, settling for scratching your nose with your middle finger and offering a rebuttal of “he’s not my boyfriend!”

“Sure babe, see you in a week.” 

Rolling your eyes you walk into the airport. Security and customs are an uncharacteristic breeze, leaving you time to grab another coffee and try to become more of a human before the six hour flight to Michigan. Quinn’s blowing up your phone, the consequence of a three hour time difference and his career requiring many early mornings that yours did not.      

“Quinn’s lucky I love him,” you grumble angrily later, attempting to shove your overstuffed carryon into the overhead bin. The thought gives you pause and you freeze with your hands against the piece of luggage. It’s true, you really do love him. 

Luckily a flight attendant pops up behind you and one well timed shove gets the bag into place and you’re able to continue your moment of crisis in your seat. It’s not like you didn’t know you loved him—he’s your best friend, of course you love him. You love all your friends, freely and openly and purposefully. But you love him love him. Like, wanna wake up with your head on his chest love him, want to plan your future around him love him, want to wear a hideous jean jacket with his name and number on a patch love him. 

Crisis is probably too harsh a word, it’s more of a gentle realization, the slow pulling of a train into a station after a long journey. 

“You love him.”

Startled, you turn to the older woman in the window seat you weren’t willing to pay $50 to switch to. “What?”

“I know that look on your face,” Chatty Cathy continues. “Same one I had on my wedding day.”

Just because you’ve had the realization on your own doesn’t mean you’re ready to have the conversation with someone else. Not Quinn, not Kimmy, not your mom, and definitely not someone else’s grandmother. “I’m just visiting a friend.”

She gives you a knowing look. “No one visits just a friend in Michigan.”

It’s enough to have you putting in your headphones and turning the volume up on your favorite playlist. 

You don’t escape Chatty Cathy after you deplane, she’s right behind you all the way through the terminal. 

There’s a message from Quinn when your phone finally connects to the wifi at  Wayne County Airport that simply states “Here” which leads you to believe he’s probably waiting in his car at the pick up area just outside and so you’re not looking for him as you walk. 

The woman finds who you presume to be her husband first, sinking into an embrace that makes even your cold heart melt a little. 

And then you hear your name being called and Quinn’s standing right in front of you. Realistically it’s been a couple months but it kind of feels like you’re a military wife and your husband has finally returned from war. Abandoning all pretenses, you drop your bags and fling yourself at him. 

He catches you easily with a chuckle in your ear. “Missed you too.”

After what you know is an inappropriate amount of time, you finally disentangle yourself, dragging your hands down from his shoulders to his chest. “You look good, Q.”

Before you can grab your bags, Quinn’s grabbing them with an “I got it.” You follow along like a lost puppy, passing by the woman who raises her eyebrows and smiles. “Who’s that?”

“No one, I just sat by her on the flight.”

He shrugs. “C’mon let’s drop off your bags at home and then my mom really wants to see you.”

-

“You don’t have to help with dishes,” Ellen tells you after supper as she washes a large pot in the sink. 

“My mom raised me better than that,” you laugh, drying the dishes she’s already cleaned. 

“She certainly did.” A pleased smile takes over your face and your stomach warms at her words. “You know, I used to worry about Quinn the most. Jack’s never had issues making his feelings known, and Luke’s still close to home. Plus Jack’s got Dani in Jersey. But my Quinn has always been such a quiet boy with his heart on his sleeve and I worried about him being all alone in another country.” 

“You don’t worry anymore?” you ask, thanking her for handing you the pot. 

“No,” she stops and looks at you. “He has you.”

You don’t quite know how to respond to that, or to tell her that you have him too, so you don’t. 

Quinn enters the kitchen a minute or two later and shoos his mother out. “Let me finish those, mom. You go sit.”

It’s oddly domestic, doing the dishes side by side in his family home. Almost like it was the home you shared together as part of a joint life you’d built. 

Except not, because you can hear his brothers arguing in the next room until their mom shushes them both. 

When you’re finally done with the dishes, there’s a movie set up in the living room, with the only option of seating the small loveseat. 

The look on both Jack and Luke’s faces tells you it was on purpose.

-

Quinn and Jack are both too tired after supper to drive home, and so everyone stays the night in the Hughes’ home. Quinn’s old bedroom became the spare room, and the spare room became a sewing-storage-office room hybrid, and so you find yourself in the same bed as your best friend. 

It’s no big deal, really, you’ve done it before. Just, not before finally giving into the realization that you were in love with him. 

You try to sleep, but your mind and heart are racing. 

“Are you sleeping?” you ask into the darkness. Quinn’s close enough that you could conceivably reach over and touch him, but you keep your hands to yourself. 

“Trying to,” he grumpily grumbles back, bringing a smile to your face. 

Your flip onto your side so that you’re facing him in the dark is far less graceful than you’d planned it to be in your head, but you manage. “Why did you decide to take a class this summer? I’m sure you could have found a million other ways to fill the time.”

It’s quiet for so long that you wonder if he really did fall asleep, until his far more dignified roll over signifies that he’s as awake as you are. “I’m only a couple semesters away from my degree,” he says like it explains everything, and maybe if you were someone else it would. But this is your best friend and you kind of want to know everything about him. 

“I mean, same, but if I was making several mill a year I can’t say that I’d be rushing to finish my degree.”

He’s quiet again and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing again, shoved your whole foot in your mouth when you should have left well enough alone. “I know, but it could all go away in a second. One bad hit, or an accident, or something else outside of my control.”

His tone of voice nearly breaks your heart at the same time as the words he speaks plunges your heart into ice cold water. The thought of Quinn hurt, of him losing everything scares you. “Don’t say that, you’re going to be like Jagr, still playing at 50 years old.”

“I hope not,” he laughs, and it settles the feeling in your chest. When he yanks you closer, it all but dissipates. Tentatively, you sling an arm over his abdomen and rest your head on his chest. 

You mull it all over in your head, distracted by the way he plays with the ends of your hair until you speak up again. “You’re more than hockey, Quinn.” He hums out a non-committal answer and you figure humor is the way to move forward. “Besides, you can always just bum off Jack and Luke.”

He tugs on your hair in response, but doesn’t say anything else. 

-

“Ta-da!” 

Jack’s a real smart ass from the backseat that he’d insisted on sitting in as Quinn pulls into the driveway of a very nice house. House might be putting it lightly, as a kid you’d called this kind of residence a McMansion. 

“Shit this is nice,” is your initial reaction. 

It makes Quinn smile, which is exactly what you were going for. “It’s alright.”

You shove him and then unbuckle your seatbelt. “Shut up.”

The grand tour Jack promised is pretty lackluster, a handful of guest rooms that mean you won’t have a bed buddy tonight, a kitchen you’re certain neither of them have used on their own and enough bathrooms that you don’t have to worry about how long Jack takes to do his hair in the morning. 

There is one door that catches your attention. It’s one of the only ones that is shut, and when Jack shakes the handle it doesn’t budge. “This is where Quinn keeps dead bodies.” 

Quinn’s somewhere else in the house but he hears all the same and shouts back, “I don’t keep dead bodies!”

Jack nods solemnly and stage whispers, “That’s actually true, they’re buried in the backyard under the pool.”

Super human hearing Quinn shouts again, “there are no dead bodies!”

You roll your eyes but continue the tour until you end up in the living room where Quinn’s reclined in the lazy boy, texting. It’s too tempting to pass up, and so you plop on the arm of the chair and peer over his shoulder. “What’s Petey up to?”

He drops his phone quickly, a blush beginning to form at the top of his ears. “Wasn’t Petey.” It’s a strange reaction, one that has you suspicious—not that you have a reason to be. But if it wasn’t Elias then who? Was it a girl? The thought makes your stomach hurt. 

Shoving down the conflicted feelings, you ruffle his hair a little to be a nuisance until he slaps your hand away. “What’s in the locked room Quinn?”

“Nothing.”

You poke him hard in the upper arm once, then twice. “Don’t make me poke it out of you.” 

It institutes a little poking war that has you giggling until Jack breaks it up. “Get a room, you two.”

It’s a little awkward then, and so you slide off the chair’s arm. “I’m gonna go change and then lounge by the pool if anyone wants to join.”

As you walk away, you hear the unmistakable sound of a slap and then Quinn’s voice muttering “Idiot.”

-

The week flies by way too fast. Between meeting all Quinn’s friends and drinking them under the table, spending time with his family, and being shown around the places that meant so much to him. It has you wishing you’d found a way to make two weeks work, but it had been hard enough getting your shifts covered for the time you were here. 

“Quit your job and stay here,” Quinn tells you when you say as much. 

Huffing, you move from laying on the deck chair to lean on your elbows so that you can glare at him. It’s a moot point, since your sunglasses are covering your eyes anyway. “Quit being stupid. Some of us have tuition and bills to pay.”

“I could pay your bills,” he says quietly. Sincerely, even. 

His gentle disposition is no match for your sarcasm, however. “Oh yeah? And what would I have to do in return? Be your kept woman? Do your laundry? No thanks.” Although, the thought of returning to school in the fall while balancing your jobs means the idea isn’t as horrific as it could be. Plus you’re pretty sure Quinn’s one of the least disgusting people you know…

“Nah, we can hire out someone to do the cleaning.”

You relax back into your chair because frankly your upper arms were getting sore. “Okay so in this hypothetical scenario, you’re gonna share your vast fortune with me with nothing expected in return?”

“Yep pretty much.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Maybe.”

Lounging around doing nothing gets boring as the sun beats down on you both. It’s your last day in Michigan and you kind of don’t want it to ever end. 

“Let’s go for a drive?” you blurt out impulsively. 

“Okay.”

Quinn takes you for the highlight reel, showing you around various places that mean something to him, including a stop at his parents so you can say your proper goodbye to them and Luke. 

And then you end up at a cozy little diner where you order a large fry to share and two milkshakes. 

“You’ve got a little something right there,” he says, pointing to the corner of his mouth. “Nope, you missed it. Still missing it.” 

It takes you a full minute to realize he’s messing with you. “Shut up!” you laugh and kick him under the table. He captures your leg, pinning it between his own, nonchalantly picking at the fries on the table while you visibly struggle to free yourself. “Jerk!”

“I like having you here,” Quinn admits a beat or two later. 

The dramatic indignation leaves your body at his admission and you slump a little in the booth. “I like being here… jerk.”

He smiles, but doesn’t let your leg go and for some reason you don’t seem to mind. 

When the bill comes, he’s a lot faster to slap down his credit card than you are. Probably because you were expecting them to bring a machine that you could use your card at rather than let a random stranger take your credit card to the back for whatever nefarious purposes they so chose. 

The debate of the security of tap versus having your credit card taken from you carries over from the table into the car, and by the time you get back to Quinn’s, you’re satisfied you’ve won this round. 

“I don’t want to go to bed yet, if I go to sleep the morning will come quick,” you say softly when Quinn asks if you’re headed to bed when you get back. 

“Yeah, I know.” He’s quiet again, an inner conflict raging across his face until, “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

It’s like you know before he’s even led you towards the stairs that you’re finally going to see what’s going on in the locked room. “Are you about to show me your dead bodies, Quintin?”

His exasperated sigh is more fond than annoyed, “There are no dead bodies!” When he pushes the door open, you quickly come to realize it’s a makeshift painting room, with various colored paints scattered around the room and a sheet covering the floor. At the far end of the room lies an easel with a finished painting set on it. 

“She’s beautiful, Quinn,” you say, taking a step closer to admire the artwork in front of you. You barely manage to stop yourself from trailing the delicate lines of her face with your fingers. 

“She’s you,” he admits shyly, head ducked down and rose flush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. “You’re beautiful.”

“I didn’t know you saw me that way,” you whisper, eyes locked on the physical representation of Quinn’s vision of you. 

“You never asked.”

Finally you tear your eyes away from the canvas, spinning around to face him. “Quinn—“

“It’s not—I don’t expect anything from you or anything. It’s the final project for my class. I didn’t tell you I was taking an art class at first because I was worried it wouldn’t work out, but then we were given our assignments and the final project was to paint something you, well, something you love.”

You say his name again but he keeps talking, almost a man possessed as if he can’t stop the words from falling from his tongue. 

“I love you, like, Capital L love you. I have for a long time. Maybe since the night we met, I don’t know. One conversation and I knew you were it for me. But, like I said before, I don’t expect any—“

You can’t take it anymore, you’re impossibly endeared to this man and his awkward rambling and his slightest hint of a lisp, and you press your lips to his. 

Quinn doesn’t reciprocate at first, frozen in place and so you wait, counting the seconds until he finally moves, gripping your face in his hands and kissing you like he means it. 

-

You don’t stop kissing. 

You kiss and you kiss and you kiss; that night you kiss as you strip each other of your clothes, the next morning you kiss morning breath and all when you wake up together. You kiss over breakfast and you kiss at red lights on the way to the airport and at departures. 

“Stay,” he says, kissing you again much to the displeasure of the pretty college coed who’d asked for a photo and his autograph not five minutes ago. You lean into it, tilting your head and sliding your hand through the hair at the base of his neck. 

“Can’t,” you reply when you pull back. “Bills to pay, remember?”

“Let me take care of it for you.”

“As if.” You laugh and pat his cheek. “I gotta go, I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Love you.”

The words are enough to have him let you go, but not before reciprocating and one last, lingering kiss. He stands to the side with his hands in his pockets, determined to watch you leave until he can’t see you anymore. 

“Told you so,” a voice sounds from behind you in the security line. 

Spinning around you see Chatty-although-not-incorrect Cathy. There’s no mistaking the look on your face this time, no amount of deflecting would ever be seen as anything less than extreme deception and so you shrug. “Guess you did.”

[bunnys-kisses]

attention bunny nation!! i want to hop (ha) on here and thank ya'll for the support and prompts! (please keep 'em comin')! i want to let everyone know that from july 22nd till july 28th i will be not as active on the blog. mostly bakery prompt posts will slow down for the week!

i realized that i now have an audience for my work and i have been uploading daily the past little while, so i wanted to make sure that no one was alarmed that i all of a sudden stop posting for a few days.

basically, like a bunch of my friends are coming to visit me for a week and as a result i will be farther away from my phone than usual! i am trying to stock a bit of a queue for the week just so ya'll are not left without. i know that everyone has been loving the bakery prompts and i didn't just want to fall off the face of the earth!

posts will resume after the 28th! my prompt submissions will be active so if you want to submit orders for fics, please feel free! i love seeing what ya'll are sending! it's just that the reply rate will be a tad slower!

i've also made it my tagline on my blog so no one forgets! until then i will still keep posting! happy friday everyone! <3

[natureismynature]

Hello hello hello again good people of Tumblr!! I am here today to give ya'll some updates on the QSMP Discord Lore Server!

So far, we've made a LOT of progress! Our team has been giving this server a lot of love and we're very excited to show you all what we have <3

But unfortunately tho, we're gonna have to push back making the server public to another week for now to take off some pressure on our loreheads. Since we only have one Lorehead for all the Brazilians, it's been very difficult to keep up with them, so do please bear with us TvT

That being said, we're still very open for anyone who wants to be a lorehead for characters! Mainly for the Brazilians and the Spanish speaking streamers. If you're interested, feel free to reply/reblog/slide into my dms!

That's it from me today fellas, see ya next update!

[xx-akubara-xx]

500 followers!!!

Ya'll deserve something sweet. (And I need a break from drawing tunnels- LET ME BACK OUT IN THE LIGHT-) Please feel free to drop cute Bowuigi prompts in the replies! I'll pick one and draw it for ya'll <3

(And feel free to drop more than one!)

[kaengeru]

HELLO! yes, i am not dead! my brain hasnt been able to focus on art or writing currently, but i have been lurking

due to my own hubris (in overextending myself) and the unfortunate ai creep (which isnt threatening so much as exhausting) im gonna be withdrawing a lot of myself to posting almost exclusively on this nifty little site im still in the progress of completing. i will cross-post between onto tumblr. MAYBE twitter. but thats about it. gonna focus on putting everything together

i will - once my brain gets back into the groove for it - work on replies, but i just. cant jump into another social media site. im tired. ive been tired for a while, honestly - which can be attributed to me being in my thirties as well lol. the internets a fun place but its not suppose to take more work than something i get paid to do

also ive been wanting to slowly wean myself off the Internet for a while so at least i have more motivation now than ever to actually start doing it

ive been intending to make this post for a while, though with more ic information. hopefully ill be able to complete all that ehh eventually (its not necessary to give enya a reason to be around less but there will be one that ive been working on for way too long)

feel free to message me, be it to chat or come up with some thread ideas. im happy to do so!

you can find me here (@kaengeru) / @limlnal as well as @thylacoleocarn - these will be your best bet twitter too but not super active discord is thyla#4699 (i think??) but im way more spacey at being there and thylacoleocarn.neocities once again c:

ya'll have been (and continue to be) super awesome and wish u all the best in ur own goals <3

[dollyyun]

OMG HI RUBY, YOU'RE BACK! I'm hope you're feeling better! Please feel free to take time off when you need it!

I've been offline for a while so I just saw your replies 😅

First off, I'm happy to be your ⭐️nonie!

Second of all, I totally understand what it's like to be a people pleaser (I grew up in an Asian household too). Sometimes, even as much as you want to break free from it, it's been ingrained in us since young to always try and please everyone around us but don't be scared to take things one at a time. Sometimes moving at your own pace will achieve better results so try not to care too much about what others say! 🖤

Also, while I'm here, I saw this thread on IG about Enhypen's "Brough the Heat Back" (since the MV just came out) and I wanted to upload the photo here but anons can't upload :( so I'll just insert the text here.

"Similar to how animals get in heat, it happens to vampires too but only every four years or so, and it lasts for a few weeks to a month. This occurs in males and females, this is basically the only time they can reproduce."

Definitely not how I was expecting Engenes to intepret the song 👀 but since you're good friends with @ja3yun I felt like this would be great inspo for ya'll bc I think either of you lovely writers could easily slay this concept.

OKI BYE LOVE YOU, @ja3yun if you see this, love you too, Doll House and Melting Point were chef's kiss ✨️🤌🏻

- ⭐️nonie

hii my dearest ⭐️ nonie <333 yes, i'm doing better now thanks to all of your support and kind words🙏🏻i'll be pacing myself with writing too. i hope you're doing well my dearest <33

as for the people pleaser part, you are more than right. I don't think i'll break free from it anytime soon, but i hope that i'll be free one day and that my feelings are no longer being invalidate <3

omg yes i saw that thread except on twitter and it made my jaw dropped, because wdym vampires go through heat too🧍🏻‍♀️(not that i'm opposed to it)

actually i do have a somewhat concept like this, which is my wip vampire academy series, though it isn't entirely focused on them being in heat💀but i think enha's teeth resonates more to the series🫶🏻

also yay! bestie mentioned! i could not agree more nonie <3 she really has a gift for writing and can totally ace any concepts! i devour anything she delivers honestly. @ja3yun what do you think of the inspo?👀🤭

[recurring-polynya]

I have nothing to ask. Just came to say I'm in love with Renji and Renji/Rukia ship which has reignited my Bleach love and I appreciate ya'll very very much. Thank you<3

It's an exciting time to be a fan, with the new anime back! The current Renruki sub-fandom is fairly small and quiet, but everyone is very nice, and we're lucky to have some very talented people. The TYBW was such a great arc both for Renji and Renruki as a tag team, I've been really optimistic that we'll get some new and returning fans (maybe even...some new fanfic writers??? or artists? hope springs eternal!! I'm also just happy to have people bring their enthusiasm and wonderful selves) In other words, welcome!!! We're so glad you're here!!!

For you and any other new Renruki shippers that might be reading this, I hope you know that we are just spinning up plans for a Renruki week in January. You can follow @renrukiweek (and RenrukiWeek on Twitter) We're currently running some interest polls for prompts, and we'd love to get your input.

We've also got a Renruki Discord server. It's very chill, and a good opportunity to get sneak peaks at fanfic and fanart or to gush about an AU you've got in mind. We've even got a baking channel if you need advice on your pie crust or want to show off your buttercream piping. [Note: Discord invite links expire, so if this post if more than a week old, feel free to DM me or reply to this post for a fresh one]

[faebhaal]

if I'm ever slow replying to things, please don't ever take it personally! I'm v old & tired and sometimes the inspiration is low. but!! I always like to interact with posts & send bunches of memes. on the opposite end, never feel obligated to answer anything or everything I've sent you. and if you ever wanna hmu for plotting or bullshitting, pls feel free to IM me! i'm very grateful for what bit of interest I've gotten in Ithaca and can't thank ya'll enough for your patience! <3

[sugar-plum-writer]

:-> Intro of myself + links! <-:

Masterlist * Rules for asks

Thank you so much for more than a 100 followers~ I am so happy you all liked my works!! <3 hence I have decided to do a short intro of myself and even opened my asks!

Who am I?: Nice to meet you all~ you can call me Alys, I am 19, and currently in college. I don't really know the rules here for intros! soooo I am just writing whatever~

My interests: I like anime, manga, webtoon, manhwa, webnovels, k-drama, movies, plays, digital art I can draw a bit~ + I also like to read classic literature and I like to study philosophy as a pass time! I like to do embroidery, write poetry, I don't have much restrictions on what I read but my favorite is Literature that messes up my brain like "No Longer human" etc

Things I am into right now: I really like jjk [it's my favorite series of alllll time my no 1 series <3], Belladona of sadness, Lain, Monokone, Dororo, Kongming [Another of my fav!], Todomachi game, Nobless [Regis father is so hot~], BNHA, Perfect Blue, Parasyte, Juni Ito collections, Doctor stone, One punch Man, Millionaire detective, Black butler, Food wars, Demon Slayer, Blue Lock and much more the list is tooo long haha! whatever series you have read I have probably read it also~

Music I like: Honestly I don't really have a particular artist I listen to, whatever I like I just listen to it on repeat sometimes for days on end! I listen to NF, Lana Del Rey, "Mr. Sunshine" - by Arden Jones, Mili, Seori, and many more it's too long haha

Other things: I am quite an open and easy-going person, I like to talk a lot, I procrastinate A LOT [I still have 3 assigments pending and it's end of sem] , my sleep schedule is horrible I sometimes don't sleep for days on end, I will block the spam bots, I might not always be able to reply if anyone DM's me so yeah sorry about that! TvT. But I look forward to having fun~ and writing more!!!

Here is a link to my masterlist ya'll!!! feel free to check out my works~ I've only written jjk Sukuna and Gojo for now LOL~

[abrushwithdeath]

((I'm gonna be on a little bit tomorrow, finally. Hopefully ^^; I apologize for being gone a lot lately. Admittedly, not only has work been stressful but I'm having some health issues, as well. So it's just been... a lot this year, already. I miss being here, though, and I've got a lot of muse for Roguey lately, just no time to do stuff. But after this week I'm finally on vacation!!! Which means I'll be around while I'm off work (from the 10th to the 17th) <3

With that said, feel free to send some more asks or tap me with a message if you want a specific thread replied to quicker <3

I hope ya'll are doing well! Take care of yourselves and I'll see ya'll soon <3))

[natureismynature]

More updates on the QSMP Discord Lore Server!

We have more loreheads! Yay!! For characters, currently we have Tubbo (2), Foolish (3), Fit (1), Philza (1), BBH (1), Jaiden (1), Tina (1), and all the French streamers (1). For groups and general lore we have Morning Crew (1) and General (3). We need more French, Brazilian, and Spanish loreheads friends, we're gonna need Major help with the Brazilians fkvsskvs

Aaand we have one discord mod! Two if we include me... we're gonna need as much help as we can guys TvT

Again, if you're interested in helping but is hesitant because you already see your main streamer having multiple loreheads, that's okay! The more the merrier <3 and it will make it easier for us to keep track of their lore :D And if you want, you can always be a lorehead for multiple characters!

As always, if you want to help, feel free to reply/reblog/slide into my dms! (I'd contact known loreheads in here, but I don't wanna be presumptuous, y'know? T^T)

On a side note, I apologize if it's gonna take a while to get this server up and running, I won't be able to even start prepping till Wednesday because work's kicking my ass kdvsksb

Anyways, see ya'll next update!

[monstatart]

I posted 174 times in 2022

That's 174 more posts than 2021!

66 posts created (38%)

108 posts reblogged (62%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dreamietube

@ninefoldrin

@slash-gallagher

@torstenerikssonvt

@wonydoli

I tagged 71 of my posts in 2022

#vtuber - 51 posts

#envtuber - 37 posts

#vtuberuprising - 26 posts

#vtuber uprising - 26 posts

#vtubers - 17 posts

#vtubestudio - 15 posts

#vtube model - 12 posts

#vtubesona - 11 posts

#taurokyun - 9 posts

#vtuberen - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#deadass how i argue for fun with my friend and my other friend just watches us like a bunch of toddlers

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

My schedule for this week! Socials and Commissions: https://monstatart.carrd.co/

7 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#4

Hey Vtubers!

Describe your lore in 5 words either in replies or reblogs

10 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

#3

Idk about ya'll but ever since the 3rd grade Amu Hinamori has always been my dream fashion aesthetic.

I will try to wear all of her outfits one day

29 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#2

Sakurai I swear

83 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Hey Vtubers, tell me something you like about tumblr so far?

I'll go first:

-typing more words

-can edit posts without deleting

-customizable blogs for pc ver

☆Feel free to Reblog so this post can grow! I want to follow more Vtubers☆

100 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[forstealys-blog]

Okay Anna! You got this. Born ready.

Her mind a swirling of thoughts, the spirited redhead grinned, her eyes narrowing in on her goal. Three large barrels set at carefully constructed angles. They mocked her - practically taunted her to just try and beat her previous record. The girl stiffened, her smirk intensifying, and she steadied herself on Kjekk, who snorted loudly. She was ready, too. Anna could feel it. Like she and her horse shared one soul or something. There wasn’t another way to say it, the two were best friends. And best friends helped each other beat their barrel racing times! 

Go!

With two swift kicks, Anna and Kjekk pushed off, tearing straight towards the middle barrel. Turning and leaning, the pair narrowly shaved off the first barrel in almost an instant. Anna’s heart was racing as fast as it dared. There was nothing nothing more thrilling than running top speed on a horse. Nothing in all the world. She was flying around these barrels -- first the middle, then they spun around and headed for the left. In executing the turn, Anna felt Kjekk spring forward, almost as if daring Anna to deny them a victory. 

Anna kicked again and Kjekk shot towards the final barrel like a bullet from a gun. That final turn was harder -- a complete shift in direction while your horse really starts to run -- and Anna realized a moment too late that they weren’t going to make it.  Nevermind not hitting the barrels -- Anna had leaned the wrong way. She’d been so caught up in the feeling of galloping that fast that she’d misstepped. Her body went one way and Kjekk when the other. The redhead was pulled from the saddle by the force of the turn, and the only sound she could even get out was a rather silly-sounding, “Whooaahhh!” and then a resounding, “Oooof!” when she landed. 

“Oh that was...really graceful,” She mumbled to herself from the ground. Thankfully, it was 8:00 am -- hopefully, that would ensure nobody was around to see that.

[etherealperrie]

HEARTFIRST {pt. VII}

– In which a trip down to the San Diego Naval base  to visit an old friend turns out to be more than a simple reunion, as the reader finds herself in the presence of an infuriating, cocky blonde and an old flame she thought had long fizzled out. –

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Contains: Bi!Natasha | Reader is old friends with Natasha “Phoenix” Trace | Reader has a past with Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw” | Reader has a lot of feelings about Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Warnings: lots of angst this time around ya'll, explicit language, references to drinking/alcohol & sexual activity

A/N: Part seven! Omg! Tag-list is at the bottom, go ahead and send me a message or reply to this post if you'd like to be added for future parts of this story. Most importantly, I hope you enjoy! Also hope you forgive me for the angst here lol <3 If you'd like to go back and read part 1, you can do that here. Or, read part 2. Or 3. Or 4. Or 5. Or 6. Also, check out my playlists for the dynamic of each guy & reader, you can do that here: Hangman x Reader & Rooster x Reader

...

7:

The room is dark when you wake. You’re not sure what time it is; whether you’ve been asleep for hours or mere minutes. You shift under the covers, or, you try to. You’re locked in place, something heavy draped over your torso. Lifting your head off the pillow, you see Jake splayed out, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle, your back pressed against Jake’s chest, his head inches from your own, his mouth hanging open as he breathes. 

Shit. 

You shimmy underneath him, trying to wiggle free from his grasp. You could get out of here and back to Natasha before anyone woke. Sighing, you kick your leg out from underneath the covers and over the edge of the bed, hoping it might give you some leverage to escape Jake’s grasp. Straining, you feel Jake’s arm constrict around you. He stirs, humming to himself as he tugs you back into him. Escaping, turns out, is easier said than done. 

“Hangman,” you breathe, moving your hand to where his rests on your stomach, pulling at his fingers. “Let go.” 

A loud sigh fills the room followed by a yawn. He shifts his weight but keeps his grasp on you. Rolling your eyes, you take another deep breath. You move under the covers and under his arm, turning over onto your other side to get a look at him. His eyes are still closed, feigning sleep, but there’s a smug smile on his lips. It’s only then when you realize how close your face is to his, your nose an inch or less from touching his.

“Jake, come on, let go.”

“Can’t. Too comfy. Too early,” he groans. 

“I, uh, have to pee,” you lie. 

He chuckles lightly and loosens his grip on you, giving you just enough room to slip out from underneath him and out of the bed. Jake sighs and stretches out, his muscles flexing under the covers, his eyes on you in the morning darkness. Shivering, you tug on the pants you left on the floor the night before, doing up the zipper and button. You collect your t-shirt and bra, sliding out of Jake’s sweatshirt and into both of them. The last thing you needed was to be caught in another pilot’s sweatshirt; wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. Laughing to yourself you fold the sweatshirt and lay it across the foot of the bed, catching Jake’s eyes as you do so. He looks as if he might say something, might ask you why you changed or might offer to let you keep it, but he only yawns. 

Your eyes connect one last time before you leave the room, stepping out into the hallway. 

The clock inside the common room catches your eye as you pass by – 3:47am.

Natasha and the rest of the pilots would be up in a couple of hours for training. You consider heading back to her room but think better of it, knowing she’d need her sleep to get ahead of the hangover she’d definitely have in the morning. Besides, she’s under the impression you’re with Bradley. If only she really knew where you’d been, how the night progressed for you. Shaking your head you cross into the common room – a place you found yourself all too often and the epicenter of virtually all of your problems – and snuggle into the couch. You tug the throw blanket draped over the back of the leather down onto your lap and exhale, throwing your head back over the edge of the couch. 

Your eyes fall shut, the empty room disappearing, images of Jake flooding your mind. The subtle rise and fall of his chest as he laid in bed this morning, the feeling of his arm draped around your torso and the way it sent the butterflies in your stomach fluttering. His soft blonde hair messy against the pillow as he turned onto his side, his cocky yet reassuring smile as he handed you his sweatshirt. The way his face softened when he opened up to you, listened to your past. Fuck, Hangman. 

The vision of his lush, spring green eyes is the last thing you remember.

Radio static disrupts your image of him, the vision of Jake dissipating before you as you reach out for him, your mind waking, your body coming back to life. The noise continues, echoing through the little common room, voices coming in between the static popping. 

Sitting up, fighting off sleep, you glance around the room, your eyes landing on a small, industrial looking radio sitting on a side table in the corner underneath the large bay windows overlooking the tarmac. The radio pops and cracks one last time before the voices on the other end come through loud and clear. 

“Rooster, jesus, what the fuck were you thinking?” A man’s voice you don’t recognize comes through first, but your heart sinks at the mention of Bradley. Your eyes flicker to the clock – 8:52am. Flight training. 

“Are you trying to get us killed?” Natasha’s exasperated voice echoes through the room next. You can tell she’s exhausted. They all are. It’s clear that tensions are high. 

“You told me not to think, Mav!” Bradley shouts, his voice crackling as it comes through the speaker. 

“Same old Rooster,” Hangman cuts in, scoffing. “Can’t commit. Not to the mission, not on the ground.”

You suck in a breath, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and traipsing over to the radio. Looking out the window, you turn your face to the sky, wondering if you might see them, but the sky is empty. Something pulls at your chest and you wonder, for a moment, if the tug is from Bradley or Jake. 

“Do you have something to say, Hangman?” Bradley’s voice cuts in again and you turn back to the radio. You can imagine the look on Bradley’s face now as he speaks, that defiant scowl present on his brow. 

“Keep making your mistakes, Rooster. They only benefit me in the end.” You can hear the smugness in Jake’s voice, practically see his one-sided, prideful smile. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Lieutenant, enough,” the unfamiliar voice warns. 

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Fail this training and I get your spot on the mission. Keep fucking up on land, too, and you’ll just push your girl right into me instead.” 

Your stomach drops as Jake speaks. The way he’s using last night, everything you told him about your past with Bradley, to mess with his head doesn’t sit well with you. You don’t like being leveraged. Not as you were just beginning to think Hangman could be more than his callsign. Not when you were just starting to like him. Or, rather, admit to yourself that you like him. It’s a punch to the gut, but a confirmation more than anything else – Hangman was just as cocky and self-serving as everyone made him out to be. Callsigns ring true.

“You son of a bitch,” Bradley sneers. 

“Lieutenant, I said enough.” 

“He’s not cut out for this mission. You know it. You know I’m right.”

“You’re all dismissed.”

The radio clicks off in the next second, dead air filling the room. You sink down to the floor by the window, tugging the blanket closer to your body, exhaling loudly. This is exactly what you didn’t want. You wanted to be here for Natasha, see her again, have a little bit of fun. You didn’t expect any of this, to become a distraction again, Bradley already loathed you for that. Sure, Bradley fucked up, you’re upset with him, but his silence over the radio is deafening. If you know him, you know he’s beating himself up right now, going into self-defense mode, throwing himself deeper into work as a way to escape, desperate to prove himself. And Jake. Fucking Jake. It was stupid, to have wedged yourself between the two of them, even if it was all accidental. Even if somewhere, in that accident, you’d developed feelings you couldn’t name but wanted to follow. Not anymore, though. 

You had to leave. It wouldn’t do any good to stay, it’s not your place. It was a mistake to stay as long as you did, to pretend like everything was normal in the midst of some of the most intense training of these pilots' lives. It was selfish, really, to assume you could be at the center of all of this. You’d collect your things and bow out before things got worse, you’d let Bradley and Jake make amends and refocus on their shared mission. They’d train, complete whatever this mission required, and make it back alive, that’s what really mattered.

You’d have left earlier if it weren’t for Natasha. You couldn’t leave without saying goodbye to her, not after you’d just rekindled your friendship and certainly not after she’d put up with everything you’d done during your few short days here. It didn’t take long to pack your things: after all, you hadn’t come with much to begin with. 

“Hey, there you are! How was last night?” Natasha sings as she rounds the corner into her room. Surprisingly, she’s smiling and you wonder if it’s genuine or an act she’s putting on not knowing you’d heard how tense this morning’s training really was. Perhaps she’s truly excited to hear about your night. Too bad that was a disappointment, too. Her smile quickly fades as she stops at the foot of her bed, a few steps from you, taking in the scene before her. Your duffle bag is stuffed to the brim, the zipper done up sitting on the bed beside you. Her eyes flicker between you and the bag, her brow furrowed. “You going somewhere?” she asks. 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head home a couple days early.” 

“What? Why?” She shakes her head and closes the space between you, sitting down next to you. Her eyes widened. “Did something bad happen last night with Rooster?” 

“No,” you sigh. “Well, yeah, but that’s not why I can’t stay. I just think it’s a bad idea for me to be here right now. You guys are so busy with training and I’m just a distraction, it’s not fair for me t-” 

“Who said you’re a distraction?” Natasha interrupts. “I love having you here! I’m sure the guys do too.” 

You hold a hand up and shake your head. Time to come clean. “Tash, I heard Jake and Bradley on the radio this morning in the common room.” 

Natasha exhales a breath, humming in partial understanding. She nods, knowing you knew tensions were high. She no longer has to pretend. You continue. 

“Last night Bradley kissed someone else. I don’t know why, but I did, too.” You glance at her and decide to confess. “It was Hangman. Again. It didn’t get too far, thanks to you.” She looks at you, confused, her eyes dropping to the floor as if trying to remember. A second later, her face lights up. 

“Oh my god you were in that stall…with Hangman…”

You nod. “We didn’t do anything, I realized it was a mistake and stopped it after that. But then he offered to drive me back and I wound up in his room and we talked and I told him everything – about me and Bradley.”

“Shit,” she groans. “That explains why they were so at each other’s throats this morning.” 

“The worst part,” you choke, suddenly trying to hold back tears you didn’t expect, “is that I like him.” Natasha’s brow softens. She scoots closer to you and drapes an arm over your shoulder. Instinctively, you rest your head in the crook of her neck, grateful for her friendship. “But when I heard him say those things, just to mess with Bradley, I-” 

“Hey,” Natasha coos, “it’s okay.”  

Sniffling, you lift your head from her shoulder and force a smile. “Is Bradley okay?” 

Her lips press into a hard line, her eyes darting away from your gaze. Your stomach drops. 

“He’s okay, he’s just – you know – in his head. It’s a lot going on: you, the mission. But you’re the only one who can get to him, you know that.” 

You groan, “Tash this is exactly what I wanted to avoid. I knew seeing Bradley would be too much.” 

“I know, but you can’t just leave now, what good would running do?” 

“He’ll forget about me, just like he did before. He’ll be able to focus.” 

She shakes her head. “Even if that did work, which we both know it won’t, what about Hangman?” 

“What about him?” you scoff. 

“He’s an asshole, trust me, I know. But I think you’ll regret not seeing him through. I think you’ll regret a lot of things if you just leave now.” 

Natasha’s right. It’s spineless to leave, benefitting no one. You don’t know what you want, but what you do know is that you owe it to yourself (and to Bradley and even Jake) to try and find out. 

“I hate when you’re right,” you say, your voice low. Natasha just smiles. 

A shadow stretches across the hallway, pulling both of your attention as a figure rounds the corner knocking rhythmically on the doorframe. Jake comes into view, his head high, smiling. 

“Thought I might find you here,” he says nonchalantly. He rests into his hip against the doorframe and crosses his arms. His eyes move between you and Natasha, not sure how much she knew or how much he should reveal. Your stomach drops but your heartbeat quickens its pace at the sight of him. 

“Well I’ve been told on multiple occasions that I shouldn’t be in the common room, so…” your voice trails off. Jake chuckles, amused by what he assumes is  your small effort at a joke, completely unaware that you’re upset with him. How could he know? Last he saw, you were in his bed, your eyes lingering on one another as you dressed yourself: a lover’s stare. 

“Oh shoot,” Natasha interrupts, rising from the bed. She drops your hand and you groan, knowing she was about to leave you alone with Jake. Talk about a Hangman. “I’m supposed to meet with Bob about that thing, I’ll see you guys later.” She leaves the room in a hurry and then there were two: you and Jake. 

He pushes himself off the door and crosses the small room, eager to close the space between you. Crashing down onto the bed, he props himself up on his elbow and looks at you, still smiling. You remain in your spot, arms crossed, your thumb rubbing circles into the skin of your bicep as you process your thoughts, your mind flicking from anger to disappointment to lust and back around with rapid speed. He looks gorgeous – his tan skin somehow glowing under the fluorescent lights of the bedroom – not run down or tired, as if the competition and the training for this mission was fueling him rather than draining him. 

“What do you want, Jake?” you ask, breaking the silence. His eyes lift from where they’d settled on your chest, flashing up to meet yours. His smile drops a half-inch as he notices the indifference in your voice accompanied by the harsh line between your brows. It’s not the reaction nor the tone he expected from you after last night. Regardless, he carries on, clearing his throat, flashing his bright smile once again. Your heart flutters at the sight, but you quell the feeling, placing a hand over your chest, hoping the pressure might be enough to hold it down. It’s not. 

It is in that moment, as he opens his mouth to speak, that your phone chimes, lighting up in the little pocket on the outside of your duffle bag. You know it’s just an email alert so you ignore it, your attention still focused on Jake. He, however, takes notice of the large bag sitting on the other side of you for the first time, a look of puzzlement crossing his face as his head tilts dramatically to the right. 

“Are you leaving?” He sounds hurt, his voice low, his eyes shifting between you and the bag.  

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?” 

You just nod. “I think I’m a distraction.” Exhaling a breath, you shift in your seat, knotting your fingers together. “And you guys have bigger things to be focused on right now, you leave in a matter of days.”

Jake smirks, any ounce of what you thought may be sadness suddenly absorbed and turned into another plate of his hard exterior. It might be easier to ask him to take it off, to remind him that you’d both already shed that last night, if you weren’t fighting your feelings towards him. 

“I happen to love a little distraction,” he boasts. 

“Right,” you scoff. Your skin prickles at his words and you’re talking before you have a chance to think about what to say. “Because they don’t really mean anything to you! You just see them as points on some scoreboard – something that’ll benefit you in the end.” 

Jake sits up, his eyes wide, surprised to be faced with his own words from earlier. Words he didn’t know you heard. 

“What are you talking about?” he half shouts. “I-”  

“Save it, Jake. I heard you talking to Bradley on the radio: you’ll get ‘the mission and the girl,’ right?” The words spill out of your mouth, a dam that hadn’t just cracked under the pressure, but fully fractured, water rushing out into the open, flooding the streets. You can’t stop it, so you don’t try. “You know, I confided in you last night because I trusted you, believed you might actually be a good guy! Then to hear you throw all of that into Bradley’s face in front of everyone…for what? For the glory of getting this mission? To leverage me? For the satisfaction of beating Bradley?” 

“Hey, I didn’t know you were listening,” he reasons. 

You push yourself up off the bed, your skin hot, heat rising from the pit of your stomach up into your chest and neck, licking at your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter that I was listening, Jake.” The words somehow manage to come out calmly, your voice in no way reflecting the anger bubbling under your skin. Sighing, you continue. “What matters is that I confided in you because I thought you – thought that maybe we could be…” 

He rises from the bed, too, as if trying to close the space between you, but you take a step back. Hurt flashes across his face and he sucks in a breath, his eyes dropping to the floor. A few moments ago he looked ever the golden boy, but now he appears tired, the lines around his mouth prevalent as he tries to stop himself from frowning. 

“Don’t you want to know why I was looking for you?” he questions, looking back at you. His eyes are soft, his brows loosely knit together, his pink lips hanging open just slightly as he breathes. For a second you want to say yes, give him the benefit of the doubt like your heart so desperately begs, tugging at you, urging you to say something, anything.  

“It doesn’t matter, Jake. Like you said, you’re good for a night.” You take another step away from him and he sighs, watching you grab your jacket from the hook on the back of the door. You slip into it and reach for the handle, yanking the door open. “And it was…one good night.”

...

Tag List: @arianna-bradshaw @n3ssm0nique @blue-aconite @supernaturaldawning @revolution-starter @saramaple @bittergomez @coco-loco-nut @unluckymonaghan @jointherebellion215 @supernaturalstuff83 @kkrenae @littlebear423 @shadeds-library

A/N: I genuinely cannot believe we made it to part 7 (and by we, I mean me bc I've never been this motivated to write or finish a story before) -- I hope you all are liking it, I'm so sorry for all the angst here but we needed some conflict baybeee!! This was a bit of a challenge to write & this chapter went through MANY iterations of itself, but here we are :) As always I'd super appreciate any thoughts if ya wanna leave them here or chat in my asks <333333

[mentalillnessmouse]

(pt 1) tw: alcohol, suicide, abusive parenting? After 7+ years of having undiagnosed PTSD / anxiety / severe depression I've started seeing a therapist. I'm 100% open to taking meds (partially bc of medicatedandmighty thx to all ya'll) and she has suggested it. Unfortunately I'm legally an adult but still financially dependent on my parents. They called me the other day and said that if I start taking anything other that the "very occasional Xanx" then I'll be cut off.

(pt 2) Because “everyone has anxiety” and they’re “mind altering” and I couldn’t be “properly monitored.” Also that Xanx is basically like beer so maybe I should just have that. And that its good my therapist is free (though my Uni) bc otherwise I might not be able to go. I’m so angry and I don’t know what to do. I’ve recently admitted to myself that my father was/is abusive (for other reasons) but I never considered my mom and I always thought she was kind of my rock and I’m scared and lost.

(pt 3) Shes been in therapy before, shes been on meds before and so has my father. She knows how bad it has been for me bc I actually pour my heart out to her about most of my life and she knows I tried to kill myself and it feels like she is deliberately denying me things I need (or need to try) to get better. Or maybe I’m wrong? What do I do? plz advise and thank you for listening ❤️

Alcohol, Suicide, Abuse

hey anon, 

i’m so sorry that there’s not much i can offer you other than just listening to you. being financially dependent on your parents must be rough, and having them deny you treatments that could potentially help you out a lot is also rough. thankfully…i think i might have some solutions for you? 

with certain types of mental illnesses, at least here in the united states, you can qualify for state insurance for that. i would recommend looking and seeing if you can’t qualify for that–i do due to all my mental and physical illnesses! 

also, there are ways to get cheap, discounted prescriptions! 

Medication

Prescription Assistance

MIM post on free and cheap meds

Paying for Medications and Understanding Your Health Insurance

Generic Medication Info

Help with Drug Costs

Help with Payments

How To Get Low-Cost or Free Psychiatric Medications

Discount Cards

i would strongly urge you to look into options that you can get insurance and money that is not linked to your parents approval so you can gain further independence from them. you deserve to seek out treatment that can help you, and you deserve to feel safe. 

sorry for the late reply. 

stay safe, 

kei