#i have reached the end of my inbox if anyone would like to send me more!!!!

[wedriftlikelonelyplanets]

If you are still taking fic prompts I would love to suggest landoscar and 30☺️

DEFINITELY still taking ficlet prompts. 30 from this list here: "You can't tell anyone" This is a thinly veiled excuse to also write Oscarmark because all anyone's asked for is Landoscar and I want to branch out a little smidgen. It's also not ANGSTY, but it's certainly a little toxic and rancid. First line above the cut, the rest underneath bc it launches into NSFW really quick.

Lando’s not expecting it. 

He’s not expecting to push into Oscar’s driver room (without knocking, because he doesn’t need to knock), to find Oscar on his knees, Mark Webber standing above him, fingers twisted in Oscar’s hair, his cock down Oscar’s throat. It stops him dead in his tracks for a moment, mouth open for a moment, before he snaps it shut. 

“Wasn’t expecting visitors,” Mark says it casually, as Oscar makes a gagging sound, choking around Mark’s cock in surprise. He tries to pull back, but Mark’s hand tightens in his hair, pulls him closer, until he’s buried so deep in Oscar’s mouth that Lando can see Oscar’s nose pressing against Mark’s skin, the curl of his pubic hair. 

“Stay, Oscar,” it’s almost conversational, as he strokes his hand through Oscar’s hair, before looking back up at Lando. The same adoration he’d fixed on Oscar isn’t present in his gaze, though, when he looks at Lando. 

“What do you need, Lando,” there’s a very thin layer of patience that remains in Mark’s voice, and in the silence that follows, Lando wants to slap his hands over his ears at the wet choke of Oscar’s throat around Mark’s cock. Glances from Mark, down to Oscar, to the line of saliva that’s trickling down his cheek, to glossy brown eyes, the tears beading along his lash line. 

He can’t even remember what he’s here for. But it certainly isn’t that. 

“N-nothing,” he stammers the word out, and then is turning on his heel to leave. 

“You’re here already, you can always just stay,” Mark murmurs, and Lando blushes red to the tips of his ears. It stops him dead in his tracks though, thinking about it. About the obscene stretch of Oscar’s lips around Mark’s cock. It’s not his thing, though. 

Oscar’s his thing. But watching Oscar with Mark, the devastating knowledge that Oscar will never be his? That’s not his thing. 

“It’s fine, I’ll come back later. Text me, Osc, yeah?” Lando asks, doesn’t wait for an answer from either of them before he scurries out of the room. 

He’s not expecting the knock on his hotel room door, a couple hours later, when he’s got the TV on as background noise, lounging in his bed, scrolling through social media. He hasn’t been able to get the image of Oscar’s mouth stretched around Mark’s cock out of his head, sees it on replay, imprinted on the back of his eyelids. It startles him, from the strange, sleepy stretch of time, has his phone flying out of his hands onto the floor with a thud. 

“One sec,” he shouts, flops out of bed like a baby deer, and makes his way to the door. Cracks it open to see Oscar standing outside, fingers twisting together, anxious. 

“C’mon then,” he mutters, steps to the side and swings the door open so Oscar can enter the room, closes it behind. Oscar’s cheeks are flushed, but the rest of him looks a little pale, and he brings his finger to his mouth, chews on the knuckle of his pointer finger as he looks at Lando, long and searching. 

“Out with it, mate,” Lando mutters, has to look away for a minute, to gain his bearings. 

“You can’t tell anyone,” Lando can tell it’s meant to sound desperate, like a cry, but Oscar’s voice is wrecked and hoarse, and he’s Oscar. Painfully, brutally neutral even when the time doesn’t call for it. “He’s…it would fuck his career,” Oscar explains, gentle, soft. 

Lando snorts. Course it fucking would. Mark Webber fucking Oscar Piastri would be all anyone would talk about, for myriad reasons. He wasn’t about to talk about it, wasn’t about to tell anyone. He was going to keep it locked in a vault of material to have a guilty wank over, and then move on from it eventually, some day. 

Truth be told, he wasn’t even expecting Oscar to come and try to explain it away, justify it away, whatever he’s trying to do right now. 

“Course,” Lando says, rolling his eyes. Oscar squints at him, as though trying to see through whatever front Lando’s putting up, to see if he’s lying. Catches his lower lip between his teeth, and lets out a long sigh. 

“Sorry you had to see that,” he finishes, nods, as though he’s satisfied that Lando’s not about to take it back. Turns to go. 

“Wouldn’t hurt though if I had some…” Lando trails off for a minute, the word he’s looking for on the tip of his tongue. Snaps his fingers when he gets it, startling Oscar. “If I had some incentive,” he says with finality, dragging his eyes over the line of Oscar’s body, from his toes, back up to his rosy cheeks. 

“Y’know, from your knees, or whatever,”

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Four

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri x lando norris f1 smau with intermittent scenes Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right? Warnings: language, author lied when she said lando was just there (i promise she's not getting anymore men omg), implied smut playlist a.n: the next part will have a q&a with y/n on insta/tiktok so if anyone has questions they'd like for her to answer please send them to my inbox (as basic or unhinged as you like)

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: SURPRISE!!! I present to you my new babies: Enchanted and Lover. Enjoy, my little lattes 💋❤️

↳user3: MY THOUGHTS WILL ECHO YOUR NAME            ↳ user4: omg these are what her and the driver guy were saying            ↳user5: DID SHE WRITE IT FOR OSCAR?!?!?! ↳oscarpiastri: Beautiful, love. 🧡            ↳ynyln: no you 🧡            ↳user4: omg ↳charles_leclerc: all's well that ends well to end up with you ❤️            ↳ynyln: I'll save you a seat, lover ❤️ ↳sabrinacarpenter: on repeat!!            ↳ynyln:❤️ ↳landonorris: love            ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie 🫶🏻 ↳user7: I'm here from f1, why does she call people little lattes?            ↳user8: welcome!! it's a term of endearment for her fans. y/n said in an interview that we give her comfort and a burst of energy, like a latte midafternoon, and it just stuck.

Lando nodded along with the beat. "It just needs a little something extra… You want to keep it acoustic?"

She nodded, sipping her tea. She looked astounded that he was there. He knew he was. When she'd texted him he hadn't expected he'd be on a flight to London within two hours. But here he was, sitting with her in her "little" basement studio, listening to her song for the fifth time, mouthing the lyrics she'd probably written with Charles or Oscar in mind. Charles and Oscar, who were upstairs sleeping soundly.

How I obsessively adore you That's what I do I believe, I believe, I could die in your kiss No, it doesn't get, doesn't get better than this

Oh to be obsessively adored by her.

"I'll do some piano, hang on." She leaned across him, invading his space with her gentle floral aroma and her soft hair and…

He sighed, staring at her in awe as she worked her magic at the keyboard. It was crazy that he was even here, in her private sanctum, witnessing what would undoubtedly be a hit as it was created.

"The piano's too prominent," he said, wanting to feel useful. "The guitar should be the main instrument."

Y/n nodded, and he reached to adjust levels, standing up and hitting play. She looked tense and tired and stressed and he instinctively moved to stand behind her, hesitating.

"Ok to touch you?" he asked.

She tilted her head to look at him. "Yeah of course."

He rested his hands on her shoulders, rubbing gently as the song played. "It's a good song, y/n."

"You think so?" she asked in a small voice.

"It's a love song. Hopeful and adoring. It's beautiful. Charles is a lucky guy."

She hummed, relaxing under his gentle touch. "What's he got to do with it?"

Oh. "I uh… Osc then."

She turned her head to look up at him. "It's not for him."

Oh. Oh. "Someone else?" Christ how many boyfriends did she have--

"You don't remember? You float across the room. It's what you said to me at the club after the race in--"

"Monaco," he whispered.

"It stuck with me. So did the kiss," she murmured.

He swallowed, continuing to rub her shoulders. "You didn't... When I sent you those videos I didn't know about Osc and Charles."

Y/n turned and his hands dropped. "What do they have to do with it?"

A nervous laugh rose in his throat. "You're dating them? Both of them, which is insane to me but like I get it. You're like a mouse on crack, you probably need two boyfriends to keep you from taking off—"

She laughed. "A mouse on crack? Really?"

Sighing as she stood up, he looked down at her. "I just… Don't want to mess up what the three of you have going on."

"They don't own me, Lando. I'm a grown woman, I can do what I want with my body whenever I want. With whoever I want."

Lando blinked, his mind short-circuiting over the mental image that put into his head. Swallowing hard, he drew in a breath as she stretched. And held it, staring at her while she fiddled with controls and restarted the song. Let it out slow when he saw the tension returning to her shoulders.

He was reaching for her before he even registered the movement.

"C'mere," he murmured, pulling her to him. Reaching behind her, he switched off the song. "You're gonna drive yourself crazy, love."

"It's right there, Lando, I just need to push a little harder," she groaned, holding her head in her hands and letting him draw her closer.

"Hey, hey, shh…" It felt natural to kiss the top of her head, to wrap his arms around her and try to calm her. "I'm not gonna let you go insane over a song. It's fine, I know you'll come up with something amazing. Just give it time."

"It's not just a song," she whined. "I'm absolutely shit at talking about my feelings for someone, you know? Especially when it…"

"Might go up in flames?" he whispered.

Her hands were on his chest, her head tilting up. "Did you have any idea what you were doing when you stole my number and texted me?"

"Honestly thought I was shooting my shot and hoping I'd get lucky," he muttered, grinning when she laughed.

"It worked."

"Huh?" Lando grunted in surprise.

"Got me thirsty. The past couple weeks have been crazy, trying to fight it, but god, Lando." She sighed as though to ease the tension but it was still there, her body still taut with stress and worry. "I honestly thought you came tonight to fuck me."

His mind bounced like a padel ball in an intense match. He wanted to comfort her, to get her to relax, to ease her worries about the song. But oh how he wanted to kiss her again. He could just remember their half-drunken kiss in Monaco, the electricity thrumming through him, his heartbeat matching the thumping bass of the music. Thought you came tonight to fuck me.

He blinked, his mind going back to a quiet moment before the race in Montreal, when Oscar had been telling him about the unconventional relationship he'd found himself in.

"We're just taking it day by day. But she has a lot of love to give, mate. Sounds crazy, but… I don't think one person could handle it all."

Was there even room for him? Was he honestly considering entangling himself in what would, probably, end up being a PR nightmare for the four of them?

Why was he even thinking of love when he'd originally just wanted to be able to say he'd fucked the richest woman in the world?

"I…"

He leaned down, one hand rising to cup the side of her head. It was supposed to be gentle, sweet, the type of kiss that deserved the song she was working on, but it was harsh, deep and demanding, and he was swallowing her moans. Her nails lightly scraped his neck then they were sliding over his scalp and he whimpered.

"I didn't," he gasped between kisses, growing needier with each taste of her, each moan that fell past her lips. She tasted of tea and chocolate. "I didn't come here to fuck you."

"I know," she moaned. She leaned into him and he felt the need, the flames licking at both of them.

"That's new," Oscar commented, chin resting on her shoulder while she poured herself a coffee. His fingers brushed the side of her neck.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm at the delicate touch, sparking the very recent memory of Lando's mouth on her. "Yeah…"

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked, kissing the mark, his arms snaking around her waist.

"Maybe an hour," she mumbled. After breaking the chair in her studio with Lando, she'd had a burst of inspiration, and the sun had been coming up when they'd listened to the finalized track.

"Love," he sighed, taking the coffee from her before she could take a sip.

"Babe," she whined, her mind snapping to the present, though part lingered on the memory of the twisted sheets of the guest room, of Lando's panting moans in her ear.

"I'll fix you something to eat, then you're going back to bed." He kissed the top of her head and moved away, drinking her coffee.

"I've got to—"

"You don't have anything scheduled for the day. Or tomorrow. So it's rest. No recording, no caffeine, rest." Oscar looked at her over his shoulder. "Stop pouting."

"I just wanted to spend the day with my boyfriends," she sighed, climbing onto the stool at the island counter. Wrinkling her nose when he poured a glass of orange juice and set it in front of her, she reluctantly took a sip.

"We can spend the day here. Peace and quiet, love."

She felt herself melt at his gentle words. Peace and quiet and them. For the whole day. She'd only had snatches of time with them since leaving Monaco. She'd had a concert the day of the Canadian grand prix, and now it felt like some sort of cosmic kismet that her mini break coincided with theirs. They couldn't be together for the whole time, but she would cherish the days she could have.

"Bonjour, mon couer, bonjour koala," Charles greeted as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

Y/n saw Oscar's cheeks tinge pink at the affectionate nickname Charles had started using for him. She sipped her orange juice, looking on as Charles brushed by Oscar, his hand resting briefly on the small of his back, and heard the whispered word. Rousseur. Freckle.

God, she loved them. Oscar's freckles, Charles's nicknames, and them.

"Good morning," she murmured after he kissed her.

"You didn't tell me we would have a guest, mon couer," he murmured, moving to fix himself coffee.

Oscar turned from the cooktop. "Guest?"

"Oh. Yeah." Y/n rubbed her neck. "Lando flew in last night. Late."

"He's snoring in the guest room." Charles was chuckling. "Leo went to bother him."

"I texted him. About the song. I needed input, and you were both asleep and—"

"Lando came to help you?" Oscar's smile was soft.

"He did."

Oscar tipped his head, regarding her much like a cat watching a bird through the window. "Ah."

"Ah, what?" Charles asked, rubbing his eyes while he sipped his coffee. Lowering his hand, he looked at y/n, snorting into his cup. "Ah."

She groaned, slumping down onto the counter. "Is it that obvious?"

"Love, you're glowing." Oscar grinned and turned back to the eggs.

"I've been glowing since Monaco," she muttered against the countertop. Slowly, she lifted herself, eyes darting from Charles to Oscar and back again. "You're okay with it?"

"I already told you, mon couer. I don't mind sharing you." Charles's smile was affectionate. "As long as you're safe and he treats you well."

"He's one of my best mates, y/n. Not to mention he's been obsessed with you for ages," Oscar quipped, sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.

"He's not obsessed," she snorted.

"Did he fly commercial or private?" Oscar asked, leaning against the counter.

Y/n sighed, taking a bite of the eggs. "Private," she mumbled.

"Day by day, love," Oscar said gently, leaning to kiss her forehead.

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: rough night in the studio until this one came to lend a hand. magic: made. forever grateful, sweet Lando. Let's just enjoy the view tagged: landonorris ↳landonorris: thank you for giving me a chance. soz about the chair            ↳ynyln: chairs can be replaced. and you'll always have a chance while I'm around            ↳user4: aww wait what did he do to the chair??? ↳user3: lando was streaming with quadrant until 1am monaco time            ↳ user4: god did he fly out to help her? my heart            ↳user5: wait that's really sweet 🥺 ↳oscarpiastri: will you rest now?            ↳ynyln: yes darling            ↳user6: aww ↳charles_leclerc: I adore the new song, mon couer            ↳ynyln: it sounds better when you sing it ↳user7: omg did she collect another one            ↳user8: omg stooopppp 😂😂😂

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[24-7-testing]

The end of the year can be tough for a lot of people. My goal is to make it a little bit brighter! Announcing once again the return of..

The Portal Holiday Spirit Initiative!

To help bring a smile to people's faces this year, I am sending FREE Portal-Themed Holiday Cards to anyone who requests one!

This year's cards follow the same format as last year: there is only one card design, this time featuring artwork from your's truly! The cards are still customizable to any Winter Holiday of your choosing, but you'll have to wait for your card to arrive in order to customize it (the method takes cues from the Portal game's sense of humor, and is very much on-brand).

This year is PHSI's 6th year! I'm so grateful to everyone who has participated over the years, whether you've reblogged and shared, requested cards, helped with artwork, or helped in other ways. You all are so amazing! Thanks for volunteering your time, talents, and support to help make PHSI a special fandom tradition!

If you would like to receive a Portal-Themed Holiday Card:

Visit bit.ly/PHSI-2024 ...

Answer the questions in the forms...

Wait for your card to be sent!

It's that easy! Card Requests are now open, and close on December 20th in order to give me enough time to make and send all the cards before the end of the year. Please submit sooner rather than later so I have time to finish them all!

Also, please don’t be afraid to request a physical card if you don’t live in the US! The card service I use says they ship worldwide and, while it might take a bit longer for you to receive your card depending on what country you live in, the cards will get mailed to whatever address you provide, domestic or foreign. Last year I mailed/emailed a total of 111 cards to the United Kingdom, Canada, United States, Brazil, Romania, Poland, Australia, Germany, India, Japan, and New Zealand!

I’m glad to be a part of the Portal Fandom and hope to bring a smile to others in the Fandom this year, just as in years past! Designing and emailing Holiday Cards takes time and effort, and sending physical cards is expensive. While it isn't a requirement to receive a card, I would greatly appreciate if you'd like to give $4 to cover the cost of your card or someone else's. Please visit ko-fi.com/247testing and click the Donate button if you want to help out. Thanks!

Answers for common questions and concerns below:

Worried about providing a mailing address, for whatever reason?

PHSI has an eCard option! All you need to provide is a name for me to call you by and an email address to receive your card!

Worried about requesting a card because you don’t live in the US?

PHSI mails to any address provided, whether domestic or foreign! However, please wait patiently for your card, due to the current global rate of shipping.

Worried that you can’t give $4 to cover the cost of your card or someone else’s?

Requesting a card from PHSI has been and will always be FREE! However, giving $4 to the initiative helps me pay for the printing service and postage to mail physical cards. I gratefully appreciate any contributions received, even if it’s just a comment saying thanks!

Worried because you don’t know how to support the artist of the card you received?

The artist’s social media is listed on the back of every card featuring their artwork. Look them up, commission them, reblog their art, and support them however you can!

Worried because you haven’t received your card yet?

Double check your email inbox and junk folders. I send everyone an email that either confirms your Holiday Card has shipped or includes your eCard! Physical cards take 1-2 weeks to arrive. If your physical card fails to show up after the first week of January, please reach out to me and I’ll send you a replacement eCard!

Worried because you received your card and don’t know what to do now?

Make a post about it! Include pictures, videos, or anything you’d like, and tag me in the post (@24-7-testing) so I can reblog it! If you don’t want to show your card off, that’s ok too!

[ddejavvu]

Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now. 

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring. 

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see. 

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry. 

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome,  “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[magicalrocketships]

Flip flop for Where the Light is? Sorry for acting like a fan but i saw ur reblog and jumped at the chance

↻ FLIP FLOP: send me a scene from one of my fics and I’ll describe or write it from another character’s POV!

Where the Light is (Masterpost || AO3) AKA the one where Max gets pregnant.

Except, this time: Daniel's POV (part 1/2, I didn't mean for it to turn into something but then I got tired)

Daniel I have some news for you so please call me back Daniel deletes the voicemail.

Where the light was

Daniel I have some news for you so please call me back

Daniel deletes the voicemail.

You have not called me back Daniel and now it says your voicemail is full so I will text you instead to tell you to call me

Daniel sees the notification pop up just under the last missed call from Max. That's five calls now since the last time Daniel swept the notifications away.

He doesn't want to talk to Max. He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He turns the volume down to nothing and switches vibrate off.

Sometimes he'll look at the phone on the coffee table and see the screen light up with another message, another call, another notification. He doesn't pick his phone up. Eventually they'll stop.

I need to tell you something daniel and I can see your read receipts are on so text me back

Daniel googles 'how to turn read receipts off'. He follows the instructions. He's okay. He just— there's a lot going on. It's complicated. There are lawyers. Contracts to unravel. Partnerships to end. He's tired. There isn't a space for racing and people who race in his life right now. It's a door he's got to close for his own survival.

You have turned your read receipts off but you are still not texting me back and it is important daniel

Daniel doesn't call Max back. He doesn't call Max, he doesn't text him, he doesn't come back to Monaco, and he doesn't read or reply to his Instagram DMs.

He goes back to the farm. Someone takes over his inbox and sends him meeting invites to a new, private email and he shows up to them when he's required to. He runs a lot. Bikes a lot. Answers one message or one call from his parents per day, as agreed.

It's okay. He'll be okay. There's a whole world out there, a future that's just waiting for him. It's okay to close the curtains for a while, though. Know the world's out there waiting for him. When he's ready.

He's just not ready yet.

Scotty messages him to say that Chloe got asked by Lance who got asked by Max to make him get in touch. He texts Scotty back it's on my list.

There's a lot of stuff on his list. He calls his therapist. She's been waiting for him to get in touch. He books in two sessions, and gets out the yoga mat again. He stretches. He talks.

Max keeps on messaging him. They're all much the same. He hopes Daniel is okay. He wants to talk. Can Daniel call him back please.

Daniel doesn't have it in him to talk about racing. He doesn't have it in him to know that Max is carrying on when he's pulled off the track and won't be getting back on it. He knows Max deserves better.

He doesn't let himself think about that one night they spent together, the one where Daniel had been drowning in hope, in promises, in a future. He'd wanted more than just that one night. He'd wanted that future, the one he'd dreamed about, him and Max and racing and everything else.

It's all right that things end. It's the natural ebb and flow of life. He wouldn't have been racing forever, anyway. There would always have been a last race, a last season, a last car. His therapist tells him it's okay to have feelings about how it played out, though. Daniel has feelings. He's mad, he's sad, he's disappointed and embarrassed and lost.

He doesn't want to get stuck as well as lost, though. He's always been an adventurer. There's always been something to reach for. He's just got to figure out what.

"You've got time," his therapist tells him. "You don't have to decide today."

That's good, Daniel thinks, because he's got no idea what's next.

His phone rings in the middle of the night. He answers blearily, without thinking. He'd turned the volume up after weeks of it being on silent. The ringer is so loud in the quiet of the night. He reaches for his lamp.

It's— it's Max. The angle's weird. He's holding his phone up to talk into it, but his eyes are closed like he hadn't realised he was FaceTiming, like he was just going to talk into the mic. He's lying down. That's a— that's one of those shitty medical beds like they have in the medical centre trackside, complete with the shitty tearaway paper sheets. It's Brazil weekend and that's a medical bed.

Daniel's heart pounds.

He has to tune back into what Max is saying: "—There is a baby, Daniel. Our little baby. I tried and I tried to tell you. I didn't tell anyone else but now they will be finding out. I don't know if it is me that is not well or if it is the baby. I want it to be me."

Daniel says, "Max?"

Max opens his eyes. He looks exhausted and pale and washed out and ill. He touches his thumb to Daniel's face through the phone screen.

"Max," Daniel says again.

"I don't feel well," Max says. "They are taking me to hospital."

"Max," Daniel says.

"Our little baby won a race," Max says. "I am going now."

The phone goes fucking dead.

Daniel calls him back. It goes unanswered. He calls again. Unanswered.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.

Daniel googles. He calls Max, over and over, but there's no answer. He reads peoples tweets and reddit posts about Max's win, about his fourth world championship, about him supposedly being ill and needing help out of the car and the weird, disjointed way he'd looked on the podium, not even picking up his champagne bottle, and how someone had come to offer Max help off the podium and down the stairs. The rumours and the news of him being taken to the medical centre, and then to hospital. He turns the TV on then off again. Dawn comes. Daylight. A new day. He messages Max. Nothing.

Then: I am coming to Perth. We will need to go to a baby doctor.

Daniel sits down. What the fuck. A baby. Their baby? A baby. All this time, a baby.

A call from his parents. He answers it hoping that it's Max, then he has to try and explain that Max is coming to them. Has to ask them how to find a baby doctor. There are calls to Blake, to someone who might know something, texts to people Daniel hadn't wanted to talk to ever again. Eventually, someone in Raymond's office. A time. Details of where Max's jet will be landing. Questions about whether Daniel will meet him or if alternative arrangements have to be made.

The whole time Daniel feels like he's having an out of body experience. He goes to his parents' place and they look at him with the same confusion and concern as is probably mirrored on Daniel's face. Knowing Max discharged himself. That he's flying across the world when he should still be in hospital in Brazil. It's too much. They're going to come meet Max's plane with him. They're going to drive.

"Jesus," Daniel says, when he sees Max, who's barely managing to stand. He's never seen Max look anything like this bad. Pale and weak and exhausted and touching his stomach, where there's a baby. Where there is their baby. God, maybe he misunderstood. Don't get hopeful. Don't wish for anything. He might have got it wrong.

He trails his parents to the car. He's trying to catalogue everything that's different about Max. He has to help Max get into the back of the car. Has to help him with his seatbelt. His hands shake.

Max looks at him. He says, "The baby is okay, Daniel, they said so. I am just tired."

Daniel says, "You're a real fucking idiot, Max," and he can't help but hold on to Max's hand really fucking tight as his mum tells them they're going to the hospital.

Max doesn't argue. He looks like there's nothing holding him together but willpower. "I thought you would like it if the baby was born here," he says. "I was picking a place for the baby to be born and I thought you would like it if it was here."

Daniel is going to fucking sob. He's going to break down and cry.

Max shakes his head. "You didn't answer your phone. I kept trying."

"I'm sorry," Daniel says. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't be anywhere where racing was. I didn't know it was more important."

"I told the baby you would love them but you just needed to know about it." He leans his head back against the head rest.

It's too much. It's another thing he's failed at. He should have answered Max's calls. He should have known it wasn't about racing, that it was more important, that Max needed him. That there was a baby, their baby, and Max was trying to tell him.

The punishment, Daniel supposes, is finding out like this.

Daniel holds Max's hand the whole way to the hospital.

[icarusredwings]

I love how you write call girl Wade and having her as gender fluid, honestly I live for a gender ambiguous take on him, it scratches the brain PERFECTLY

And Logan would be obsessed

Just constantly having Wade in his lap, not letting her get more than an arms reach away unless absolutely necessary for their little scams

Girl why you always in my inbox as anonymous.

Were friends. How am I supposed to tag you in cool posts if I dont know who you are.

I do like genderfluid wade and ive been messing around with them for a bit. Wade is literally the "I think im gender fluid but theres a gunfight going on 24/7 so idc about that rn"

So if logan were to genuinely ask, gently bring it up, Hed probably joke at first like wym haha im not a girl and logan would just blink and be like "Just be who you want to be" and suddenly- He's at a dress shop, sitting outside the dressing room awkwardly making eyecontact with the employees who walk by to see him holding 18 different dresses.

"Sir you cant smoke in here"

"You want me to put it out on your forehead?"

When wade comes out theyre in this really pretty kind of pinup dress. "What do you think!?"

Logan sighs, puts it out on his boot and smiles fondly. "Well arnt you gonna spin around?"

So he does and then giggles. "It has pockets!"

So he looks up to the clerk like "What other colours you have of that?"

Wanda has all sorts of dresses now but her signature for gamble nights is a short sparkly one almost similar to sabrina carpenters and a garter with prada heels.

Even pearls. Real pearls to match what ever colour suit logan is wearing. A small "dibs" on her at all times.

By definition Call girl means a sex worker who works by appointment only rather then standing the streets or working for a "any time" brothel.

Sometimes tables get suspicious.

"Whos the girl?"

"Ahh nutin. Just a call girl."

"You pay'er to walk around witcha or smth?"

"Something like that. I play better if I have someone pretty to look at instead of ya ugly mugs."

Pretty much, anyone who makes an appointment dies. Mainly because thats her profession. To butter up her targets, take'em home and then takem out in body bags. Since call girls are "higher class" then regular prostitutes they often have protection with cartel or mafia, especially in this particular setting.

So yeah, sometimes Logan has to grit his teeth and play pimp. "Sell" Wanda off to a sorry sap but it makes him so happy to know she just comes back home and fucks him silly to soothe his jealousy. Its a rush lifestyle. Always on the go, always having the adrenaline of winning or the endorphins of flirting, leading them on, the relief that rushes down wandas back when she finally gets to kill them.

Its a great little scheme they have going on here but sometimes theres more trouble then they bargin for or sometimes one of the players will call wanda ugly and it sets Logan off and sends wade into a hysterical session of tears and refusing to let anyone see them for awhile without any make up on. It pisses patch off a lot actually because he works hard to make sure she feels pretty at all times, even telling her how pretty she is while holding her hair back and their head in the toilet. Cancer is not any kinder to them in this au but at the end of the day if Wanda can make everyone in this room want a piece of his ass while said ass is sitting on Patches lap? Theyre happy.

[torialefay]

❤️‍🔥 Mercury in Libra 🪫

bangchan as your boyfriend series!!! (pt 5)

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨bangchan x reader (f); angsty sad times, little fluff if you try

✨word count: ~3.1k

✨5th and final part in chan’s astrology series!!! together, let’s take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be!

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means throughout the series (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship

✨ author’s notes:

(1) i do brief compatibility readings w/ skz members! if interested, send your natal chart to my inbox, as well as which member you’d like me to read for OR if i think there is one member best suited to you <3

(2) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: sad plot, theme of unfaithfulness, occasional cursing

✨tl/dr: chan is a loverboy who gets caught up in flirting when he doesn’t even know he’s flirting. then he ends up a blubbering mess.

Mercury in Libra:

-Mercury is the planetary ruler of communication and intellect. It shows how you connect with others throughout everyday life, just in speaking with them. It can also tell you a lot about how you relate to others and interpret the information they give you.

-Libra is a cardinal sign, meaning that people who are in this placement REALLY live by the aspects associated with that placement- in other words, chan is likely to hold very true to these values.

-Libra is the sign of love, beauty, charm, and balance. Libra in Mercury has a few key traits when it comes to communication. They are natural charmers and can instantly make people like them simply by talking with them. Libras are very good at placating to what others want, so they can speak to you in a way that they tell you what you want to hear. Libras also love beauty, so they many times will have an elegant way of speaking or cute quirks and mannerisms. Lastly, Libras value harmony and balance, so most likely their communication style will either (1) mimic yours, or (2) counter yours to be able to reach a happy medium.

-Long story short: Mercury in Libra people are sweet talkers who can charm anyone they meet, make them feel special, and meet them at the communication level that they are in. HOWEVER, the downside to Libra in Mercury is that they do not like confrontation- so they are likely going to avoid any conversations that could disrupt the peace between them and that person.

As your boyfriend:

• Chan always supports you exactly how you need him to.

◦ Had a bad day? He understands, come lay on him and talk about it.

◦ Upset over a test score? Scores are stupid, he’s gonna buy you ice cream and let you rant about how ridiculous it was.

◦ Got into a yelling match with a close friend? Hold his hands and talk him through it. He wants to know how he can help.

• He adapts to what you need in that moment- if you need someone to listen, he will sit there with an open ear. If you need advice on what to do, he will analyze every option and patiently walk you through what he thinks is best.

• If you get really frustrated or angry over something, he will 100% come up behind you and bear hug you, shaking you around until you give in and put a smile on your face.

• “Come here and talk to me,” he says, pulling you down to sit on his lap.

• He loves talking about deep things with you, like the meaning of life. It makes him feel so lucky to have such a smart significant other.

• He stares at you in awe as you talk about things you’re passionate about. Even if he genuinely doesn’t care about the topic, he holds on to every word, thinking of how cute you are in this moment.

• He remembers every little story you tell him about your childhood. When you bring up a long-gone aunt, uncle, grandparent, etc., he says “Oh, the one you told me about who ___?” You always smile at how he remembers these little things.

• Chan knows that you’re mad. He ALWAYS knows.

• He can tell in the way that you don’t instinctively turn your knees towards him in the car and when you don’t automatically reach for his hand when you walk next to him.

• He may not know why you’re mad, but he does know that you are.

• What he has a really hard time with is addressing it.

• He’s been trying for days to make up for it- whatever it is.

• Every day, he starts with “Good morning beautiful.” And every night, he finishes with “Good night princess.” Making sure you didn’t feel unloved.

• He’s been doing extra housework- cooking, cleaning, finishing up odd jobs you’d asked about a month ago. Could that be it?

• He’s been putting his foot down at work, leaving every night 5 PM to make sure he gets to spend the evenings with you. Maybe that’s what this is about- maybe you just missed spending time with him.

• Chan doesn’t know what’s wrong, and nothing he’s done so far has changed anything.

• He was hoping that his efforts would change your attitude toward him, or even make you forget about it, but he just couldn’t understand why you weren’t letting up. Why you weren’t letting him in as closely as you once had. Why things were so good, but now they are so different.

• All he knows now is that he is hopelessly in love with you, but it seems like you don’t feel the same anymore.

• You both sat together on the couch for a while. You thought Chan wouldn’t notice as you slowly inched yourself away from him, more slowly as the minutes passed.

• But he knew. He tried to reason that something was wrong. He didn’t want to push for an answer yet for fear of learning one that he wished he wouldn’t have.

• You continued to scroll on your phone, mind-numbingly on the ‘X’ app. This was a habitual routine, but one you decided you needed to break.

• There were a lot of great posts on there, but there was a lotttt about your boyfriend on there as well. One more unwanted post you knew would send you into a spiral.

• But you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know.

• You scrolled through the hashtag on the app. “#bangchan” splayed across the search bar.

• Cute photos and gifs. Adorable collages. Sexy TikTok edits. The usual. It took you probably 10 minutes of scrolling before you found something that got you ticked off again.

• ‘Every goddamn time,’ you thought, as your scoffed and rolled your eyes. You stared down at the video playing on the phone, as if this was the first one you’d ever seen.

• The caption of the video:

“how cute is #bangchan looking flirting with #fem/idol 😭🥰”.

• You focused on the interaction on the screen. There was Chan at the award show last night, leaning in and whispering something into fem/idol’s ear. When he pulled back, he looked down at her with a big smile, and you could see her reciprocate by blushing intensely and batting her eyelashes back up at him. You watched as he continued to talk for a few moments, laughing and offering up big hand gestures before saying goodbye, making sure to fully catch her eyes and bow as he went.

• You quickly scrolled underneath to the comment section, hoping that someone would say something- anything- to make you feel better.

◦ “God I wish he would look at me that way 🤭”

◦ “omfg she’s so pretty id def have chan’s reaction too”

◦ “Crying 😭😭 When do you think they’ll announce that they’re together? ❤️”

• You swiped out of the app entirely, shutting your phone off afterwards and placing it in your lap. You continued to stare down at the black screen until you felt tears start to well up in your eyes.

• You quickly tried to blink them away, but you couldn’t help it. This was the third time THIS week that you’d seen him do shit like this. Smiling, blushing, and heavily complimenting one girl, helping another fix her shoe, and now this. Before, you could reason it away- chuck it up to him just being a “nice guy.” But you couldn’t keep doing that forever.

• You always saw the comments people left under the videos about how cute they would be together and how Chan would be the perfect boyfriend.

• ‘But little do they know,’ you thought as you sighed.

• You turned your legs along with your body fully toward the other side of the couch, opposite of where Chan was. You looked a bit ridiculous facing the other way, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to see his face. You couldn’t stand to.

• You let your mind wonder, repeating the video in your head. The way he looked at her and the way she looked back.

• ‘Am I stupid?… Have I been stupid this whole time?…’

• You thought back to when you first decided to make things official with him, and how you both agreed that it would be easier to not publicize the relationship. You didn’t want anyone coming in the way of what you have together.

• ‘Was that my first mistake? So he can date me in secret and go out and flirt with any other idol he wants?’

• Your mind drifted to each other interaction you’d seen with him. You had make excuses time and time before. But it hurt to see him like this. Your OWN boyfriend talking to another girl the way that he SHOULD be seen talking to you.

• You couldn’t help yourself as one tear escaped. Then two, then three. Before you knew it, there was a release of waterworks all down your face. Your mind got the best of you as you started sobbing into your hands, burying your face into the side of the couch. There was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

• “Baby?” Chan called. His response was met only with more tears.

• “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, scooting his whole body next to yours to hold your back.

• “Get off of me!” you lashed out. He looked confused for a moment, but released his grip from you.

• “Honey, please talk to me. What’s wrong?” he asked, genuine sadness on his face.

• Hearing him call you pet names, all while pulling shit like he just had, completely set you off. “Don’t call me that.” You straightened back up in your seat, slightly turning toward him, not daring to look him in the face.

• “Don’t call you what?”

• “Honey, baby, whatever. You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

• “Y/n, what is going on? Seriously?” He placed his face in front of yours and used his hands to move your shoulders around to face him. This is the first time he could see how red and puffy your face had become. He felt like a piece of him had broken off just looking at you.

• “What’s going on?” you cried. “I don’t know Chris, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” You quickly unlocked your phone, the video still open on it. You dropped the phone down to him as you stood, then taking a couple of steps to get some distance.

• He watched the video, moving his head around as if he was studying it. He replayed it a couple of times, then turned it intently, like he was looking for a hidden message. But he could find none. He furrowed his brow, then looked back up at you with a stare of confusion.

• You scoffed. “Okay. So you see nothing wrong with that?”

• “With what? Talking to another girl?!”

• “FLIRTING with another girl, Christopher! Flirting!… I’m not stupid! This is the THIRD video I’ve seen like this in a week. Do you know how humiliating it feels to have to see you, who was supposed to be the love of my life, out here flirting with all these other idols THROUGH SOCIAL MEDIA.. AND THEN having people comment on top of it about how you two would be ‘just the cutest couple ever’! Do you have any idea how that feels?!”

• You saw him get a tinge of sadness in his eyes, but you cut him off before he could speak.

• “No, you know what? I KNOW you don’t know how this feels. Because I would NEVER think to look at another man the way that I look at you.. So you know what!? If you’re that interested in other girls, you can go for it! By alllll means, don’t let me stop you!” You could feel steam coming off of yourself.

• You didn’t even want to hear what he had to say, you just wanted to get out of there. He could have his idol life. Do whatever the fuck he wanted. He had you fooled for a while, but now you saw him for who he was. A liar. Wants his cake and eats it too. But not with you anymore.

• You turned on your heels to leave, thinking you’d go ahead and pack an overnight bag to head out. As you took your first step, you felt a grasp and a tug on your wrist in the opposite direction.

• You stumbled back, feeling him cling to your hand, then pull the top of your body slightly as he stood himself up. By the time he settled, he had you back facing right in front of him with your one hand in his.

• “Y/n, please don’t say that. Please, just listen to me,” he begged, eyes bigger than you’d ever seen them.

• “Listen to what? Listen to you explain how it’s okay to flirt while you’re in a relationship?”

• “That wasn’t flirting!”

• “Oh really, then what do you call that?!”

• “I was just being nice! I thought-” his voice cracked, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “I thought I was-“ he hung his head to the side. “I thought I was being nice!” He looked so defeated.

• And just like that, he started sobbing. Tears were streaming down his face like you’d never seen before. So powerful, they left visible marks even on his black shirt. He kept trying to get words out through his cries.

• ”Baby, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” he cried. “I didn’t know it would come across like that… I would NEVER,” he genuinely could not contain himself as he strained to get the words out. “I would NEVER do that to you! I could never think of someone else like that.”

• Teardrops kept trickling down as he reached to grab your other hand into his. “I love you- only you! I could never flirt with someone else! But the fact that I made you feel like that- that that’s what it looked like to you…” he couldn’t even see anymore with the water flowing out of himself. “I am just so sorry… Y/n I’m so sorry! Please, please believe me.” He was getting choked now. His face was red like he was about to pass out from lack of air.

• You stood still, not knowing yet what to believe or what to say.

• “Baby please! Please,” he took your face in his hands, feeling of the few stray tears on your own face. “Please. I love you. Please don’t shut me out. I thought I was just being nice and I- I-… I’ve..” he huffed, struggling to get out what he wanted to say. “I’ve done the last thing I ever wanted to do. I would never intentionally hurt you, do you understand me?!” He tried his best to look into your eyes. All you could see were tears weeping out, redness shooting in all directions, and a look of absolute brokenness. “I promise I never meant to come across that way. I thought I was just being nice to her, that is ALL. YOU are the only person I care about. No one else means anything to me. Without you, I am NOTHING. Please baby, please listen to me. Please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything to make this right.”

• He continued to wail as he brought his arms around your body, resting his head on the side of yours. His tears began to soak down into your hair. There was still nothing you could say. I mean, what could you say? Your boyfriend was notorious for being a charming guy… But knowing that didn’t make this situation any easier.

• “Please baby,” he rubbed your head as he plead. “Please just tell me how to fix it and I will. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again.” You felt the water from his eyes now drench your hair entirely. “I PROMISE if you show me what I’m doing wrong, I will never do it again. I promise I will be perfect for you. Just tell me how. I will do ANYTHING! I am BEGGING, y/n!”

• He stood there, holding you as tightly as he could while cradling your head and trying to quieten his sobs. He waited for you to give him some sort of response. Good, bad, ANYTHING was better than nothing. He felt his heart physically break inside his chest when you remained silent, not even motioning to begin getting a word out.

• He slowly pulled his face away from your hair, coming up to face directly into you one last time. His whole face was swollen, pink cheeks now extended into a pink nose and pink ears, streaks of both new and old teardrops going in every direction.

• “Y/n please,” he begged. “Just tell me something… Anything.” He felt like the floor could drop from under him any moment. A gnawing pit formed in his stomach that he felt was going to jump out of his throat while waiting to hear you.

• You stood still for another moment, moving your eyes down and contemplating what you could even say at this point. Your emotions were so mixed.

• “I love you so much. Please know that,” tears still in his eyes, he leaned down to kiss you. It was wet and you could feel the desperation in the intensity he moved his lips over yours. You leaned into it the slightest bit, giving him most minute sense of hope. He clung onto the kiss with everything he could, throwing his lips further into yours before you felt the tears start to slowly separate you again. He pulled his lips off of yours with violent hesitancy.

• He whispered now, as if he didn’t want anyone else in the world to hear him. “Please teach me what you want. Say the word, and I will do it...” small tears now were the only ones coming out. “I would give up everything for you, y/n. Money, fame, anything. Please just teach me what you want…. Please-” he cried, “please don’t leave me.”

• wellll, I’ll let you decide what your fate is with chan 🤭 to forgive or not to forgive?

• ohhh the world of a mercury in libra

——————————————————————————————

If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging <3

[thezoraprince]

Classmates - zora x reader headcanons

“I know you’re closed bestie but I’m just sending this in before I forget it in my goldfish brain. I have a particular classmate in my geology courses that takes every opportunity they can to work with me, and he basically doesn’t do his own work and makes me teach him things even when I don’t understand. I’ve have to talk to professors about him before, and I thought he’d finally leave me alone and then BAM the fothermucker was back at it again!! I get so drained from working with him, and it honestly ruins my day. But I can’t tell him no or else I look like the bitch. How would Bazz/Sidon/Ledo/literally anyone defend their sweetheart from this behavior when they noticed?” - @rocklover719

you and @bertie-bats are literally keeping my blog alive. not because of the requests, but because you both motivate me to write stuff lmaooooo (i have 0 drive to do anything right now, so your presence in my inbox is greatly appreciated)

i only did zora's for this one, and i wanted to add more, but my brain is literal mush rn. i made Bazz's the longest though, just for you :)

i hope you enjoy :) 

(p.s.: i’ll kick someone’s ass if i need to. i’m willing to make the 24+ hour cross country drive <3)

Sidon

he listens so intently as you vent

and he has half a mind to go talk to this person for you

but he knows it would be best if you did it yourself

“Y/n… if you come off in a way that seems… bitchy… then that’s his problem.”

he’d do his best to make you feel better

“You can do it. I believe in you.”

but of course he’s coming with you

because he wants to be there for emotional support

Bazz

as soon as you begin to vent, he’s ready to kick someone’s ass

and you have to sternly tell him no

“Y/n…”

“Bazz…”

“What? He’s a grown adult. He should know how to behave and that his actions have consequences. Let. Me. Handle. It.”

he’d sneak into class with you and watch everything unfold, watching how this guy weasels his way into your space and practically steals your work

and as class ends, he’d walk up to the both of you, pulling this guy to the side

“May I speak to you for a moment?”

you know shit’s about to get real

“I don’t really appreciate how you’re using y/n’s knowledge for your own benefit.”

you can hear them from just around the corner

“It’s uncomfortable to watch, and I can’t even begin imagine how [they] feel. Please stop, or you’ll be seeing more of me.” 

he’d come find you after, walking with you to wherever you needed to be next

“If he tries that again, let me know.”

RIVAN

this whole conversation is ‘I’m not listening as your partner. I’m listening as your bff.’

“Omg he did wHAT? That’s CRAZY!”

he actually lets you vent without trying to solve your problems

being a single dad has taught him a few things

“I think someone has a crush on you. Oooh!”

but he’ll definitely ask if you need him to step in

“But in all seriousness, if you need me to do something about it, you know I will.”

eventually, Rivan would sneak into your class

and instead of talking to the guy about the situation…

he’d give him a taste of his own medicine

Rivan would practically beg this guy to work with him, claiming to be a new student that got transferred in late

and you can bet after that, this guy will never speak to you again

Ledo

Ledo is 100000% taking this class with you

so he knows exactly how everything plays out

after class he’d pull you aside, making sure you’re out of ears reach from this guy

“Next time that asshole tries to pull that stunt, say you’ve promised to work with me.”

he’d sit next to you every day after that

and he’d be sure to give that guy dirty looks when you’re not looking

Torfeau

you vent ONE TIME

just once

that’s all it takes for Torfeau to ‘discuss the situation’ with him

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Reminder of Reality | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, fluff, angst, talks of pregnancy, talks of sex, food, OC eats meat, Jungkook is a sweetheart, beware of the in-laws!, idiots in love, guys we have some progress! (let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: Sentiment sneaked into the large cracks in your marriage with Jungkook. Emotions revealed another side of him as well as an intimate point of view about yourself. The waters of your relationship are getting deep with both affection and obstacles between you two. Brought back from his dreams to reality, Jungkook must make a decision to change his fate, that is if he wants to keep you by his side forever.

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N Let me know your thoughts in the comments, guys! This is a longer part than chapter 1, I really hope you will like it and remember that drabbles are open for this universe! My inbox is open so please send me some asks while I write the next part!

Please take care and thanks for giving this story a chance, happy reading everyone!💜

It's been two days since Jungkook recognised the feelings that have been residing in his heart for some time now. Since that talk he had with Jimin.

A text from his mother made his stomach churn with nerves, not because of what was written in it but because of the meaning of the words she texted him.

Jungkook stood in front of one of the large windows in his office, phone in hand while he pondered how to approach you about the matter of his mother's text. He planned conversation after conversation in his head only to discard it in the end.

His mental scripts were only making him more anxious than he already was with the fact that he had to call you during his work hours.

Anyone who could be in his shoes at that moment would have made the call an hour ago but this wasn't anyone. It was about you and Jungkook and the complicated yet still easy relationship between you two.

It wasn't of hate but it wasn't of love either. The word of marriage didn't resonate as sweetly as it should have been but he couldn't say it was a bitter experience. It was just unknown territory for the both of you.

Jungkook took a deep breath, pressing your contact in his phone as he pressed the device up to his ear. It rang and rang, with each tone as his call went unanswered, the more nervous he felt.

Not because of making the call, but because of who he was calling. It was you. The woman who carried the title of his wife, you with whom he had been living for nearly a year now, you whom he liked in a way that was supposed to be normal between husband and wife yet it didn't exist between you and Jungkook.

So he waited. Waited until you answered his call, eyes fixed on the city that looked so small from where he stood. Heart raising with anticipation of hearing your voice while his stomach churned with the nerves of messing up somehow.

You were pouring yourself some hot water on your favourite cup to make some tea to enjoy in the chilly flat. You had just finished writing yet another chapter of your book and now came the revision you gave it before sending it to your editor.

It was tiring to do so, but you also rejoice in the fact that you allowed your ideas to rest for a bit while also seeking the opportunity to improve your writing.

Just as you finished making your tea, you heard your phone vibrating in the quiet flat from the living room. With a sigh you put the cup down on the counter as your legs carried you back to the living room. Your hand reached for your phone and you felt how your heart skipped a beat when you read it was Jungkook calling you.

Without wasting another second, you picked up his call, your phone was pressed to your ear as you spoke.

"Hello?"

Your husband had to suppress the small sigh that left his lips in content upon hearing your voice.

"Hi, (y/n). I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

You smiled, eyes glancing back at the kitchen where your cup of tea rested before you answered.

"No, I was just making myself some tea. Do you need something?"

You heard him let out a deep breath from the other line as you walked toward the glass windows, the curtains were pulled at the sides and you were greeted with the beautiful view of Seoul from the tall building where your shared apartment rested in the quietness of the lonely sky.

"Yes, actually. I wish I could ask you this in a different way, though. But my mother texted me and asked if we both could join her and my dad tonight for dinner. I'm calling to see if you don't have any plans for later today."

How considerate. Was the first thought that crossed your mind after hearing his words. Jungkook had never forced you to do absolutely anything you didn't feel comfortable with nor did he ever put you in conflicting situations.

However, when you agreed to become his wife, there were other roles you also had to fulfil. One of them being a daughter-in-law.

You suppressed a sigh before responding in a neutral yet soft voice.

"I'm free tonight, actually. Should I wear something specific?"

Jungkook could sense the subtle tension behind your words, it wasn't easy for you to meet his parents and he knew it but there were things he couldn't help but get over with. The four of you haven't met formally for awhile and he knew such a meeting couldn't be postponed any longer.

"Thanks (y/n). I'll pick you up at 5:00 and wear something formal, please. You know how my parents are."

"Of course. Text me if there are any changes of plans."

He nodded, big doe eyes fixed on the city beyond him. Not knowing you were also looking at the enchanting view from your apartment.

"Sure. See you at five, then."

"Goodbye, Jungkook."

And with that, the both of you hung up at the same time. He pocketed his phone, heart racing with the echo of your voice invading his thoughts.

He knew you weren't too keen on these types of family gatherings yet you had agreed to go. Despite the raw circumstances in which your marriage with Jungkook bloomed. He knew marrying you was only a play in the big inheritance he was going to receive eventually.

Marriage was a business. That was what he was taught since early years but now, he hoped he could make the relationship between you and him something more than the cold signature and the expensive rings that bonded you as his wife.

Your phone was still in your hand, your arm resting by your side as the conversation you just had with Jungkook replayed in your mind over and over. His sweet tone, the soft words. It made your heart flutter with feelings you had been denying for a while now.

Yet there was a part of the conversation, a sentence he spoke to you that just wouldn't leave your mind. Getting engraved not only in your memories but, unknowingly, in your heart as well.

"I wish I could ask you this in a different way, though."

Ask me what? You thought to yourself, your left hand came to your neck as your fingers massaged the tender skin there as the sunlight reflected on the silver wedding band on your ring finger.

You didn't exactly know the meaning of those words. He sounded disappointed when he had expressed such a wish to you yet you couldn't determine the reason behind such a feeling.

Or maybe you knew it already, but your mind refused to accept it. A fact as tangible as the ring that screamed to the world you were taken but at the same it was a fleeting thought, a simple assumption over your own desires. Your own fantasies.

What did you mean by that, Kook?

The sun was about to set in the horizon. The sky was getting painted in different orange shades as the blue in it began to darken and melt with the rest of the colours, creating a beautiful view over the city.

Yet Jungkook was on his way to see another kind of beauty. His wife, you who were waiting for him to pick you up from the flat. He couldn't stop thinking about you since that phone call he had with you earlier today.

He imagined your smile when you would see him and how beautiful you would look dressed in one of the expensive dresses stored in your closet he bought for you.

His left hand was curled around the steering wheel of his car, wanting to stop somewhere before going back home to you, hoping that you would like his little surprise.

While exiting the building, Jimin gave him a knowing look, one that made the younger man roll his eyes at the teasing of his friend. But now, those feelings of excitement were replaced with soft longing in his heart to see you, not being able to deny the happiness that blossomed in his soul every time he got to see you or hear your voice.

You were spraying your favourite perfume over your neck and wrists when you heard your husband enter the flat, the door locking itself behind him. You couldn't help but smile at the mere thought of him, your feet carried you out of your shared bedroom, over the hallway and into the living room where you could see the entrance way.

Your eyes locked on his figure. A fluttering in his stomach tainted his cheeks a soft shade of pink when Jungkook's eyes rested over you. He took you in, your figure cladded in a beautiful and elegant black dress with a squared neckline and slightly puffed long sleeves. Your hair was styled beautifully with a simple headband also in black.

"You're home."

Your words reached him like a soft summer breeze, peaceful and delicate. He smiled, taking off his shoes with ease before walking to where you stood, his hands behind his back.

"I told you I'll pick you up at 5:00."

Jungkook stated, your eyes glanced quickly at the clock hanging on the wall only to notice it was five o'clock sharp. Just like he had said.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

A smile was painted over your lips at his compliment as your cheeks were dusted in pink. You had to glance down or you knew your face would be as red as a tomato if you were to look into his eyes at that precise moment.

"Thanks. I hope you like the dress."

Unknowingly to you, he smiled. Jungkook felt how his heart constricted with the rising tension in the living room. It wasn't a bad tension, nor in a sexual way. There was tension between two people who liked each other but were too afraid of saying anything. Chemistry, it's how he'd describe it.

"You are always beautiful, (y/n). It doesn't matter what you are wearing at all, you are and will always be the most beautiful woman in my eyes."

You couldn't help but snap your eyes up to gaze into his own. You drowned in his dark pools filled with emotions you didn't understand, unsaid words you weren't quick enough to catch.

Jungkook took a deep breath, as if he had resurfaced from being underwater. As if a bubble had popped and he was able to breathe once more. Perhaps he had been trapped in a bubble of perfection in which only you and him existed.

But he was back in the real world quicker than he would have liked.

"I... we should get going."

You cleared your throat, snapping out of your thoughts as you offered him a soft smile.

"Of course, let me just grab my purse."

And with that, you were back into your shared bedroom, leaving your husband standing alone in the middle of the living room. Your heart was hammering like crazy inside you as you gazed at your own reflection through the mirror, purse in hand while you prepared yourself to face Jungkook once more.

Your husband ran a hand over his face, trying to cool himself down and to stabilise his heartbeat. The motions reminded him of the thing he was hiding behind his back all this time. His eyes fixed on the marine blue velvety box he held in his left hand decorated with a small and elegant silver bow.

It was a small gift he wanted to give you, the reason why he left the company half an hour earlier than what he had originally planned. Only to buy you that. Why? He didn't know it yet. He only felt like giving you something.

"I'm ready, let's go."

Your voice made him turn around, hiding the present behind him once more. Jungkook could say he nearly jumped at your words, having not heard you walk down the hallway.

"Wait, (y/n)."

Blinking at him, you waited. Expecting his next words. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly with the motion.

"I-I have something for you."

You arched an eyebrow in curiosity and he sensed that as his cue to take a couple of steps towards you until he stood at arms length and handed you the box. Presenting it to you in an almost shy way that had you smiling softly.

"What's this?"

He watched as your fingers took the box, your fingers brushing his own with the action as your touch sent sparks of electricity throughout his body that he had to suppress a shiver.

You gasped when you opened the lid, your (e/c) eyes scanning over the beautiful necklace that lay over a thin layer of black velvet. The piece of jewellery was crafted in white gold, three chains followed the lock, each one a bit longer than the last one with a ruby tear at the end creating a beautiful design.

"Do you like it?"

Jungkook asked. Your expression told him nothing and he was growing anxious over what your reaction to his gift would be. Yet no words could escape you as you were mesmerised by the necklace itself.

"How... Why, Jungkook?"

You asked in a small voice. Soft like the wind yet carrying the strongest of emotions he wasn't able to grasp.

"I only wanted to give you something. I thought it would suit you."

Your eyes lifted from his gift and locked with his own dark yet wide orbs. You smiled, easing the worry craving in his chest.

"It's really beautiful, thank you. I wish I could give you something too."

Jungkook shook his head, a smile of his own appearing over his handsome features, that smile you loved so much.

"I'm glad you like it. You don't have to give me anything, (y/n). Your mere presence is enough."

You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress the big grin that threatened to break over your red lips.

"Will you help me put it on?"

His heart fluttered at your request. So innocent yet it broke havoc inside him. With a raging storm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach, his heart skipped a beat as his fingers grabbed the necklace from the box.

You turned around, putting your hair to the side and exposing the back of your neck to him. Jungkook helped you click the necklace as you felt the coolness of the expensive jewel against your hot skin.

The smell of his cologne invaded your senses and the moment between you two lasted too long for your fluttering heart but it ended too soon for your yearning soul.

"There."

You turned around at his announcement, a soft smile graced your lips.

"I really like it, Kook."

Your eyes went wide at the small slip-up. That nickname existed only in your mind for him. Never had you ever thought of calling him that but he didn't seem to mind it as he only flashed you a smile.

"A beautiful jewel for my beautiful wife."

The ride to the restaurant was silent. But it wasn't uncomfortable. It was nice. There wasn't tension between you two as you thought there would be due to each of you being stuck in your own heads.

Jungkook couldn't stop thinking about the way you had called him. That nickname was simply a short way of his given name but he couldn't say he despised it, not when it was you who had spoken it.

He couldn't ignore how his heart had skipped a beat at the sound of your referring towards him. He found it endearing; a memory that would stay with him despite the outcome of his own wishes of progression in the tangled mess of emotions he found himself in.

You on the other hand couldn't stop thinking of what Jungkook said to you. His words meant so much to you than he probably realised.

"A beautiful jewel for my beautiful wife."

He had said. He not only had called you beautiful, a compliment you had received throughout your adulthood more times than often, but he had called you his. His wife.

Even when you both were married under a cold arrangement, you weren't going to deny the butterflies that wildly fluttered in your stomach when he called you his. When he thought of you as his. A partner to stand by his side forever, a wife not only by certificate but bonded by different things, bonded not only with a ring but with feelings involved in between.

Could he feel something too?

But before you were allowed to ponder more into those kinds of thoughts, Jungkook parked the car and sent you a soft smile before he exited the vehicle.

You had been so engrossed in your own mind, your thoughts about your husband that the seemingly long ride to the restaurant felt like nothing. Time flew like wind, as if holding water in your hands. That was how you perceived time when Jungkook was in your life, being that physically or only existing in your thoughts.

He walked around the car and opened the door for you, offering you his larger and inked hand out for you to take. You did with a smile on your face, thanking him softly before you two ventured into the restaurant where you would meet his parents once more. The two people who arranged your marriage with Jungkook.

The greetings and fake smiles went by without you paying it much thought. You focused on your mother-in-law when she spoke during the meal while you were cutting a piece of steak for yourself.

"That is a beautiful necklace that you are wearing, (y/n)."

She commented, you felt Jungkook look at you briefly from where he sat next to you. A polite smile plastered once more over your features.

"Thanks, Jungkook gave it to me."

"Mmm, I see."

She answered, taking a sip from her wine as you ate a piece of your own dinner, feeling the soft texture melt in your mouth. The conversation carried itself mostly between Jungkook and his father, talking about the company and future plans.

From what you had learned yourself, Jeon Enterprises was a large company that made sophisticated electronics. Their most popular product was their innovative cell phones, you having one yourself.

You admired the company as it had been passed through generations of Jungkook's ancestors as they had first traded with ink back in ancient history. And you couldn't be more proud of your husband to inherit such an empire.

You sat quietly next to your husband as he explained one of his upcoming plans for the company, you were taking the last sip from your wine before Mrs. Jeon spoke once more in between a pause in the conversation.

"Tell me Jungkook, when are you two both going to have a child?"

Her question made you choke on the alcoholic beverage you were previously enjoying. You put the glass down as you coughed a couple of times.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded at your husband's worry, his big eyes resting over you.

"Yeah, sorry. I wasn't expecting to... you know, talk about this during dinner."

Mr. Jeon rested his cutlery against his plate as he spoke, his eyes dancing between you and Jungkook.

"When else are we going to talk about it, then? You need a child to inherit, Jungkook! That's why we married you off, so the company won't be lost to the actionists."

You felt yourself shrink into your seat, but you weren't going to give them the satisfaction. Did they really arrange your marriage with Jungkook only so that you would get pregnant? What if Jungkook had been so attentive and sweet lately because he wanted to have sex with you?

He needed an heir for him to inherit. He needed a child. He had to become a father but that child wasn't going to be produced by osmosis. He needed to be married, have a stable family so that he could inherit his empire of centuries.

Was that his purpose all along?

"(y/n) and I haven't talked about that, father. It is not only for me to decide."

You looked at your husband with a surprised gaze, your previous thoughts melting like butter in a pan with that statement, you could practically read the sincerity in his words.

"Well, you two better talk it out sooner than later. I want to have grandchildren, Jungkook. And you (y/n), haven't you initiated anything? You should be pregnant by now giving how much time you two have been married. This was the only purpose of your arrangement."

Now that hurts. You didn't know why but it did. Deeply. To be considered a child machine only for their legacy to continue.

"Mum!"

Exclaimed Jungkook, his hand tangling with your own beneath the table but you spoke before the situation could escalate more than it already had.

"I believe that is a private and intimate conversation I must have with my husband in due time, Mrs. Jeon. Please understand that is a matter we must solve as a couple whether we had been arranged or not."

Silence circled the table the four of you were sitting at. Your voice had been calm yet firm at the same time, stating your point without being rude. Call it a polite way of saying " don't butt in " and you hoped it had worked.

Jungkook gave your hand a squeeze under the table, you had forgotten for a bit that your hands were intertwined behind your in-laws' prying eyes.

"If that was all you two wanted to talk about, I hope you are satisfied with (y/n)'s response. We will be taking our leave now, the bill's on me."

Jungkook stood up after those words left his lips, he pulled you up with him and you barely had time to grab your purse with your free hand before he was pulling you with him toward the same way the both of you entered the fine restaurant.

"I'm sorry about what happened back there at the restaurant."

Jungkook spoke, his voice was filled with a heaviness you couldn't quite place.

"It's alright."

You said, not wanting to dwell on that conversation any longer. Your husband turned to look at you, he was sitting in the driver's seat while you were next to him, eyes locked on one of the walls of the parking lot of the apartment building. The drive back home was silent but this time it was tense. Not between you both but due to the predicament you were tangled in as a married couple.

"It is not alright, (y/n)."

You sighed, your right hand began playing with the wedding band around your finger in your other hand. This wasn't a conversation you wanted to have but you also understood. You knew it had to happen, you knew you couldn't evade it forever and you were also aware of the fact that you would end up pregnant, sooner or later.

His eyes locked with your own the moment you turned to look at him, your eyes revealed a thousand emotions hidden in your soul.

"I know, Jungkook. It wasn't alright, none of this tangled mess is. But we are here now, together. Whether we like it or not, we are in this situation together."

His heart clenched at your words. Did you see your marriage with him as a tangled mess? But you didn't allow his mind to ponder on that thought for another second before you were speaking again.

"You need a child to inherit the company, that is a fact we can't deny. It was part of the contract, Jungkook, the conditions. We can't ignore them forever."

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest. This wasn't how he had planned this conversation to go.

"I'm aware of the conditions, I know what I signed myself in when I married you, (y/n). I just don't want you to feel as if I am imposing it over you. It is your decision too. "

You stared into each other's eyes, time flew by slowly as if the Earth had stopped rotating.

"I just... I don't think I'm ready to have a child right now."

Jungkook heard your whispered words. A sentence, a hidden truth that was spoken as if it were forbidden to even think about. He didn't know if he should be sorry for the situation you both were in, nearly forcing you to carry his child or happy upon the fact that you had revealed a bit of your soul, your thoughts, your heart and wishes to him.

Even when it was a mere sentence, when that truth was constructed of only words. A melody made for his mind to sing, he treasured the honesty, the trust.

His hand covered your own, unfisting your fingers from clenching the fabric of your dress. You didn't even know you were doing such a thing as you looked down surprised at your now joined hands.

"I am not forcing you. I will never force you to do anything, you must know that by now."

You nodded and he continued. Your eyes met his gaze once more in the silence of the car. A space so casual to exist yet now was intimate between you and your husband. A box of truths. A keeper of honesty.

"I wish this evening had gone differently. I'm sorry about that but the arrangement only said we should have a child together, it never said when. It will happen when you are ready and if you never find yourself down that path, well then that will be a problem for future us to deal with."

A soft smile appeared over your lips. There weren't enough words in any language to express how grateful you were to your husband for those words. Jungkook mirrored your gesture, giving your hand a soft squeeze before he retrieved his hand from your own, leaving your skin cold, missing his touch.

"Let's go inside, it's already late."

You nodded at him. Feeling your soul lighter for you to carry. Your burden lessened by his words.

Jungkook lied awake in his shared bed with you. You were already sound asleep but the world of dreams hadn't gotten a hold of him yet. He thought of the conversation he had with you in the car. He thought of your words, your reactions, your small gestures. They were all engraved in his mind, replaying it to him over and over and over again like a movie he loved and never got tired of watching.

What had happened at the restaurant, what was spoken in the confinement of his car, what you had said about your situation with him were nothing more than a reminder of reality for him. A reality he was forced to live and now, you were also tangled in a web of arrangements, promises and longing souls.

Reality was a changing truth. And while he lived in a created fate by his family, carrying the name of his ancestors and the prestige of his bloodline, Jungkook also believed reality could be transformed.

It could be shaped with his decisions and reactions. Just like he wished to change the reality he lived with you, to progress in the relationship he was already in, to win your heart and claim you as his own, he also knew his reality as the chairman's son couldn't be moulded.

Today, he was brought back to the real world, away from his beautiful dreams, away from sweet fantasies. He was reminded of his stance, of his reality, of his position, of his duty.

But was Jungkook strong enough to break the chains of a created fate? Was he strong enough to keep you away from the harm those chains would make once broken? Did he even want to break them and be free or would he allow to be the prisoner of his bloodline, of his family forever?

You and Jungkook were bonded by a ring, the two of you lived a harsh reality. Was that reality open to change its course and allow you both to archive the sweet marriage you both desired?

No-one knew the answers to those questions, only you and Jungkook did. But would you be able to face the truths hidden behind a created fate and smokey lies? Would you stay together in the end?

~Masterpost

Sept/08/2023

Drabbles are open for this au! My inbox is open, darlings!

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[juuuulez]

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

[legilimens-library]

Ok, im having a soft moment so here we go.

Im sure Severus never had anyone cook/bake for him, give him any individual affection, or do anything that made him feel special. No one to fight for him, he's always fighting for himself, yk?

But theres that one teacher (y/n), his bestest friend, always makes him feel wanted, loved, special. And he doesn't know what to do about it, so he just keeps being his cold, sassy self, UNTILLLLLLLL one day she leaves suddenly (short leave or other, your choice!). And poor boy realizes he actually really likes being wanted and appreciated- maybe confession when y/n returns?!!

Im down bad for this man, its concerning

~anonie 🖤

I absolutely adore this prompt and I enjoyed writing this little drabble for you. I apologize that it took me so long to respond, but I’m still trying to figure out how to work with the inbox and I didn’t see it right away. But anyways, I hope you like what I wrote. 🖤

Mutual Feelings

Severus Snape x gn!Reader

1823 words

“How long do you plan to be gone?”

You were pulling your coat over your shoulders before you turned around to see Severus standing by your office desk, his brows furrowed with a sort of solemn expression as he fiddled with his hands.

For a brief moment, you thought that he might actually miss your presence while you were away. He’s never been known to show much emotion in general, but ever since you started your position as the new Herbology professor, the both of you became quite close and he couldn’t help but let his barriers down and he found himself laughing at your frivolous jokes and smiling at the thought of joining you at your office to grade assignments while jesting each other late at night. He hated to admit that you had turned him soft, but he could never bring himself to be angry with you for befriending him in the first place.

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll send you an owl once I get to my sister’s place. She’s been a little worried about our mother’s health recently, but I’m sure it’s nothing too concerning.”

As you stepped closer to Severus, he regained his posture and smiled as you looked up at him. His hands twitched, trying so desperately not to brush away the stray hairs that fell in your face. For so long, he was trying to convince himself that he had no other feelings towards you other than that of a friend, but you somehow wormed your way into his heart and all he could think of was you day in and day out. You were so kind to him, far more than he ever deserved and yet you reminded him that he was wanted, maybe even loved through your acts of kindness as you sought after his advice and even baking him cookies when you knew he needed cheering up after a long day of teaching.

“In that case, I look forward to hearing from you once you get settled. But do be careful while you’re away, I don’t know how long I can endure your students as they will most likely fail at repotting the mandrakes again.” You laugh at his words, but he does have a point. Due to the last time, one of the Ravenclaw students was a little careless when repotting his own mandrake and you ended up in the hospital wing after you fainted. Severus was unabashedly furious, but you assured him it was only an accident and there was no harm done.

“Hey, that was one time!” You slap his shoulder lightly. “Besides, I don’t think any of them would dare make a mistake while under your tutelage. But thanks again for covering for me, I appreciate you doing this.”

“Oh, if only you knew.” He chuckled lowly. “But it’s no trouble at all, and if you need any further assistance while you’re gone, I would be pleased to oblige you.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you. I best be off now though, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of my sister pestering me for being late. Goodbye, Severus.” You reach out and wrap your arms around him in a tender embrace and he surprises himself when he willingly reciprocates the hug, giving you a gentle squeeze before he reluctantly steps away.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Safe travels.” Severus only hopes that you don’t notice the small blush that tints his pale cheeks as you turn around to the fireplace in the corner. And with the flash of green flames engulfing your figure, you’re gone.

~

It had been a whole week since you left the castle and Severus was experiencing an inner turmoil with himself as he pushed his food around with a fork during dinner. You would usually sit next to him for every meal and he soon came to realize how much he enjoyed your company above everyone else who sat at the high table. He never thought he would ever start to harbor feelings for anyone really and yet here he was, looking somberly at the empty chair beside him. He honestly didn’t know how much longer he could bear this unwelcoming loneliness without you there to annoy him with your silly little quips and your sweet little smile that would light up the entire room whenever you greeted him. His heart flutters at the idea of potentially confessing his intentions toward you, hoping that you would share the same sentiments, but there was only one way of knowing and he was growing eager for your return.

You of course had written him several letters, you detailing how your mother was doing quite well despite your concerns and he in return described, albeit exaggerating, how your students managed to not destroy the greenhouses despite their clumsiness. He received your most recent owl only yesterday and he was delighted to see that you would be back in no less than two days time, but it seems that the hours were dragging on and on against his favor.

With a withering sigh, Severus stood to resign from the assembly of his fellow colleagues and made the long trek back to his office to continue and hopefully complete grading the towering pile of parchments that lingered on his desk. The empty hallways were too quiet for his liking as he missed the unnecessary small talk you would have had with him and it only reminded him of your absence even more. It only made his scowl grow deeper and he began to wonder what you were doing at this precise moment, but he soon found out what that answer entailed as he opened the door to his office and stepped through the threshold of the dimly lit space.

There you were as plain as day, sitting in the rickety chair behind his desk with your hands tucked under your chin and that sweet little smile upon your face that he adored so much, as if you were expecting him all along.

“Hi there,” You couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him and the butterflies in your stomach only fluttered even more as he looked upon you in such surprise with those dark and twinkling eyes of his. You were hoping to get that sort of reaction and you tried with all your might to remain calm, but you were rejoicing from the inside at your little triumph.

Severus’s brain must have short circuited before he could give you a sarcastic reply in response, but you were too quick for him to keep up as you crossed the room to stand in front of him. He gazed down at you and he was entranced by your bright eyes for what seemed longer than was appropriate and he was confused by the worried look that replaced your smile he was so used to seeing all the time.

“Is something wrong, Severus?” Your voice sounded so timid and gloomy and he wanted to rectify that matter as quickly as he could to once again behold your cheerful expression.

“N-no, nothing is wrong, Y/N. I’m just surprised to see you, gladly, of course. I wasn’t expecting you for the next couple of days is all.” He wanted nothing more than to grab ahold of you and never let go in fear of you disappearing again, but he remained stoic in fear of not wanting to further upset you with any sudden actions.

“Oh, well, that’s alright. My mother kept insisting that she was fine and that I was wasting my time on being bothered over her health, so she sent me on my way and I figured I would come back early. I’m sorry if I startled you, I guess I should have let you know before I came back.”

“Don’t be, I’m just glad to see you back in one piece.” Severus then finally smiled, his posture softening for a brief moment before he tensed up again as you embraced him tightly. The familiar scent of your perfume engulfed his senses and he let out a soft sigh of content.

But before he could even think of the next action to take, he instinctively held your head against his chest and stroked your hair through his nimble fingers. You pulled away from him and he realized just how close you were to each other and froze, his arm still around your waist and his hand still grasping at your head. It was as if time stood still as he gazed at you longingly and without another thought, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

This caught you off guard for only a second, but you were quick to reciprocate his affections and kissed him languidly, wanting to savor this moment for as long as you could before you both ended the connection. Severus then rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, the small puffs of air that fanned over your face warmed your cheeks even further than your rising blush ever could and smelled distinctly of mulled wine and something that could only be described as him. It was now a permanent addiction you would surely never get tired of.

“I-I um, was hoping to beat you to that first, but that was even better than I expected.” You chuckled sheepishly.

“You-you’re not angry with me?” Severus whispered, his breath hitching in the back of his throat.

“Of course not,” You voice in a hushed tone, reaching up to cup his face and stroke at his cheek gently. “I’ve been wanting to tell you how I feel about you for so long, but I was afraid you would be upset with me and it would ruin our friendship.”

He breathes a sigh of relief at your words and is overjoyed that you have the same desire for him as he does for you. He never would have known that someone would ever like him, let alone wanting to show him that he deserved to be loved in any manner after all of the heartache he has endured in the past. Yet here he was, with you in his arms as you shared more soft and sweet kisses, never wanting to part from you again.

“The feeling is mutual. But I can’t begin to tell you how delighted I am to have you here with me, just like this.” Severus sighs happily, placing a kiss atop your head as he hugs you tightly to his frame.

“Well, maybe we could go to my chambers for a nightcap and start there?” You bite your lip, still nervous with anticipation at the prospect of the Severus Snape confessing his true feelings towards you.

“I would like that very much,” Severus murmurs, taking a hold of your hand as the two of you walk down to your room like you were giddy schoolchildren once more.

[botanikos]

PSA - You Are Wrong & Anon Will Be Turned Off Indefinitely.

I do not take kindly to FALSE ACCUSATIONS hurled at me, but here we are. Moving forward, the Anonymous feature will be disabled for an indefinite amount of time. Additionally, I will not be making a post for when it is once more enabled. Thank you to those who would send fun / funny / developmental questions and had fun in my inbox. You will get to continue this in the near future, but for now, there needs to be a pause.

I am posting this below a cut as it pertains to community-wide drama, the direct mentioning of another user, and a false accusation. This post will contain necessary tags for you to blacklist / block.

Anonymous asked: congrats to you and the anons and Cam on running stols out of the community

Congrats? Really? On. . . what exactly because I may not be a perfect person by any means, but I did absolutely NOTHING to Stols. We parted ways back in November, the discussion was polite and amicable. I have proof of that. Stols only reached out to me ONCE afterwards at a later time, and I NEVER responded or posted about it.

Therefore: Fuck you, I didn't do a damn thing to Stols or anyone else. I've been on the receiving end of anonymous messages all about bullshit since the beginning of my blog in August. There were periods of peaceful, blissful quiet, and then it would be a storm all over again.

But you DO NOT get to frame me for whatever shit is happening right now. My very few posts on the topic have all directed my ire at the anons harassing me about it all, and anyone using MY POSTS without my permission, that NEVER MENTIONED Stols.

But go off, I guess? Not that you haven't been this whole time, so what's new?

OH, I KNOW! I'm turning Anon off. So if you're NOT a coward, you can come talk to me like a civilized adult.

But let me make one thing clear:

I DON'T OWE YOU, OR ANYONE ELSE, A SINGLE THING.

with annoyance,

Jude

P.S. Yea, I've been screenshotting almost everything sent my way with the exception of a few I just straight up deleted coz it was repetitive.

[koqabear]

hi guys! this is such an odd post i never thought i'd have to make, but yk... might as well put it out there.

i'm sure by now it's common sense that the writers you see on tumblr are real people with real, busy lives. we are people with jobs or in school or both, and we are people who write because we like to, not because we have to. we are doing this as a hobby- unpaid, giving hours-- days, weeks, months, years-- of our time to present art that we are passionate about. for free.

so to come into a writer's inbox or comments being demanding and frankly, entitled, for them to write simply because you want them to is disrespectful and dehumanizing.

I took a break because i was tired and no longer found myself having fun writing. I really don't want to sound pretentious, but i've devoted a lot of time to this account, and posted really frequently; all because i wanted to, of course. it took me so long to come into terms with the fact that i needed a break-- because honestly, if i kept trying to push myself further and forced myself to write until i couldn't anymore, i would have reached a breaking point and would have probably ended up leaving instead. and while i have reached an overwhelming amount of support for my decision, there are others who simply seem to lack this common sense.

now in reality, i could care less about these people; i saw a rude comment this morning-- on a post related to my difficulties writing, no less-- shrugged it off, and moved on about my day. i only just now remembered it after checking my notifications. however, this is an unacceptable way to treat content creators on this app, and not everyone can simply brush things off. i don't care what intentions you have when sending such things; it doesn't matter if it was a joke or lighthearted or whatever, because the meaning is still the same. we are not robots, we aren't people who will satisfy your every whim, and we most definitely won't write because you try to command us to. entitled, selfish people who treat content creators as nothing but machines and refuse to show their support properly are the very reason why writers leave this website left and right.

now, if i ever see anyone leave such comments and inboxes on my or another creator's account, it will guarantee a hard block from me. it literally isn't that hard to be a kind person to people who are catering to your interests for free.

this is the last time i'll talk about this; don't even try to send anything rude in my inbox, because it won't get you the attention you so desperately crave.

thank you to my followers who have shown unwavering support to me and have left me reassuring words. you are the people i look forward to sharing my writing with.

[starglitterz]

THE STARGLITTERZ GALA !

— a milestone event !

one fine day, you receive an embossed letter in the mail. on the envelope, your name is written in grand gilded letters, swooping cursive gleaming gold against the parchment. upon breaking open the teal wax seal, the contents slip out: it's an invitation?!

☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : you are hereby invited to ‘ THE STARGLITTERZ GALA ’ , a monumental masquerade designed for our attendees to find love. for one night and one night only, you shall dance and make merry alongside others on our exclusive guestlist. we pride ourselves on making some of the most historic matches at our soirée, and we eagerly await more blossoming romance this year. do rsvp for a night to remember under the glittering stars – we hope to see you there ♡ 

☆ 𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : this is a request event to celebrate reaching 5k followers! i will be taking 15 requests in total, one for each of the prompts below on a first-come first-serve basis. do send in the number of the prompt you want + the character, as well as two back-up prompts in case the first one is already claimed. you can also send in any extra details that you wish to be added into the fic, though their inclusion is up to my discretion. ( my inbox can be found here. ) requests will be closed once all the prompts are taken. all the prompts will be set within the fictional event of the starglitterz gala. the pronouns in the prompts below are interchangeable ( as in it could be either the reader or the character in either position ). this event is strictly sfw but may have suggestive content. mutual requests will be prioritised. i will fulfill the requests at my own pace. do feel free to send in an ask if you’re confused about anything. hope you have fun at our soirée ♡

☆ 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒 : tis i, lady quill herself ! HAHAHA okay naur i can’t take myself seriously TT but anyways yes!! thank you all so much for 5k, i say this every time but this blog quite literally would be nowhere without my followers. i appreciate you all sm, thank you for being with me as i developed my writing and hopefully also grew a lot as a person :’) i hope you enjoy this event, i had a lot of fun putting it together :]

☆ 𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘

#1 — meet me at midnight : your partner has to find you before the clock ticks twelve in order to kiss you at the stroke of midnight. -> WRIOTHESLEY

#2 — walk but in a garden : strolling through the lush gardens of the mansion, you bump into another attendee who also stepped out for some fresh air. -> NEUVILLETTE

#3 — drunk-dazed : someone’s had a little bit too much to drink and is a lot clingier than they were before. -> CHILDE

#4 — from the start : even with the mask amidst the sea of faces, they’d recognise you anywhere. -> NEUVILLETTE

#5 — slow dancing in the dark : though you may not be the most talented dancer, all eyes are on the two of you as you waltz through the ballroom. -> WRIOTHESLEY

#6 — one kiss : stolen kisses in the grand corridors of the mansion, hidden away from prying eyes. -> LYNEY

#7 — moonlight sunrise : the sky is beautiful tonight, but in their eyes you’ll always be prettier. -> GA MING

#8 — greedy : they want one too many dances with you, and only you, refusing to dance with anyone else. -> KAVEH

#9 — let’s skip to the wedding : love at first sight ends up with a ring on your finger by the end of the night and the promise of your dream wedding to come. -> AYATO

#10 — daydreaming : despite being in an arranged marriage, the two of you have attended this event together in the hopes that it will bring you closer. -> DILUC

#11 — something about you : you’re not really hoping for much at this dinner, but after flirting with almost everyone, it seems like you’ve caught this one person’s eye… -> XIAO

#12 — could this be love? : you’ve never had a relationship before, but you’re pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach as they whirl you across the dance floor is exactly what love is meant to be. -> GA MING

#13 — partners in crime : you and your ‘partner’ decide to crash the ball for no reason, but end up getting swept away by the festivities. -> HEIZOU

#14 — save your tears : when you bump into your ex at the gala, it spells trouble [ at least until a new partner steps in to save the day. ] -> SCARAMOUCHE

#15 — heaven sent : the soiree seems to be a blessing in disguise (not!), for you were able to bump into your greatest enemy and even share a dance. -> SCARAMOUCHE

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[skibidi-mimic-division]

Hello? Anyone out there?

Are we recording..? Ok...good! Hello to any comrades and survivors out there! The resident human from Camera-Unit HQ here! I am reaching out to let others know that a new division has been created for the alliance in the honor of my companions! We are...The Mimic Division! Led by yours truly! Our division is committed to the alliance war effort and we are currently growing a database on the mimic populations that have appeared after the recent fall of humanity.

We are currently gathering information on these amazing species and are discovering new mimics nearly every week! If you want to contribute to our research efforts, feel free to submit your mimic sightings report in our private P.O box with an image attached!

The mimic division is currently overseen by me, the sole "unaltered" human in the alliance! I have three agents from each branch of the alliance that you can also talk to...as well as my three mimic companions and three adopted mimic kids! Feel free to ask my commander Veteran anything as well! We will try to reply as soon as we can on this private encrypted network. Until then, stay safe out there survivors! We will be victorious in the war and we WILL end the toilet tyranny! Stay strong! (Click!)

Video Recording Source: Resident Human

Reporting From: Mimic Division Headquarters --

We are the Mimic Division! We specialize in mimic warfare, well-being, and companionship! We started with barely any records of mimics existing and we have only started to grow our database as more mimics are discovered and recorded. We also have a safe haven for allied mimics to nest in a large warehouse at the main camera HQ. The mimics are lead by the resident human and their trusted mimic allies. Buddy, Pal, and Fiend were the progenitors of the mimic division and the packs and allies only continue to grow! Through teamwork, the human and the mimics have decided to coexist and live together. They work together for similar goals in stopping the Skibidis and their senseless massacres against everything that isn't a Skibidi!

With this strengthening alliance, the human and mimics hope to end the Skibidi war together.

Please adhere to these rules when contacting the division! .

Don't send anything overtly sexually inappropriate. This is not a mature blog, so questions like "who would fuck who" will be ignored. However, questions about mimic or human biology are welcome! .

Don't abuse the anon function to spam, harass, or send hate. The ability to send asks as anon is a privilege and it will be revoked if it is abused! .

Keep non-skibidi related content out of the inbox! This is a blog that is set 'in-universe', so they have no knowledge of things beyond their own world (and what I am willing to allow). .

Unless your OC is relevant to the Skibidi universe, do not send "how will ___ react to my OC" and the like. Those will be immediately deleted. Only Skibidi-based original characters are welcome and Mimic OCs are also welcome! .

Characters will only respond to an ask that will mention them. If you want a certain character to respond to you, be sure to mention them! .

The human goes by they/them pronouns and has no name! You are free to draw them how you envision them, as they are supposed to be a stand in for you! However, they are also a character you can talk to if you wish to do so! .

Art, submitted stories, and other medias will be tagged appropriately! For example, if you submit an image of a mimic in the middle of devouring a Skibidi: I will tag it 'gore'! If you don't want to see such things, be sure to have them blacklisted! .

You can ask me questions here too by saying "Hax" or "Cosmica", I will answer to either. I am only one person, so please be patient and don't badger me for an immediate answer. .

Don't specifically request art. I will draw art for asks that I feel deserve a visual representation on my own!

Current known in-universe affiliates!

+ The Filming Industry : Credit to @striderl + Elisa and Hypnos : Credit to @krystalkitdemi (More to Come) -- NOTES: Current timeline position: Pre-Origin's Release Post: Pinned Updated: 5/8/2024

[echosluvr]

I'm the shameless writers' sleep paralysis demon. In season 12:

Debbie has flings with a bunch of crazy™ chicks to forget about Sandy but they meet again and they talk about that.

D:"after i met you, thought I loved crazy bitchs but turns out i only love one crazy bitch."

S: "oh wow, turns out ,i only love one crazy bitch too."

They kiss and have steamy lesbian sex, the end.

LMFAO this is sending me so bad how does it feel to be one of the funniest people ever anon (sorry I saw this so late Tumblr loves hiding my inbox notifs) as much as I love love love sebbie, I fear it wouldn't happen like this. I think after h*idi , debbie would quit on dating and fucking? she may kiss girls at bars on her nights out but thats the most. she wouldn't get anyones number or fuck. she'd devote most of her time to her job and franny to get over sandy. if im being 0% delusional they would NOT get back together because of the harsh and cruel words sandy said to debbie. but in my perfect fanfic world, over this time sandy tries with prince , obviously a long hard path because she willingly abandoned that kid with a guy who clearly didn't have enough time for him either. but over the course of months and familial therapy she would get to a standpoint with her son, where they aren't truly mother-son, but they get along. she knows his favorite things (color, food, clothes, activity, etc) and he knows his hers. and at first sandy would do this just for debbie, to show she's willing to change and not be another person who abandons her. but overtime she grows to care for her son. and I think the reconciliation would start off with sandy begging mickey to help him set up a meeting or play date between franny and prince so she can show she's trying with her kid while also having some distance to discuss these topics with debbie. as for Debbie she would be against it at first and maybeeeeeee mickey bribes franny who is the only person in the whole wide world that can convince her mom to do anything. so she agrees. they'd meet, its awkward but sandy strikes a convo about the kids and they seem to joke about it. and amidst it, sandy would apologize and debbie would shut it down, cause she just isn't ready to forgive her, but she's willing to along with it. it'd probably grow along the course of months most likely years and a shit ton of familial counseling between sandy and prince and couples therapy between sandy and debbie to get to a state where sandy can ask debbie out on a date and they can try again. but once they reach that point I think they'd fall in love and be gallamoms to their kids (btw prince and sandy would def have a much much better bond by the time sebbie get together, and royal is out of the picture because I think he shouldn't exist) and bully ian and mickey. if I go beyond sebbie, I def think mickey would help his cousin love her child despite the circumstance by simultaneously learning to love yevygeny ? I think it would be cute to see the two cousins earn a place in their child's life and it causing a beautiful domestic life for them all. svet and mandy would be together by this time too, and once it all settles down over years, all three couples would put their kids/stepkids to bed and laugh over how almost 2 decades later the two youngest milkovich siblings & their cousin r now stable and gay/bi (SCREW U TERRY)

(@m4ndysk4nkovich, @holymurdock and @lovekenney I would love for u three to add ur insights )