#i just love how much understanding and love there is between all of them

[butyoudidthis4what]

No Man's Land

Jack Abbot x f!Reader

5.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || C.W.: mentions of blood, mentions of guns and shootings, mentions of death/dying/coding, CPR, anxiety about partner's safety, Jack's traumatized, reader's traumatized, mentions of dissociation and compartmentalization, poor description of medical events, potentially incorrect medical descriptions/knowledge, very very light smut, angst, age gap kind of implied with Jack but not explicitly referenced, no use of y/n or related, not proofread, no beta, I think that's all but if I missed any please (nicely) let me know.

Summary: This is my Pitt-Fest-But-Not fic. Development of your relationship through vignettes of the past and conversations between Jack, Dana and Robby. There's a shooting where you work. Jack is at the ED when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

A.N.: If my Robby reads like John Carter I'm sorry, except that a little bit I'm not. I feel like I'm struggling with my Jack characterization but can't tell if that's just me hating everything I do. This is my take on one of my fave tropes where reader is in mortal danger. I needed a physical location that could be associated with reader and settled on a courthouse, but what it is reader does there is not described. Probably (definitely?) needs a part two. If you get the nickname, thank you, I feel seen. If you don't I explain it at the end. This is absolutely something I would call him, in part to fuck with people who know his real name. I would love to know if you enjoyed and to hear any thoughts you'd like to share.

“He has a girlfriend,” Robby smirks at Dana. 

She blinks at him. “I’m sorry, I thought we’re talking about Jack Abbot.”

“Oh we fucking are.” Robby stifles his smirk and forces his lips to remain closed and as neutral as possible. 

“You’re shitting me.” Dana’s incredulous look breaks Robby a bit and he starts to laugh, tries to turn it into a cough when both he and Dana look up to find Jack staring at them as he takes his snow dusted beanie off. He gives Robby a ‘really?’ look even though he knew Robby would rat him out to Dana the second Robby had dragged it out of him. 

Dana looks back at Robby. “Who? How did they meet?”

Robby holds up his hands. “You now officially know as much as I do about her.” Dana makes a noise of vague discontent but knows Jack well enough to know Robby is telling the truth. That’s all that’s been revealed. 

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

“It’s not worth it,” you whisper. Jack blinks and looks around, unsure if you’re talking to him. He has no idea who you are, has never seen you before in his life but it appears that you are in fact whispering to him in the middle of this bookstore. 

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s not?”

You shake your head, give him an almost conspiratorial smile. “No, he must have gotten a new ghost writer. It’s really bad in comparison to his other stuff. Save your time and money. I’ll give you a summary right now for free if you’re that curious.”

Jack smiles to himself a little bit as he sets the book back on the shelf. There’s something about you, your smile, the way you just randomly spoke to him. He’s drawn to you. An alarm goes off in some part of his brain telling him to ignore it, ignore you, he could get hurt. He pretends to weigh his options as he turns to face you fully. “How about for a cup of coffee?”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment. There’s simply no way this unfairly attractive man is asking to buy you a cup of coffee. “The summary?” You clarify. “That I’d give for free. You want it to cost a cup of coffee instead?” You let out a nervous laugh and some part of his heart aches because you’re so adorable. “I just want to make sure I understand before I potentially make an even bigger fool of myself.” 

“Yep.” He can’t help but laugh a little. “You give me the summary over coffee. Actually, you know what? You’re going to have to give me a recommendation too because now I’m going to have nothing to read.” He clicks his tongue at you. 

“Well,” you laugh out, all breathy as you try to pull yourself together. “You drive a hard bargain but I think I’m willing to accept those terms…” you glance at his name badge, “Dr. Abbot.” You give him a full smile and Jack knows then and there he’s totally fucked in the best of ways. 

“Jack.” He smiles at you as you both begin walking towards the café. “Call me Jack.”

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

Everything quiet enough after handoff, Robby walks out with Jack into the morning sun that does little to warm the breeze pulling leaves off the trees. “Any chance you can cover a shift on Saturday night?” Robby is asking, yes, but he knows it’s not really a question, Jack is always willing to work.

“Can’t.” Jack says simply, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.” There’s an expectant silence that hangs between the two as they keep walking.

“Care to elaborate?” Robby finally asks.

“No.” Jack turns and smirks at him. “It’s none of your and Dana’s business.”

“Ha!” Robby laughs. “So it’s her, it’s about her! The ever elusive girlfriend. Will we ever get to meet her? Or does she not want to meet us? Is she real?” Jack stops walking and gives Robby one of his looks. “Holy shit, is it someone here?”

Jack snorts at that. “No it’s not someone here. She’s not even in the medical field.” He sighs, half longing and half resignation of some kind. “She’s honestly dying to meet you guys, especially you and Dana, but I’m trying to protect her from this hellhole. It’s hard with schedules too, to find a time.”

“That’s such fucking bullshit,” Robby laughs. “Are you afraid to truly commit? Think bringing her here will make it too real?” 

It’s a valid question but one that Jack nevertheless resents. “No, actually, if you must fucking know Saturday is our one year anniversary. We have plans. So you’ll have to find someone else to cover. But I’ll bring her around soon,” he laughs through his nose to himself at your stubbornness, “if I don’t she’s liable to just show up one of-”

“A year?” Robby laughs, incredulous. “A fucking year? How the hell did you hide it for three months before I dragged it out of you?”

Jack ignores him. “Also, I’m moving to days. It’s better for us.” He’s so nonchalant about it, just states it like he’s saying the sky is blue, like it’s not going to make Robby’s eyes widen and mouth drop open like it does.

“I don’t,” Robby huffs a laugh, “I don’t even know where to fucking begin.”

“Then don’t.” Jack smirks, starts to walk again while Robby stays frozen, running a hand through his hair. “Go do some actual work.”

“I thought you found comfort in the darkness?” Robby yells after him. 

Jack slows and turns around but keeps walking backwards, one hand holding the strap of his backpack to keep it over his shoulder. He glances down at his phone and the photo of you that is now his wallpaper. He smiles to himself a little, yells back. “Guess I find it somewhere else now.”

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

You giggle, honest to god giggle and Jack could lose his damn mind as he nibbles at your collarbone. “You know if my anatomy class had been this fun, I might have become a doctor too.” 

You’re laying on your back in bed as Jack kisses your sweat slicked skin all over as you both come down from your last round. He’s taken to 'teaching you anatomy' like this, identifying different parts of the human body with his mouth.

“Hmm,” Jack hums against you. “I’m glad it wasn’t then. Fuck doctors.” He starts to kiss down your chest. 

“That has become quite the favorite pastime of mine, yes,” you smirk. “Fucking one specific doctor, actually.” 

“Getting fucked by one specific doctor more like it,” he murmurs into your sternum. He kisses laterally, lips hitting your breast and moving towards your nipple. 

“I think we’ve established what those are,” you moan softly as he takes your nipple into his mouth. You let your hands run through his salt and pepper curls that you adore so much. 

“Can never be too thorough.” You giggle at him again and can feel him smile against you. “But fine, you want something new?” You nod, let your nails scratch gently at his scalp. 

“Nipple,” he kisses your nipple and then down your torso to right above your belly button, “to navel is no man’s land.” He continues to lavish kisses on the soft skin of your stomach before looking up at you when you don’t respond. 

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me or not.” You eye him with mock suspicion. 

He laughs and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world, you swear. Well maybe second, only behind hearing him tell you that he loves you. 

“I’m not. Nipple to navel is no man’s land. It’s a real thing. It’s one of the worst places to get shot or stabbed because there’s so many organs that could be hit and the place we’d expect to get hit would depend on whether the person was breathing in or out at the time, whether their lungs were inflated or deflated. And we generally have no way of knowing. It can be difficult to get clear imaging.” He starts kissing lower, down below your belly button, rubbing his stubble along your skin to tease you as he gets lower and lower. “It’s never a good time. Lots of poor outcomes.”

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

It’s supposed to be his day off and yet Jack finds himself staring at the board and running a hand over his face. “It’s still so fucking weird seeing you here during the day and it not meaning something catastrophic has happened.” 

Jack turns to look at Dana. “I’ve been working days for a month now and it’s my day off.”

“You can go, we’re fine for now,” Robby nods at Jack. “Thanks for the brief assistance brother.”

“No, no,” Dana interjects, “he’s not allowed to leave until we nail down a time to meet his girl.” 

Robby raises his eyebrows and starts to tilt his head and open his mouth to agree with Dana. A dispatch comes through before anyone can say anything else and Dana grabs it, pinning Jack down with her eyes, daring him to leave before discussing meeting you. 

“Saved by the bell,” Jack huffs, taking his stethoscope off and starting to walk away. 

“Shooting at a courthouse,” Dana relays to Robby, “not a mass cas, just a few people, two a little iffy, one they’re already doing CPR on, a few caught in the race to get out. Two dead on the scene.”

It takes a few seconds for Dana’s words to truly register with Jack, but when they do his hearing fades to only a sharp ringing in his ear. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening to him again. He’d been so reticent at the beginning of your relationship, waited so long to give in and define it and hand his heart over to you, terrified he’d lose you because of himself and who he was, his imperfections, his past, his trauma, his PTSD, his baggage, as he thought of it. He feels so stupid now, in the moment, not having worried about how he could lose you from a random act of violence, that in the moments he can’t be there to protect you somebody could come in and rip you from him. Just like that. With the pull of a trigger. 

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

“You know, I can confidently say this is the most unique date I’ve ever been on,” you tease Jack. 

“Hey,” he pants, “me teaching you CPR is a great date.” 

“It would be better if you took your shirt off,” you whisper and wink at him before letting your eyes linger on his arm. 

“If I did that you’d be so distracted you’d learn nothing,” he smirks at you, sweat glistening on his skin just a little. Just enough to drive you nearly feral for him. 

 “I think I’ve got the compressions part down, but I may need more help learning the mouth to mouth part.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You fucking love it,” you shoot back at him, leaning into his space and bumping him with your shoulder. 

He can’t help but kiss you. “Yes,” the word is muffled against your lips, “yes I do.” He gives you a firmer kiss this time before he pulls away. “But really. You should know how to do it, just in case. It will help you feel in control in the moment if the need for it ever arises. You’ll know what to do.”

You bite your lip and smile at him. 

“What?” He eyes you with suspicion. 

You shrug. “Nothing, I just love you so much. Sometimes it overwhelms me, how much I love you.”

He can see it in your eyes, how much you love him, can almost feel it physically squeezing him like a tight hug. He’s really not sure what he ever did to deserve you or your love. “I love you too, Doll.”

“I love you more, Peter.” Your face pulls up into that usual self-satisfied and silly grin you get sometimes when you call him that nickname. It’s a recent thing. You’re calling him it more and more though, it’s becoming a natural way of referring to him. From anyone else he would hate it, hearing it between another couple would make him roll his eyes. But from you? He loves it more than you’ll ever truly know. 

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

Jack spins around.

“Jack you can still go, we’ve got it covered.” Robby looks at Jack for a minute and then meets Dana’s eyes as she looks to him after taking her own look at Jack. 

“What courthouse?” Jack asks. It’s quiet, controlled and clipped and almost missable in the chaos of the ED. He’s not looking at either of them, staring past them at a wall with a chest heaving more and more by the second as his face grows paler. 

He tries to keep it together. Dana will say the name and it won’t be your courthouse and he’ll go straight to your actual courthouse, grab you, take you home and never let you leave. A perfectly reasonable reaction, he thinks.

“Jack-”

“What fucking courthouse?” It’s louder this time, almost enough to pause the chaos of the ED. 

Jack’s voice drips with what sounds like rage to most of those who hear him but is unmistakably fear to Dana and Robby. 

Neither of them have ever seen Jack like this, this scared, struggling this hard to keep it together, truly raising his voice for anything other than to quiet down an unruly patient. His eyes find Dana’s and they’re glassier than she’s ever seen them, the intensity of his gaze making it painfully clear he’s hanging on every word and the wrong ones will shatter him. 

She swallows and opens her mouth and Jack knows what she’s about to say before she even says it. And she does. The name of your courthouse. 

“I’ll triage.” He says it before Dana has even finished, the words hollow and breathless and commanding all at once. He spins and starts off to the bay doors with nothing more. He obviously knows from the report Dana gave that they won’t need triage. He just needed to get out of there and try to create an excuse to stay in the ambulance bay. He knows Robby won’t let him, that Robby and Dana already know you’re at that courthouse, could be a victim. 

Robby and Dana share another look, So you work at a courthouse. This courthouse. “Fuck,” Dana mutters, “I really hope we don’t end up meeting her today.”

Jack’s hand dives in his pocket as he strides to the ambulance bay. He already knows in his heart that there’s not going to be a text from you saying that you’re okay. He hasn’t felt his phone buzz. He never even kept his phone on him until you. 

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have any messages, waking his phone and seeing none hits him like a freight train all the same, right in the chest. It threatens to bring him to his knees, make him sick, but he can’t. He sets it all aside. If you do come out of one of the ambulances he can hear in the distance you’re going to need him at his best. But what if you’re one of the two people dead at the scene? He has to shove that out of his mind too, can’t give into the complete panic that threatens to consume him. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

His fingers fly across his phone automatically, calling you having become so routine. He prefers it so much to texting, hearing your voice, communicating more directly. “Call me,” he starts, “the second you get this message. Or fucking text me,” his voice breaks, “please. Fucking please.” He hangs up and calls again, knowing he’ll get your voicemail again but trying anyway because it’s all he can do. 

He’s helpless, powerless, he can’t do anything to try and save you and that threatens to swallow him whole. 

Your voicemail recording telling people to leave a message plays again and all Jack can wonder is if this is all he’ll have left of your voice in his life. Your voice on your mailbox, maybe some voicemails you’ve left him, videos, voice memos you’ve sent. All distorted by recording, not your real voice. He can’t remember what your real voice sounds like all of the sudden. What your laugh sounds like, how you sound when you’re sleepy or in the throes of pleasure or telling him you love him. God, did he even tell you he loved you the last time he saw you, when he said goodbye? 

“I need you to call me,” he says into the phone again, pauses. “I love you.” He takes a ragged breath in and speaks through his teeth. “I love you so fucking much, so you have to be okay and you have to fucking call me.”

He sends a series of texts asking you to call him or text him or call the hospital or do anything to let him know you’re okay, asking if you are okay, asking where you are as though you’re going to respond. He already knows you’re in the back of one of those ambulances because of fucking course you are, because he’s not allowed to have anything good in his life apparently. How could he be so stupid to think differently?  

“Hey, we don’t need triage for this. The numbers are controlled.” Robby walks out to stand next to Jack in the ambulance bay. “If you want to stay you can, but you can’t wait out here to see who shows up, you have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, jump on the first patient that pulls up, I know, I got it,” he interrupts Robby. 

There’s a silence as Robby passes him a gown and ties for him before he does the same for Robby. 

“Jack, if she’s in one you cannot-”

“Like fuck I can’t.” It’s just a statement. Cool and collected and a projection of indifference. It scares Robby more than if Jack had yelled. 

“No, actually brother, you can’t. I’m telling you right now. You’re not working on her. We don’t work on family, on significant others, and you would tell me the exact same thing. It’s too risky, you’ll be too clouded.” Robby watches Jack’s jaw clench and roll as he stares out at the street. 

He wants to argue that of course he’ll be clear, he’ll be focusing on saving you, he’ll have never been so clear in his life. But part of him knows that seeing you like that on his trauma table, your blood all over the table and him and his hands might make him freeze.

“Fine.” Jack whispers. “But if she’s,” Jack has to pause and take a shuddery breath. “If she’s gone or really going and it’s inevitable you have to let me in. You have to let me try to save her. You have to let me code her, Michael.”

He can taste the rising bile in his throat just at having to talk about coding you.

The first ambulance pulls up before Robby can respond and Jack’s on it so fast Robby’s surprised Jack doesn’t get smacked in the face by the door opening. 

It’s not you. It’s someone who is very much not you and is clearly one of the iffy ones. 

Disassociate. Compartmentalize. Do the job. ABC. Assess. Stabilize. Repeat.

Jack forces himself to go emotionally numb as he listens to the paramedic rattle off vitals and history, trying so very hard to focus on this, something he can do, even if it’s not for you. By the time they hit trauma one Jack’s fine and in full swing, running it like he would any other trauma. Nobody on the team in the room with him suspects anything is amiss.  

He hates the way he can’t see the other’s who come in, that he has to stay with this patient until they’re stable and can’t go looking for you. He chastises himself for not having brought you here before or at least having you meet Dana and Robby. They don’t even know what you look like, couldn’t identify you.

“Jack!” He glances at Dana who stands at the door as he preps for the chest tube. “What’s her name?”

He yells your name at her, impassive and stoic as he reaches for the scalpel, ignoring the looks everyone throws each other at the slightest tremor in his voice.

“I’ll look for her.” Dana promises. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. He’ll fall apart. 

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

The restaurant you’re at has to be the fanciest place you’ve ever been to. It’s the hottest place in the city and you have no idea how Jack snagged reservations here for dinner to finish out celebrating your one year anniversary. 

The lighting and low hum of other patrons talking to each other and glasses and silverware and plates tinkling is cinematic. You feel like the main character. But then that’s always how Jack makes you feel. 

“I got you something.” He pulls out a wrapped rectangular object. 

You click your tongue and tsk at him. “We said we’d do them at home! I didn’t bring yours!”

“I know. I have something for you at home too.” His eyes sparkle in the flickering candle light, a little smirk pulling up. “I didn’t mean for it to be a double entendre, but both are true.” You snort a laugh at him and take the gift from him. “Open it.” He’s still smiling, eyes still sparkling,  but there’s something there. He’s nervous. It makes you even more curious. 

You carefully unwrap the object until it reveals itself as a hardcover book. That same one Jack had in his hand a year ago and that you told him was bad and gave him a summary of over coffee. 

“Oh, Jack,” you say softly, eyes getting a little watery. It’s so perfect. So sweet and sentimental. The book that brought you together, that gave you each other. It’s almost like a physical representation of the foundation of your relationship in a way. 

“You have to open it,” he instructs you in a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow but do as he says. 

‘Move in with me?’ is written on the blank first page. 

You look between the page and Jack. “Is this?” You look back at the page and then up at him again. “Are you really asking…?”

He nods. “Move in with me. Or move somewhere with me, we can get our own place, it doesn’t have to be my apartment. We basically live together anyway at this point. Let’s just make it official, yeah? Wherever you want, you can decorate however you want. Just as long as it’s our place.”

You bring a hand to your mouth for a second before using your napkin to dab at the inner corners of your eyes to stop the tears from falling and look back at him. 

“You’re a romantic, Jack Abbot,” you hum all dreamily. 

“You better not tell anyone. Can’t have you ruining my street cred.” He smirks, but his expression and the way he fidgets show he’s still anxious. “So?”

You realize then you never actually answered him. Sniffling a little laugh and letting a few tears fall you give him his answer, voice thick and full of emotion. “Yeah, I think I’m willing to accept those terms. I’d love to move in with you… Peter.”

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

He hears you counting to yourself before he sees you. “One, two…”

It’s not loud, just said in a normal voice, softer if anything because of how you’re panting, but Jack is so on edge and so desperate to find you he’d subconsciously been listening closely to his surroundings, military training kicking in. His head snaps to you and he doesn’t even know what to think when he sees you being rolled in on top of a gurney, performing CPR that would rival the quality of his own. 

“Why is she..?” He hears Robby question the paramedic as you roll in. 

“She was performing them just as well as we could and it was better to just scoop and run,” the paramedic explains. “She must have had one hell of an instructor.”

“Peter!” You yell, without looking up, not sure if he’s still here. You’re so used to it by now that the nickname is just what comes out of your mouth as you look for him. He’d texted you to let you know he was going in for a bit.  

Jack could sob and the entire team in the room with him can feel a crushing tension shatter. Maybe he does get a little teary just from the sheer relief. He tells himself it’s sweat in his eyes.

“Yeah Doll?” He yells back, not giving a fuck about everyone hearing him call you Doll, and you calling him Peter, knowing full well he’s going to have so much explaining to do about this entire situation, the confusion in the room palpable. 

“I’m okay!” This time he does laugh to himself. 

“Yeah I’d say so,” he mutters, smiling. He’s still anxious to see you, get his own eyes on you, feel you with his own hands. 

It’s only about thirty more seconds before his patient is stable enough and he can rip his gloves and gown off and start putting fresh gloves on as he walks into the trauma room you’d been wheeled into. Normally he’d yell out for someone to talk to him or ask what they’ve got but not this time. This time he doesn’t even care about who’s on the table, only the person who came off it. Only you. 

You’re standing to the side now, watching Robby and the rest of the team work, impassive as pink tears stream down your face from the dried blood on it. You’re just so fucking overwhelmed by everything and now that you’re not doing CPR everything that’s happened is hitting you at once. 

Jack says your name as he moves to you, needs his hands on you. 

“Are you hurt? Were you hit?” He rushes out. His voice brings you back and you look up at him with wide, terrified eyes. He goes to look you over but you latch onto him, hugging him tightly, shaking a bit. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m, I’m sorry,” you start to rattle off, fisting at his scrub top and clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. In the moment he might just be. 

He hugs you back just as hard, kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t care who sees right now, all he cares about is you. “It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m just so fucking glad you’re okay. I thought… I thought you were…” He doesn’t have to finish, you know what he means. “I can’t fucking lose you. I love you way the fuck too much.”

You’ve been so wrapped up in each other neither of you have noticed that Robby’s patient, the one you were doing CPR on, has started to code again. “Abbot, need you here!”

You let him go, nod at him. “Go on,” you whisper, “I’ll be right here. I’m okay. I love you more.” Jack nods at you and walks over, jumping in and assisting Robby.

It’s once you’re out of Jack’s arms, away from his warm body and more grounded in reality that you notice how cold you are, how you’re swaying because he was supporting you far more than you realized, how lightheaded you are, how your abdomen and chest really fucking hurt. You chalk it up to the adrenaline wearing off and being sore from the chest compressions you just did. 

On the other side of the room an instrument tray gets knocked over, metal hitting the floor in a loud clang. It startles you, makes you jump and twist quickly to see what it was, if it was another gun, another shot. You feel something almost tearing, a sharp pain across your abdomen and lower chest, a feeling of sticky warmth against your shirt.

You sway a little, start to realize how much worse the pain is now. It’s bad enough that you can’t even make noise to express the pain. There’s no air in your lungs, you swear. You realize your lightheadedness is now much, much worse, that you’re shivering from how cold you are. Or are you just shaking? You can’t tell. It doesn’t make sense. The room isn’t even that cold. You shouldn’t be so cold. Not unless.

You pull your shirt up slowly and look down and run your hand over your skin and sure enough, there’s a bullet hole seeping blood, about half way between your nipple line and belly button, skin now covered in a dark bruise. 

You cough a little, it’s quiet. It starts feeling like there’s water in your lungs. Like you can’t get any oxygen in even though you’re in a room full of it. The metallic taste in your mouth is what manages to seep into what’s left of your consciousness next. You cough again, into your hand, and feel something wet hit your skin. Blood. 

It hits you. You’re drowning in your own blood. That’s why it feels like you can’t breathe. You’ve been shot. In a bad place, one of the worst places, Jack had told you that night. You get scared, feel your heart pounding. It feels like you’re dying. You don’t want to die, don’t want to leave Jack. You’d just finished moving into your new place together, were going to spend all weekend unpacking and painting and getting furniture where you wanted it. You were going to make your home.

Time. You were supposed to have more time together.

“Hey, Jack,” you slur softly, struggling to keep yourself standing. Luckily he hears you. Your use of his first name and the slur to your voice has him panicking again already. Time slows as he turns around to take you in, eyes going from your face and the blood coating your teeth and trickling from your mouth as you try and smile reassuringly at him, down to your torso where you’re still holding your shirt up just enough for him and everyone else in the room to see the bullet hole and bruising marring your skin. “I think, I think I’m not good, it’s not good.” Your vision tunnels so fast you can just barely see Jack’s expression of sheer abject unadulterated horror and panic as you get out your last words. “Nipples to navel… no man’s land.”

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

Peter. Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter. Yes, I worked in a bookstore through college.

[ohhowjooniewept]

friendship group jungkook x y/n

fluff, angst, filthy smut

10k<

——

having a big friendship group was something that most people couldn’t understand. the dynamics between each and every person were important, like a well oiled machine that churned out a mixture of jokes and joy.

you had been friends with namjoon and yoongi for years, meeting taehyung, yejin and jin in your first year of university. yoongi introduced hoseok, who in turn introduced jimin, who of course, introduced jungkook.

you were incredibly close to them all, with the exception of the bambi eyed boy, who for some reason, you just couldn’t crack. it wasn’t that you didn’t get along, on the contrary - you were the most alike and he was always extremely kind towards you. it had been years and years since you first met, and you were able to have small conversations but there was an air of tension that followed you both that neither of you understood. well, you pretended not to anyway.

it was a secret to no one, except jungkook, that you were head over heels in love with him. yoongi would groan every time he’d see the starry look in your eyes once the conversation shifted towards the younger man, with yejin and jimin giggling like their lives depended on it.

“you should just get married and leave the rest of us to finally recover from your rambles.” he grumbled, once, laid out on your sofa with biscuit crumbs on his chest.

you rolled your eyes at him, frowning. “shut up yoongi, that would require him to actually like me back.”

he groaned so loudly that you found yourself grabbing the nearest pillow and plowing it into his face. “god, you’re both such idiots.” he muttered with a shake of his head.

———

jungkook had an aura around him that most described as electrifying. he knew he could walk into any room and make a friend, or have eyes stay on him for the duration of the night - he knew he had presence and it was something he enjoyed.

one thing he didn’t know, however, was how to tell the girl he had been in love with for multiple years, his feelings. add the fact that she was also in his friendship group, he knew he was utterly hopeless.

years of knowing and seeing one another weekly, but he still struggled to hold a 10 minute conversation between you both. between stuttering words and clenched jaws - he could speak to everyone else in the room as though it was a god given talent, but you? for you, he was hopeless.

every girlfriend, every fling and every message in his inbox was a way to rid himself of you, but you plagued his thoughts and every inch of his desires.

———

“right, why are you saying this to me again?” jin questioned as he cooked.

the entire group were at namjoon’s house to celebrate his new promotion, with bottles of wine sitting in the fridge and laughter heartily coming from the living room.

“jin, please.” jungkook groaned, leaning on the counter beside him. “yoongi won’t listen to me anymore. says i talk too much.

jin looked straight at him. “you do.”

“what? this is the first time i’m opening up about this to you.”

jin looked over again, more pointed. “first time this week.”

jungkook groaned once more, overgrown pout on his face as he rubbed over his eyes.

“listen.” jin began. “you can walk, or in your case run, in circles all you want. why can’t you just be honest with her, tell her how you feel?”

“i can’t even have a conversation with her without feeling like i’m going to pass out.”

yejin walked into the kitchen, hair messy and lipstick smudged from the wine she had been drinking. her eyes fell on the pout on jungkook’s face before giggling.

“let me guess, yoongi won’t let you confess to him anymore, now you’re terrorising jin?”

“bingo.” the older man grinned.

jungkook frowned. “is this just a running gag, now?”

“hard to feel sorry for you when you’re the reason for your own problems, kook.” yejin slid next to jin, moaning over the scent of multiple little dishes. “i mean, have you tried asking her out? even platonically? have you guys ever purposefully been alone with each other?”

jungkook’s frown deepened, he hated being friends with intellectuals. stupid yejin, stupid namjoon, jin and yoongi. the rest weren’t to be trusted with this knowledge; they’d blab to you in a heartbeat. little did you know, you had taken them for yourself. they were yours informants, sworn to secrecy.

“well, i guess not but…i don’t think she’d be entirely comfortable with just me.” he confessed. “she gets shy and quiet when i speak to her. she doesn’t laugh or joke the same as when she’s with all of us.”

the two looked over at the tall boy, eyes brows furrowed. they then turned to look at one another, both shaking their head. “god, why did you curse us with idiots for friends.” yejin grumbled, allowing jin to feed her ahead of everyone.

“you guys are mean.” jungkook grumbled. “at least yoongi pretends to be nice at first.”

with a roll of jin’s eyes, he handed him a few plates before shoo’ing him away, yejin following with her hands full. in the living room, you were stood by the tv, glass in hand, giggling away as you watched yoongi and taehyung battle it out on mario cart. the former was grunting and yelling, uncharacteristically, whilst the latter grinned wide as he won another round.

“you’re getting old.” tae smirked.

yoongi gave him a glare, before standing up to help yejin put her plates down. “you don’t get hit enough for my liking.”

the wine was beginning to make your brain hazy, and you felt slightly tipsy. it was no secret that you were the lightweight of the group, which was why you were on a strict one glass policy whenever you were with your group.

the living room table was set, adorned with finger food and a bowl of larger dishes, everyone tucking in. jungkook took a seat on the coach on the left, leaving a space beside him before his eyes flickered up to you, hovering over the table behind hobi, waiting to be given a plate. his eyes stayed trained to your face, a reddish flush evident on your cheeks that made his heart beat painfully. fuck, you were so pretty.

“okay. this weekend, what are we doing?” yejin clapped, as you began filling your plate. “you know i love pigging out with you guys, but we should celebrate joonie properly. you’ve really been waiting for this for so long.”

the dimpled boy grinned, blushing slightly. “i’m happy to do whatever, this is enough for me.”

“boring.” jimin groaned, shaking his head. “we need to go out.”

your eyes brushed over the seating arrangement, noticing the only free spot was between yejin and jungkook, the latter already staring up at you with too large eyes and parted lips. you wanted to scream, the little girl in you clawing her way through your body at the thought of sitting next to your crush.

with a tinge in your cheeks, you made your way over, wobbling slightly as you began to sit down. jungkook’s reflexes were fast, one hand on your thigh and the other taking control of your wine, letting you sit down comfortably.

his touch didn’t register with your brain immediately, but once you sat down and looked, noticing his hand remaining on your thigh whilst he looked up to join in on the conversation with the others, your brain began to short circuit. he was touching you. his hand. on your thigh. touching.

you had never noticed how big his hands were until now, your eyes flickering over every inch and knuckle, core clenching and mouth watering. you wanted him in a way that was neither healthy nor acceptable, but right now, who could blame you?

jungkook wasn’t fairing any better. his heart was beating so loudly, he swore he could feel it in his throat. he hadn’t even thought before touching you, it felt like second nature and once his hand found home on your thigh, he simply couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

you both sat, tense and head swirling, his hand firmly where it belonged.

“what do you think y/n, you down?” yejin murmured next to her, bumping her shoulder.

“down..” you cleared your throat, fixing your position. “down for what, sorry?”

her eyes flickered down, before meeting your gaze with an all knowing smirk. “the new club downtown on saturday.”

“isn’t it kinda expensive? i hear the drinks are pricey.” you cringed.

jimin scoffed. “with a face like yours, you won’t be spending a penny, don’t you worry.”

you exchanged giggles, the group going back to exchanging conversations as you all drank. the wine was getting to you, so much so, you hardly noticed jungkook’s hand flexing on your thigh, gripping tighter and higher.

——

saturday had finally come and you went all out. everyone was dressed nicely, excited to go christen a new club, the electricity palpable and running through you. you knew you looked good tonight, you had gone the extra mile - sleek hair and dress both tight and perhaps too short. your heels made your legs look longer than usual and your makeup sultry - you had one single goal tonight. jungkook.

you were sick of this cat and mouse game. you liked him. maybe a lot more than like, but regardless, you were going to get a few shots in you, tell him how you feel whilst you felt confident, and then get black out drunk so you wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. solid plan.

unfortunately, said plan meant nothing once your eyes fell on him.

broad shoulders and piercings catching the light of the club, drink in hand as his t shirt stretched across his chest. every plan, thought and idea fluttered away from your head, leaving a hollow echo chamber in which all you could hear was a repeat of his name.

he turned to look around, noticing you walking towards the group with hugs and greetings. he blinked once or twice, before turning around and openly groaning. fuck.

“yeah, yeah. pack it up lover boy.” yoongi scoffed, before you walked over to give him a hug too.

jungkook spun again, meeting your gaze as you shyly reached over to hug him as per usual. he never let you get far, always closing the distance himself and wrapping his arms around you as he held you tightly.

“hm. you smell good.” he murmured next to your ear, leaving a shiver down your spine.

“is that it?” you cheekily asked, eyebrow raised.

he smirked wide and broad. “you look good. better than good.”

you grinned up at him before letting him go. he, however, let his arm rest loosely around your waist as you turned to the group, gushing with yejin about how good she looked. you tried to ignore how badly your heart was thumping, he was never this bold - sure he could be touchy but that was jungkook, he practically resided on namjoon’s lap. this felt different, but you couldn’t bare yourself to get your hopes up.

his eyes flickered downwards, observing you and wracking over your body. you looked better than ever, and it both excited and angered him. he knew he’d have to have his wits about him tonight, if a man even approached you, he was sure he’d combust.

“okay, drinks!” taehyung exclaimed over the music, clapping his hands.

you and yejin took a seat at the table whilst the boys filtered down to the bar, the loss of jungkook’s arm both palpable and healing to your racing brain.

your eyes travelled to across the club, where your boys stood, jungkook ignoring evident glances and women sauntering over to him. you couldn’t help the grimace.

“you’re too pretty to frown.” yejin cooed, moving your chin so you were facing her. “especially over a boy.”

you blushed. “wish he wasn’t so handsome, can’t believe everyone sees what i see.”

“ah,” she grinned wickedly. “funny. you’ve had guys trailing you and watching you from the second you walked in, and believe me, he’s not happy.”

your eyes widened at her comment, eyes flickering to jungkook again, who’s gaze was already on you. you broke the contact, embarrassed before turning to her properly.

“enough jungkook talk, what’s on the agenda tonight? what is yeji doing?” you asked, hands in hers.

“i’m not leaving empty handed.” she wiggled her eyebrows, causing a fit of laughter that remained as the boys came back, looking at you both inquisitively.

yoongi reached over to hand you your drink, to which you thanked him gently, sipping slowly.

you felt the seat beside you dip, focused on your conversation with the boy and girl beside you, until you felt a warm hand press against your bare thigh. yejin and yoongi continued, unaware, as your head turned to face the tatted boy beside you, who drank his drink as though this was the most casual thing he had ever done. the thump in his chest argued otherwise.

you were sure your cheeks were flaming red, and your thigh began to tremble beneath his touch. you wanted him to go higher whilst also let go, you were sure your brain would wither away soon with how hazy you felt.

“like your drink?” he asked, suddenly getting closer to you so you could hear him over the music.

“mm, fruity.” you nodded, eyes never leaving his.

he grinned. “hm.” his hand flexed on your thigh. “have i told you how good you look, tonight?”

“only once.” you guys were flirting. the little girl inside your body was screaming so loudly.

he tutted, shaking his head as his grip tightened. “my bad, baby. you look stunning.” he whispered intimately into your ear. “love this little dress, new hm? would have remembered if you’d worn it before.”

all you could do is nod, as he pulled away slightly from your ear, your faces much too close to be deemed appropriate. just a little closer, he thought, eyes flickering down to your lips. just a little curve to your head and he’d take care of your tiny pout, he was sure.

before you could continue, however. “y/nnie, come on.” jimin shouted, from across the booth as he got up, forcing you to yank away from jungkook with wide eyes and parted lips. your eyes looked up to the blonde haired boy, a smirk on his face. “time to dance.”

“jimin i’m not tipsy enough.” you groaned.

“take this shot.” namjoon pushed the drink over to you, yejin giggling beside you.

you picked it up, hands still shaky, and tipped it back, grimacing deeply whilst everyone laughed and whooped around you. you shook your head quickly, as to rid yourself of the taste, before he grabbed your arm, pulling you up from your seat and guiding you down. you grabbed yejin on the way, who waved excitedly at the rest of the boys, shouting something about actually having fun.

it wasn’t long until you guys were dancing away, giggling loudly and twirling with one another. jimin was the life of your group, whilst yejin was the soul - if you ever wanted to have fun, it had to involve the pair who only ever seeked out joy.

the alcohol was already rushing to your head, leaving you a tipsy mess. being the worlds biggest lightweight never helped when you wanted to get drunk because you knew in two drinks, you were completely finished, but it was always nice to get a buzz whilst you were out.

hobi and jin soon joined, with the former’s arms around you as you danced and sang together, fits of giggles being shared.

“i don’t think i’m going to survive tomorrow, my heads already so gone.” you shouted over at him, music thumping.

“yeah, me neither - your little boyfriend is about to kill me with his stare.” he giggled louder, throwing his head back.

your eyebrows furrowed before turning your head to the side, catching jungkook’s heavy gaze.

eyebrows furrowed and a dark expression on his face, you could see the clench of his jaw and it made your core whine. he was so pretty despite being evidently bothered. the thought, the idea, that he would be this way over hobi dancing with you sent a million electricity volts through your body, your eyes never leaving his.

“we spoil him too much, now we can’t even dance with you without him planning our murder.”

you broke eye contact, looking at hobi with an excited thrill. “i want him so bad.” you groaned quietly, head falling to his shoulder.

“believe me. you could have him.”

——

the night was going strong, and you had slowed down with the drinks and paced yourself appropriately to match your friends. taehyung wanted to smoke outside, so you accompanied him.

you and jungkook had been playing a fine line all night, dancing around the tension, eye contact and fleeting touches but never anything more. it was driving you insane, you knew that maybe he wanted you in some way but if it wasn’t the way you wanted, then you couldn’t have him. you wouldn’t be able to move on and it wasn’t fair.

you both stood outside, taehyung taking out a cigarette whilst the wind nipped at your too warm skin, offering some calm to the night.

“fuck. forgot my lighter, i’ll be two seconds alright?” he groaned with a tip of his head making you nod, resting your head against the wall of the smoking shelter.

you watched him retreat, closing your eyes for a few moments before you heard a shuffling of feet behind you. your eyebrows furrowed, thinking nothing of it until a large hand gripped your hip, twirling you around to face them.

your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. why was he here? how could he be here? touching you so casually and without thought; hand bruising your hip with every passing second as he approached you with nothing but clear disrespect.

“missed me?” jaehyun, your ex, grinned down at you, lowering his head to meet your height.

your ex of two years, who had terrorised you to an inch of your life stood before you, hands on your body as though it was his every right. your relationship with him had been turbulent to say the least.

it had started once you decided you couldn’t see jungkook kissing another girl at a random party, you felt sick and you’d had enough, you were finally moving on from the schoolgirl crush you had on him. you met jaehyun and he was seemingly perfect at ridding you of jungkook’s lasting touch on your heart, until he suddenly wasn’t.

he’d get angry whenever you went out with your friends, despite knowing them and understanding the years long dynamic you all shared. the mere mention of namjoon, hoseok and jimin were enough to drive him into a rage that left you shaking all night, only for him to appear the next morning with flowers and empty promises that it would never happen again.

you’d once mentioned jungkook in a passing, harmless comment and had to nurse your face for the next two weeks as payment. he was violent regarding any man, but it was the bright eyed boy that set him off the most.

it only escalated, but by that point, you felt entirely trapped. it wasn’t until yejin had come over after months of silence on your part, and broke down at the sight of you. you’d never forget the way she wailed whilst examining the bruises on your arms and chest, holding you like a baby before packing your bags and taking you from your shared apartment with him.

you don’t remember what happened after that, it was traumatic and it had taken a year of therapy to even consider unpacking it properly. you remembered being sat with the boys, yejin holding you tight whilst they all promised to keep you safe. you’d spend a night at each of their homes in rotation for months and months, at the fear of night terrors and something worse.

the nights you’d stay with jungkook were the calmest, the scent of him imbedded deep into his home enough to lull you to sleep as he snored in the living room. your friends had supported you to an inch of your life, built up your confidence and protected you. you were no longer the meek girl jaehyun had forced you to be, you stood straight and you spoke clearly - but the sight of him; the feel of him, broke you out of it immediately.

“get off of me.” you shakily whispered, hand grabbing the hand on your hip and pushing it away with all your might, forcing yourself to step away. “you don’t get to touch me.”

his eyes darkened, the patronising grin falling from his face immediately. “you know, i thought i taught you better than that. made sure not to let you talk back, remember?”

his words made you flinch, clearly referring to the times he would plow a fist into you if you ever spoke up even remotely. you began inching backwards, throat bobbing and hands shaking.

“and that dress? so short, it’s like you’re begging for my attention. two years later and still acting like a slut, y/n?” his face contorted, as though even looking at you made him angry. “used to be such a good girl. used to fucking listen.”

“don’t speak to me. you’re..you’re not allowed to come near me.” you wheezed out as your hands shook and your stomach twisted, the horrible feeling of anxiety and fear beginning to take over you. yejin had helped you file a restraining order. he wasn’t allowed to do this to you.

“yeah? and who’s going to fucking stop me.” he growled, hand grabbing your arm tightly making you welp whilst his other pulled you forward to his chest. “fucking bitch. i’ll take you home, hm? teach you a lesson, teach you what you should have remembered.”

you couldn’t breathe. couldn’t think. eyes closing and body shaking. his hand began gripping your face tightly, spouting abuse at you as your brain completely slipped away, shutting yourself down as trauma gripped the edges like a vice.

suddenly, you felt his touch completely leave you, forcing you to open them up again to find jaehyun on the floor, jungkook pounding his fists into his face. you could see taehyung shouting something, namjoon pulling you away and hobi running back inside where the others remained, no doubt to bring them to you.

you couldn’t think, your brain disassociating as your body trembled, prints of jaehyun’s hands all over your body. were you crying? tears were streaming down your face and you weren’t even aware, trembling as namjoon took you to a quiet corner, worried beyond belief.

taehyung had rushed back to their table to get a lighter, when namjoon, hobi and himself agreed to step out too, needing a smoke and fresh air. within moments of being outside, his eyes had widened at the sight of your abusive ex attacking you. he’d never get used to the look of fear in your face that felt so constant years ago, but seeing it back was enough to make him see red.

he wasn’t thinking, grabbing the man and plowing his fists into his face, watching him fall back. he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, only doing so once both yoongi and jimin had managed to get him off, watching as jaehyun scurried away as fast as he could, despite bleeding heavily from his face.

turning around, seeing you sat with your eyes unmoving and tears streaming, he wanted to chase the fucker and do it again. his baby, his girl - how could he do this to you? how could he look at you and not see anything other than stars and moon?

“y/nnie, can you hear me?” he cooed as yejin sobbed beside you, holding you tightly. the boys were all a nervous wreck, yoongi shaking angrily and the others trying to regain your attention.

after a few moments, your eyes began to focus. you met jungkook’s gaze first, your gaze flickering over him in a momentary lapse of confusion. “he’s gone, y/n. jungkook took care of it.” taehyung sniffled, crouched beside you.

a moment of silence was shared between you, the sounds of both yejin and tae filtering the air as the others ran their hands through their hair nervously.

“promise?” you asked, voice breaking making the tatted boy almost whine in sadness. “promise you, he won’t bother you again.”

you simply nodded. you hadn’t noticed how hard you were crying, with tears ruining your perfectly applied makeup and your chest heaving in what could only be fear. “i’m sorry joonie, was supposed to be your night.” you choked out.

the taller boy tutted over at you, pressing a kiss to your head. “don’t be silly, y/nnie.” he shook his head. “jungkook, why don’t you take her home? stay with her, yeah? think she’ll feel the best with you there.”

you hardly registered what was happening, feeling jungkook’s hands taking hold of yours as he helped you up. everyone took turns holding you for a second or two, ensuring personally that you were okay. yejin pressed kisses to your cheek through her own tears, promising you that you were safe and that nothing else would happen before crying further into jin’s chest. jungkook watched, almost helplessly as he waited for the uber to arrive, yoongi patting him on the back. it wasn’t long until he received the notification on his phone.

he looked at you now, as you sniffled and walked back over to him, his arms wrapping around you protectively as you all bid your goodbyes. you slid into the uber first, his arms cradling you as you shuffled into his shoulder, breathing in the same familiar scent that would soothe you.

after a while of silence, your eyebrows furrowed, taking in your surroundings. “this isn’t the way to my house.”

he looked down at you, your little hand on his. he pondered before holding it up to his mouth, pressing a little kiss to your fingers. “i know baby. taking you to mine.”

your heart was thumping again, watching him as he caressed your hands, kissing each fingertip so gently you wondered if he was kissing them at all. an act so intimate you wondered what it meant.

it wasn’t long until you arrived, mourning the loss of warmth jungkook’s body provided as he pulled you out gently, taking you inside.

you’d been here a million times before but you never tired of how warm it felt, how much it resembled each bit of him. you pulled off your heels, your height dropping significantly before shuffling to the bathroom, intent on taking your makeup off immediately.

the joys of having two skincare obsessed women in the group meant yejin and yourself kept these boys stocked, considering sleepovers were a norm. jungkook let you take your time, no words exchanged as he grabbed you a t shirt from his wardrobe, knowing how much you liked sleeping in them.

“kookie, can i shower?” you asked, quietly as you peeked your head out the bathroom.

“course you can, i got you the rose body wash that you like the other day too.” he grinned over at you, hands roaming his hair. he handed over the oversized tee you loved so much, heart skipping a beat as you gave him a soft smile. “you’re the best.” you muttered back, hearing a little chuckle from him.

you watched as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets before closing the door, your eyes screwed shut for a moment. so much had happened tonight, from feeling utterly helpless one second to so safe and warm in jungkook’s presence.

you showered relatively quickly, wanting no more than to sink into the plush mattress of his bed. “you hungry?” he asked once you came out, having showered himself in his other bathroom, dressed in a similar t shirt and plaid bottoms. he looked so cute.

“no, i’m okay.” he looked over with a small double take, drinking you in, soft skin and barely hidden legs. god, you drove him insane.

he nodded. “okay, wanna head to bed? it’s been a long night for you.” you shuffled in your spot before nodding.

he’d usually sleep on his couch whenever you were round, considering it was quite large and comfortable - of course, he didn’t want to intrude either. he had too much respect for you to ever think about imposing.

“will you..will you stay with me? tonight?” you whispered quietly, looking down as you asked.

he didn’t reply, simply began walking over to you and gently taking your hands in his, littering your smaller fingers with kisses like he did in the uber. your breath hitched as you met his gaze, watching as he nodded before leading you over to his bedroom, hand clasped over yours.

you let yourself be pulled by him, watching as he rounded the bed, knowing you preferred the side closest to the window, before getting in; watching you do the same. you both snuggled into the warmth of his covers, a groan leaving your lips.

he turned to look at you, as you did the same. he couldn’t handle how cute you looked, fresh faced and cuddled into his pillow. he wanted to protect you forever, have you sheltered from anything that didn’t wish even a semblance of joy.

“i’m sorry you got hurt, kookie.” you whispered, the little pout he loved so much forming. “i had no idea he was there and i just froze..i don’t know.”

he cooed at you, inching closer before slowly pulling you in by your waist so the space between you had disappeared. your hands moved to his chest without thinking, the urge coming naturally.

“don’t apologise, y/n. should have killed him for how he was speaking to you, i’m so sorry he did that.” his eyes shut tightly for a second, as though the memory pained him. “he’ll get what’s coming to him, i’ll make sure of it.”

you looked away, eyes falling to his neck and the rise and fall of his chest. “how do you feel?” he asked.

his hands moved to cup your face. you were both inching closer and closer without even realising it. “scared, honestly. i’ve been doing so good and now he’s reappeared.” you all but whimpered. “just wanna forget.”

“yeah?” he whispered, lifting your chin again to look at him, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “want me to help you forget, pretty girl?”

“please.” you nodded slowly, your eyes flickering to his lips whilst he did the same, the two of you dancing around the tension but tonight was enough.

he looked between your lips and eyes once more, before brushing his nose against yours. you tilted upwards before you felt a faint brush of his lips.

he pulled away, only slightly, looking at the way your eyes fluttered close, all resolve fluttering away from him before he properly pressed his lips to yours again.

kissing jungkook felt like coming home. consisting of passion and years of yearning, feeling like it had finally come to an end. all compiled into this single moment.

you pulled him closer, mouths interlocking as you shared a sweet embrace, his arms wrapping around your entire body before you began pulling away. the kiss was only brief, but its impact left you reeling.

“fuck.” he whispered. your eyes remained shut for a moment longer, opening them up to find a look of hope pulling at his fingers. “i’m going to kiss you again, okay y/n? but before i do that, we need to talk.”

you nodded, eyes focused on his lips before meeting his gaze. “okay. you go first.”

he nervously laughed, sitting up slightly and giving him a moment to get his bearings. he opened his mouth a few times, before closing it, unsure of where to start. “sorry, just hard you know? telling the girl you’re in love with that..you’re in love with her.” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.

you could have sworn that the earth stopped spinning. you looked up at him, sitting up a little too fast, causing him to stop his rambled muttering before raising his eyebrows.

“what did you just say?” you all but whispered, eyes wide.

his mouth was gaping now, confusion littered on his face as though to question what had he actually said. once it dawned on him, his eyes matched the size of yours.

“oh…i mean i guess i said it. i..i get it if you don’t feel the same, i don’t want you to feel like you have to return the same feelings, you know?” he began again, this time much faster, the two of you completely sat up in bed. “but like can you blame me? loved you second i met you, y’know? always wanted to tell you but just get so shy around you, and you’re so pretty makes my brain shut down..”

whatever you had done in a past life, god bless. you were sure you would thank every god and every goddess for this very moment, your hands shaking as you grabbed his face, yanking it towards you and pressing your lips to his.

jungkook’s breath faltered for a second before realising what was happening. he wrapped his hands over your hips, careful not to touch the bruised skin your ex had caused, pulling you onto his lap immediately.

this kiss was unlike the other. though it shared the same passion and tension, this felt like a promise and declaration of love - a certainty that had waited to be confirmed for what felt like eons.

your mouths moved in unison, your fingers gripping into his hair as he brought you closer. he groaned into your mouth, your tongues moving together whilst you both pushed and pulled, yearning for more whilst every emotion ran through you. the feel of his piercing against your mouth felt cool; an odd feeling at first touch but quickly becoming something your brain felt addicted to.

he pulled away slowly for breath, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as he looked directly at you, nudging his nose with yours. “is that your way of telling me you like me?”

“i love you, you idiot.” you whispered back at him, the both of you resorting to pecks. “loved you for so long, can’t believe you haven’t told me until day.” he grinned at this, nudging your nose once more.

“yeah, you didn’t either.”

you rolled your eyes, playing with his hair from behind. “does this mean we can kiss all the time?” you asked, pecking him whilst excitedly bouncing in his lap.

he groaned loudly, hands flying to grab your waist carefully as you smothered his faces in excited kisses. “yeah, won’t ever keep my hands off of you again.”

jungkook, although elated, was fighting the demons that were currently erupting through his chest. you, in no more than his shirt and your underwear, bouncing in his lap, conveniently over his crotch where he was already fighting his growing hard on.

“fuck, y/n.” he groaned again, holding you down a little firmer, unaware that the action was now directly pushing your own core directly to his crotch. you let out a little noise, half moan half whimper; eyes connecting.

neither of you dared to move. the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable, especially after the night you had which is shy he began to pull you up, to rest you on your side of the bed again.

only, you placed your hands on his shoulders, pressing your core against his bulge firmly before rolling your hips experimentally. you couldn’t help the moan that left you, a noise leaving his lips that rivalled it.

“still…still wanna forget kookie, you’ll do that for me?” you asked, unable to stop your hips from moving in circles, not when it felt so good.

he nodded, as though in a trance, guiding your hips as he shuddered against you. “don’t want you to feel like i’m taking advantage, baby, you’ve had such a long night.” he whispered, though your actions never faltered.

sweet, sweet boy. you couldn’t believe this was happening, the man of your dreams, both your heart and brain no longer at odds but instead connected finally in matrimony. “wanted you for so long.” you breathed out with a shake of your head.

this was beyond anything he could imagine. with direct confirmation from you, he captured your lips once more, hands planted firmly on your waist as he dragged you up and down his clothed cock. you shared moans, quiet and unsure at first before you found yourself matching his movement, the two of you closer than ever in a way you had Both only dreamt of.

“fuck. we have to stop, or i’ll cum.” jungkook whined as he pulled away from your lips, arms entirely wrapping around your body as if to stop you, closing his eyes tightly. “and i plan to impress you, so..”

you panted, with both a slight nod and slight giggle before whimpering at the loss of pleasure. this only lasted a few more seconds before suddenly, you found yourself flipped, a squeal leaving you. jungkook hovered over you, peeling his shirt from his body before swooping down to catch your lips again.

you couldn’t help your wandering hands, fingers twitching over his naked chest. you had seen him shirtless before, notably when you had all gone to the beach, but the memory was seared into the crevice of your mind. feeling his skin so intimately was completely different.

your lips moved in unison before he broke away, whining at his own action as he pulled his t-shirt you wore. he looked at you for approval, to which you nodded before he pulled it up over your head.

jungkook groaned, loudly. the sight of your bare breasts were enough for him to go clinically insane, but the way you were looking up at him, eyes big and lips bruised. you would be the end of him.

“fuck, look at you. so pretty.” he reached for one of your breasts, listening to the quickening of your breath as he wrapped his mouth around one. biting, teasing and licking, he proceeded to leave honeyed marks on your skin, whilst your moans and squeaks egged him on.

he moved to your other, making sure to physically leave his claim over them with hickeys adorning your body. “need you, kook.” you whined, impatient.

the side of his mouth flickered up at the sound of your impatience, and as much as he wanted to ruin you immediately, he had waited too long for this to just end up rushing.

“need to prep you first, hm? gonna be patient for me?” he cooed as his hands continued cupping your breasts. you nodded, eagerly, hands locking into his hair as he gave them one last kiss before easing down your body, trailing kisses from your stomach to your hips. he kissed over the bruised skin jaehyun had caused, making your heart clench for a moment.

the boy you loved, with wild eyes and bruised lips, searing love into every crevice of skin he could reach, ridding you of the pain that disgusting man had placed on you. he was freeing you with every touch, with every promise hidden behind passionate touches, you felt so safe.

he parted your legs, eyes flickering up to meet yours. he grabbed the hem of your underwear, sliding it down so that he was met with your core, a noise of pure defeat leaving him at the sight of you. wet and clenching for him, yearning for his touch just as much as he yearned to taste you. “all for me, baby?”

you nodded, as he parted your legs further despite how suddenly shy you felt. he dipped his head, planting a chaste kiss to your clit, watching as your body jolted. with a smirk, he dove in.

he couldn’t help the noises that were leaving him as he sucked and licked, intoxicated by your taste. “taste so good, y/n.” he’d moan in between your legs. “could die here.” he’d add. “addicted to you.” he’d all but growl.

you couldn’t help the moans, you’d never felt like this before. sure you’d been eaten out before, but never by a man who acted like this was his last starving meal. jungkook hoisted your legs wider, as your hips lifted, your hands tight against his scalp.

“need to stretch you, fuck. need to make sure i fit, hm?” he teased, eyes connecting with yours as one of his tatted fingers teased your entrance whilst sucking on your clit. you hated the thought of any woman before you in his life, but you thanked every higher power above that he knew what he was doing, feeling your high in your stomach already.

he instered a finger, pumping at a pace that had your toes curling. the whines that were leaving you made him dizzy, he wanted more. it wasn’t long before he inserted another, beginning to thrust them in unison whilst you chanted his name.

he groaned at the sight of you lifting your hips, desperate to reach your high. he had no idea he was grinding into the bed, chasing a high of his own as he watched you quiver and moan. “so tight, y/n, can’t wait to feel you on my cock. hm? won’t be able to think once you’re being fucked right, baby.”

you nodded, head empty and hands shaking. “w-want it, kookie, want it so bad.”

his fingers quickened, getting rougher and going harder as he sucked on your clit. he could feel you getting restless, knew you were on the edge from the way you were pushing his head closer without even realising. he could feel his sick obsession in his brain growing rapidly knowing you wanted him just as much, it felt like nothing else mattered than making you good.

“jungkook.” you let out a high pitched squeal, feeling your high rapidly approaching before your legs began to shake, and hips began to raise. your high ran through you like a shot of electricity, as your moans grew higher, his fingers pumped faster and his hand pressed down onto your stomach, forcing you to feel every inch of your orgasm.

he parted from you after you began quivering from overstimulation, plopping his fingers into his mouth to memorise your addicting taste. he hovered over you once more, the tent in his bottoms too large for you to ignore.

“i hate that you’re so good at that.” you panted, unable to meet his eyes as your focused on his bulge. he smirked, watching you, placing your smaller hand onto it so you could feel him fully. “i’m all yours now baby. gonna eat you out every chance you give me.”

your eyes met, a shared grin forming between you both before you pulled him in sharply for a kiss. hot and heavy, you could taste yourself on him which drove you insane - you reached for his pyjama bottoms, pushing them down almost desperately.

parting from him, with hooded eyes, you looked down at his cock. so big and thick, prettier than any you’d ever seen before you let out the cutest moan. he swore he could die happy. “how are you this perfect, and you have a pretty dick?”

“are you trying to inflate my ego? it’s working. i’ll get that tatted on my chest, don’t play.”

you giggled up at him before pumping him, both hands moving up and down as you sighed. “want you inside me, kookie.” you peered up. “don’t make me wait anymore.”

he pressed one last kiss to you, groaning at the feel of your hands around his already sensitive member. he parted your legs, one peek at your messy core enough to drive him insane before he began rubbing the head over you.

“don’t think you’ll fit.” you whimpered, the feel of him all encompassing.

“i’ll make it fit, was born for you baby.” jungkook promised, as he began pushing his cock in, your core instantly clenching around him. he began slowly, until he was fully inside, pelvis to pelvis, eyes fluttering shut.

you’d never felt so full in your life, the stretch both delicious and overwhelming. your fingers clawed at his large biceps, whimpers and quivers filling in the air as he held you tightly, whispering sweet nothings about how good you were for him, how incredible you felt. once you gave him the green light, he began thrusting.

he couldn’t believe this is what he was missing out on. he couldn’t believe how tightly and warmly you felt around him, felt like he was finally coming home.

his hips snapped against yours slowly, letting you feel every inch as your moans got louder and louder. “faster, kook.” you begged, though you knew you never had to, he’d give you the world.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he chanted, his pace changing as he began to thrust faster per your request, pressing his head against yours. “feel so good, my y/n, my girl.”

you clenched around him over his words making him airily chuckle, thrusting harder at that. “yeah, like that? like me calling you my girl?”

“yeah, wanna be yours jungkook.” you whimpered back, legs reaching up to wrap around his waist as he began to thrust deeper.

the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air and he knew his neighbours would be furious tomorrow, but could hardly begin to care. “you are, hm? was always my girl, you’re all mine and i’m all yours.” he promised, biceps flexing beside your face. “won’t ever let you go.”

you mewled loudly, hands finding home in his hair as you pulled against the strands. “feel so full.”

“yeah? pussy loves it baby, loves taking it.” he growled back, head hiding in your neck, leaving hickeys.

you could already feel your high approaching, but you couldn’t bare for this to end yet, lightly pushing his chest. he immediately pulled himself up and stopped thrusting, looking down at you with furrowed eyes. “wanna ride you.” you whimpered to which he threw his head back in what could only be a pathetic groan.

“you’re going to kill me, y/n.”

soon, your positions had changed and you were slipping him back inside, the two of you moaning loudly at the feel of one another in such a deeply intimate way. he felt so much bigger like this, and the feeling of fullness for you and your heat for him were enough to drive you mad.

he watched as you began to bounce, body contorting at the feeling of pleasure running through you. this was the hottest sight he had ever seen, your hands pressed against his chest to stabilise yourself.

“fuck yourself on my cock, that’s it.” he cooed, hands grabbing onto your ass before landing a harsh spank, to which you mewled and rode faster. you had no idea to what extent you were driving him crazy.

he watched as you rose, hands now held behind yourself as you practically used him to get off. the sight was severed into his brain forever, with his fingers rubbing your clit to bring you closer to your high. “already so close, feels too good.” you moaned.

music to his ears, jungkook thought. you were getting tighter and tighter, no doubt nearing your second high but he couldn’t bring himself to lay back anymore. he grabbed your ass again, before bouncing you up and down himself, your moans getting expeditiously louder.

“jungkook!” you squealed, feeling his cock fuck you in a way no one had ever managed to. you were addicted, you had no idea how you were ever suppose to live again after this, after experiencing heaven.

“fuck baby, can feel you getting close hm? wanna cum with me, wanna cum on my cock?” he cooed at you, switching your positions again. you were now on your side, one leg on his shoulder whilst he hovered over you, pounding roughly whilst rubbing your clit.

you chanted yes over and over, his free hand holding your own as he could feel his own high approaching. with the final rub to your clit, your breath stitched as your orgasm rushed through every inch of you, shaking your body beneath him.

the sight alone was enough to bring him to his own high, giving you one last sloppy thrust before cumming, his fingers on your clit not letting up as he chased you through your high, your moans twisting into one another.

his fingers fell, alongside your leg on his shoulder leaving you both a shuddering mess. he immediately found home, his forehead touching yours whilst your breaths mingled, panting at one another.

you spent a few minutes just like that, getting your bearings before he slowly pulled out, groaning at the sight of his cum trailing out of you.

“you okay, did i go too hard?” he cooed at you, his hands reaching for your face as he planted sweet kisses over your cheeks.

“felt so good, kookie. felt perfect.” you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his neck immediately, pulling him down to properly meet you beside him.

he could hardly believe it. the love of his life, cuddling into him after a session of pure passion and lust. he was addicted to you; sure that no other drug would be as potent as you. completely ruined from the inside out.

you both stayed silent for a while, simply caressing and kissing each other. it felt so pure, so right that you felt ashamed knowing you hadn’t told him your feelings earlier. you had long forgotten everything that happened that night, your brain totally encompassed by the thought of him.

“i’m never going to live down the fact i should have confessed to you earlier.” he frowned at you. “we wasted so much time.”

to this, you giggled, holding him close. “we were idiots, but i guess this means we have to make up for it, right?”

jungkook grinned widely at your words, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your fingertips. “firstly,” he began, sitting up slightly so that you could look at him properly. “i love you, love you so much i can’t breathe when i look at you.”

you took him in, a bashful smile forming. “secondly, know i didn’t properly ask but this makes you my girlfriend, right?” he asked, smiling wider as he watched you nod excitedly with a squeak. “not for long though, i’ll put a pretty ring on that finger in no time.”

your mouth fell open at his words, eyes widening. “jungkook, you can’t say that!” you giggled, evidently very giddy at his words. say more, your heart screamed.

“please, i’ve learnt my lesson y/n. not wasting any more time.” he teased back, the two of you embracing and sharing a sweet kiss.

this was everything you both had wanted and more, spending the rest of the night talking, embracing and perhaps dabbling in other pleasurable activities. soon, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms. home, at last.

——

“you owe me like 50.” namjoon grinned widely at jimin.

the group had walked into jungkook’s apartment, each bringing breakfast assortments and flowers for you to make sure you were alright. they had been so worried last night that they’d gone straight home, each of them unsure of what to do but all understanding that the safest place for you to be was with jungkook.

when jin had seen yoongi and examined the redness of his knuckles, he couldn’t help but grin, knowing full well the boy had probably paid jaehyun a little visit sometime in the night. neither party said anything, but an understanding was shared. you were the youngest of the group, and of course, they were incredibly protective.

what they didn’t, expect, however was to see you cuddled up in jungkook’s arms, the two of you snoring away, evidently naked considering the duvet was hardly doing anything for modesty. upon sight of this, they all silently cheered, filtering out into the living room.

“no way, you ALL owe me 80, i said they’d fuck, you guys just said they’d confess.” yejin chimed in with a grumble, prodding a figure into the taller man’s chest.

hobi couldn’t help his giggles as he began unpacking breakfast. “whatever, can we all just be glad that this ordeal is finally over?”

taehyung nodded. “no more y/n pining.”

“no more jungkook whining.” jin added.

“no more will they, won’t they.” namjoon grinned, grabbing a seat at jungkook’s kitchen table.

“no more does she lo-“ yejin began, before shutting her mouth immediately. all eyes furrowed, including hers, straining their ears to hear the sudden noises forming in the bedroom as their heads snapped, looking over.

a moan filtered out into the air to which everyone groaned, realising what had instead replaced it. “pack it up, lovebirds.” jin shouted loudly. “breakfast on the table in 5, i expect you out and showered.”

[tsin-lockhart]

OP is right (for one thousand reasons but since writing / fiction / fandom came up let's go with that )

So much of building or defining a character goes into deciding how that character was raised. We see this across all media in the trend of the dead / disappeared mother so that women leads have an explanation as to why they are vulnerable in some way. We also see this in the countless ways people write their own characters' backstories and minds. At some point in character creation it is often (though not always) required to decide how they were mothered (patented, raised, experienced family, or just what their relationship or support from their mother was ) * In other words, understanding how the role and job of motherhood functioned is needed to inform most basic things about characters which makes it inherently interesting to analyze. That and the way the individual mother came to experience life, expresses personality, and has freedoms or depth will transactually inform the character.

We see this same relationship dynamic with the way real people address their traumas and realities. The last few decades have embraced an understanding of mental health without really addressing old fallacies and power imbalances (such as racism and sexism). Part of the perception issue people are having with addressing their own issues (meaning the clear imbalance in possible number of narcissist or similar examples) is that they literally do not have the context and perspective to understand things. Imo cut your hateful mom off either way but there is a difference between thinking that she abused you and is SIMPLY a narcissist for no reason ( narcissistic traits can develop from neglect) and understanding that in the generation she lived she was underpaid paid, over worked, and abused in a way that is no longer socially acceptable and was never going to have the skills or means to be successful at parenting. In other words, we don't hold as much grief over our missing father's because we accept there were large systemic factors and odds against them but we believe in most cases if the mother fails it means that she did not love her child enough , she is evil, she is selfish and she is those things and nothing else.

Understanding motherhood as it's own ecosystem of rules and expectations and knowing that most people online spend their time lamenting their inability to function or make goals should help connect the idea that sometimes women are just people who can fail and giving birth doesn't mean they inherently love and will understand their child. But there really is so little space to address this in media despite how often it is the direct source of conflict in real life.

What's crazy to mean is that this post opened from talking about an aspect of sexism to a way that is addressed in queer identity or writing in this case. But queer spaces allow sexism to be directed and celebrated against poor women all the time. I think the celebration of not wanting or needing or enjoying kids should never stop and is a long time coming but I also think pretending like access to education and the affects of poverty don't heavily impact the way a large majority of women end up connected to partners, and families (for life!) happens in their early 20s. I think that religion is not only murderous to gay people when the way monotheistic religions curate physical and behavior expectations to little girls before they can even spell their name. Sexism is pervasive , it's on top of everything all the time, and it gets boring to point out. But it always lays down a factor, which is why lesbains struggle to get representation in their own spaces because the queer space has some of the same sexist beliefs as straight spaces and some specific to queer spaces but the power imbalances are very weird. People will simply support or allow sexism and homophobia to happen to queer female people who happen to be mainstream and fail in some way, then it's allowed and good to say anything to them in the only spaces they are even allowed in. I'm not dumb or lacking nuance by the way that many queer people are abused by straight women and it sure as fuck isn't their job to wipe everyone's tears but engaging in behavior that punches down isn't a consequence free choice. I also want to clarify, cause you can never be too avoidant of terfs, that if the mpreg tag was also meant to include the way trans people enjoy character creation I don't intend to derail or diminish the joy of that. I'm just addressing OPs point that there's is a lot to talk about in this direction that is often hard to get properly analyzed. Hope that makes sense, trans people deserve everything they want in life and pretty flowers too.

* There is rarely a question that is purposefully intending to discover "what was this characters relationship like with their dad?" exclusively or as the first curiosity. This is because cis women (regardless of education, interests, or even understanding) can biologically become pregant and thus is socially, culturally, and physically (consenting or otherwise) the woman's responsibility to deal with the gestation, birth, and early survival of that life. (Gender expectations and proximity alone give child care to women, and therefore, women are often exposed to the complex needs of children and are often more empathic as a result. Imo this is wisdom that comes from living in gender centric world frames (always oppressive) and is also an example of an area where men's rights should be focused - paternity leave) This is to say, we do learn as much from a characters relationship with their dad as their mom (or we can) but people real and fictional often have to survive without their dads but cannot do so as easily without their moms.

tl;dr : Motherhood as a practice, and the endless ways people can come to that role is thousand time richer and dynamic that people can imagine.

Every time women make something and it's just for women people simply talk about it and title as worse, (women's literature is nothing but examples: cozy murders, romance, and even smut are not inherently lesser forms of writing and women who do write fantasy and action are often forced into young adult) and this extends to the spaces that women take up or that are put upon women.

honestly you all are so annoying because motherhood IS interesting but fandom people are simultaneously obsessed with deciding that every woman has motherly qualities and completely disinterested in actually exploring motherhood as a role that informs a character. I do think exploring a character being a mother can be wildly interesting if they are canonically one, but because of misogyny, people just view motherhood as a totally unremarkable naturalized state that all women must inhabit!

[ryusjwks]

Sometimes, I think of such sorrowful scenarios involving Caleb, MC, and non!MC that it truly aches inside. Non!MC holds a very special place in my heart — her finding a good ending, being happy, being seen and valued the way she deserves has always been incredibly important to me. With other love interests, seeing that happen brings a deep sense of satisfaction. But when it comes to Caleb… everything changes. It feels like non!MC could never have a truly happy life with him, as if it just isn’t written in her fate.

Caleb is different from the other characters. In the original timeline, he grows up with MC — they share their childhood, their pain, their fight for survival. His world, without him even realizing, begins to shape around her. There are promises he’s made — to never be with anyone else, to always protect her. He’s not obsessive, maybe, but he has a deeply ingrained sense of possession and protection. And over time, that becomes a habit. And that habit hardens into something like destiny.

Sometimes I picture this one scene in my head: MC, Caleb, and non!MC are children, used as test subjects in a lab. Then one day, Josephine appears and saves them. Everything changes. Time moves forward. Their lives settle into something resembling normalcy — maybe — but Caleb doesn’t change. He never leaves MC’s side. He’s like a shield, a shadow, always there for her. But to non!MC… he’s wary. There’s always a distance between them. As emotionally closed off as he is to Josephine, he remains to her as well.

No matter how much non!MC tries, no matter how much she suffers, she never sees the same softness in Caleb’s eyes. Never the same smile. Because his love for MC isn’t just habit — she is his center. Like when they were kids and he worked part-time so MC could have more toys. Like when he always played the knight who saved her in every make-believe game. Like how every ounce of tenderness he has is reserved only for MC.

Non!MC looks at Caleb the way Caleb looks at MC.

With the same patience, the same depth.

Every time he turns his head, her eyes never leave him, always holding a little more longing.

Not for a smile, maybe — but for a scrap of attention, a drop of affection.

And she never gets it.

Because Caleb is always turned toward someone else.

Non!MC loves him even when she’s not supposed to.

She understands him without even trying.

She’s learned to be content with just being near him.

Because while Caleb is the center of her world,

She is just a shadow living in the outskirts of his.

And perhaps the most painful thing of all is this:

Even though her love is never reflected,

Even though he doesn’t look at her the same way,

Still, she looks at him

Just like he looks at MC.

Quietly. Patiently. Desperately.

Non!MC sees all of this.

And sometimes the thing that hurts most isn’t being unloved — it’s being unconsidered.

It’s not even being compared, because in Caleb’s eyes, there’s no need for a comparison.

And that’s why writing a happy ending for non!MC in a story where Caleb exists becomes so difficult.

Because sometimes, healing begins with accepting the truth — no matter how bitter.

And some people are simply written to be side characters in someone else’s story.

And still… maybe one day.

(I need a fic like that please please please)

[stanart4clearskin]

frat!art x reader

art was never the kind of guy to turn down a bet, no matter how stupid it was. that's why when his fellow brothers approached him with a bet to get a girl to fall in love with him, he was eager to say yes. after all, it usually just took some compliments and a crooked smile to get a girl hooked.

—

art approached you, solo cup in hand and baseball cap on backwards to tame his unruly curls. he'd been watching you for the last seven minutes and it was obvious you wanted to be anywhere but this party. your eyes flitted back and fourth between the clock, your friends, and the front door. it seemed like you were trying to work up the courage to tell your friends you were leaving. why you had to work up the courage to talk to your friends was unknown to art.

"hi," he smiled, sticking out one of his hands for you to shake. "i'm art." you gave him a weary look but shook his hand anyway.

"art? as in like a painting?" you asked. he could tell you were curious about his namesake but were too polite to ask. after all, it wasn't everyday that you met someone whose name had a definition in the dictionary.

he laughed at your question. "yeah, like the painting." you nodded but still looked at him like he was a puzzle you wanted to solve. "my parents are artists," he supplied. "hence the name."

"ah," you said. "that's really cute actually. they named you after something that they really loved." art paused because well, he'd never really thought of it that way. maybe it was cute that his parents named him after something they loved because they loved him. "anyways, why me?"

his brows scrunched in confusion. "what do you mean why you?" art downed the rest of the vodka that was in his cup. he never got nervous talking to girls, but you were different. you didn't try to flirt with him or try to lure him into your bed. you talked to him like he was any other person and it was refreshing and slightly unnerving.

"why'd you come talk to me? you don't even know me." you clarified, instinctively licking your lips. art's gaze instantly went down to the beautifully pink pillows- he shook his head before looking back up at your eyes.

he shrugged and went to take a sip from his cup before realizing it was empty. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment when you took notice of the action and giggled at him. "i don't know. you looked like you've been itching to leave."

you smiled and god, art thought he might pass out. he'd met a lot of really beautiful girls at stanford, but none of them had a smile like you did. he was instantly drawn to the way your eyes crinkled and your entire face lit up. your smiled at him like you were truly happy. "that's quiet observant of you," you teased. "i have been wanting to leave, but I'm working up the courage to tell my group."

he cocked his head at you, like a confused puppy. "why do you have to work up the courage to talk to your friends? shouldn't you be friends with people you're comfortable with?"

you shook your head. "they're not my friends." you supplied. at art's blank stare you continued, "they're my roommate's friends. i met them today." art hummed in understanding and thought of a way to help you out. he wasn't sure why he cared so much about helping you leave but you were nice and he had nothing better to do.

without a word he snaked a hand around your waist and gently pulled you over towards your friends. you shot him a bewildered look, but he just smiled and kept walking towards them. "hello ladies," he greeted. "you all look very lovely tonight." he shot them his famous crooked grin and glanced at your for a second.

the girls all looked amongst each other, all as confused as you were. your roommate raised her eyebrow at you and all you could do was shrug and try to hold back a laugh. "as much as i think you are all wonderful," art continues. "i'm going to be taking this lovely lady back with me." he didn't give them anytime to respond as he ushered you towards the front door.

you laughed to yourself. "thanks, you didn't have to do that for me." you felt yourself blushing at the incredibility of it all. a hot stranger was helping you leave a party and walking you back to your dorm? you felt like the main character of some cheesy romance novel.

art smiled at you, arm still firmly around your waist. "it's no problem. i wanted to leave anyways. if anything, you were doing me a favor." the walk back to your dorm was spent with you laughing at the outrageous frat stories art told and him with wide eyes and a loose jaw while you told him how boring your life was. he dropped you off at your dorm with an exchanging of phone numbers and a kiss on the cheek before he was leaving and heading back to his dorm.

you leaned up against the door, phone clutched in your hand and a wide smile on your face. you did a some happy jumping and screaming before getting ready for bed. that night you and art stayed up texting until the sun was peeking through your blinds. for a moment you found yourself thinking that this might be your future boyfriend.

to be continued !

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle.

CLEARLY you all are desperate for an actual story on this blurb I quickly wrote up, so if this part 1 does well, I’ll make it into a series! I also can’t decide who I should ship reader with… Conner Kent maybe?? Let me know if that sounds good ♡

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this potential series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. reader is somewhat introverted and is describe loosely as attractive. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…)

TW: Abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Reader’s mom is dead, Pregnancy and rich people.

You weren’t a kid anymore. Part of you wonders if you ever got the chance to be one. Your mom died when you were pretty young, barely 6 at the time, you don’t remember much about her. She was pretty though, maybe that’s where you got your looks from?

You spent 4 years at an orphanage after her passing, until one day a car came and picked you up and took you to a big manor. Apparently Bruce Wayne was your father, but not just an adoptive one, your biological father. That was definitely shocking, You looked so much like your mother that you really couldn’t see the resemblance, maybe if you really focused you could see some aspects of the new father you suddenly gained.

You only met Bruce a handful of times, the first time was to greet you. He seemed particularly disinterested, you were only just a bit younger than Jason which he was currently focused on at the time. Bruce showed you to your room it was way bigger than your room in the orphanage then promptly disappeared, Alfred (who you came later to learn was the butler and NOT your new grandfather.) showed you around the rest of the Manor, claiming that Bruce had paperwork that needed more attention than his newly gained child, okay, he didn’t put it like that but that’s basically what he ment.

The Manor was big and rather empty, you wonder what the point of all this space was as a child. As you grew older you grew to understand and appreciate its big and emptiness, because then you couldn’t run into any of your other siblings. Whenever you meet them, it’s awkward, like you’re an outsider. Which you suppose you are, but it’s different because you later learn that all of your siblings were adopted, minus Damian but you only gained him as your sibling towards the end of your stay in the Manor. So why did they treat you like you were the odd when out, when they all should know perfectly how that feels since they were also outsiders at one point? To this day you have no clue.

You quickly grew adjusted to not being around your family. The first the phew years was difficult, you craved their attention like any normal child. You remember you used to cry at night as a kid wondering what you did wrong for them to barely even glance your way, to not even love you… but after the third birthday with the exact same gift you got on previous birthdays from Bruce, continually getting rejected by all your siblings on your offers to hang out and occasionally catching wholesome moments between your siblings and Bruce where they were chatting and laughing without you, You naturally gave up on trying.

You instead grew as a person without them, you made friends at school, developed your own personal fashion taste, you discovered your hobbies and your personality. You occasionally heard news about your family from Alfred (You never got used to only hearing news from him), like how Jason died, Tim was brought in, turns out Jason was alive and at some point Damian was also brought in. The timeline was messy. Honestly you didn’t think much about why Bruce adopted so many damn kids nor did you bother to concern yourself with their affairs.

Instead you discovered somethings more important. Number one is your huge allowance, you knew Bruce was a billionaire and filthy, disgustingly rich, but not to the point your allowance was in the MILLIONS. The second thing is nobody cares about you, to the point one time when you were around 17 you stayed at a friend’s house for two days without telling anyone, came back and apparently no one had any idea you even left when you asked Alfred.

Those two things got you to where you were now, a stunning and safe apartment with the most beautiful view in the whole of Gotham, a loving husband who would do practically anything for you, heavily pregnant in your 20s and currently surrounded by your shocked family.

You had a fight with your husband and you were livid at him deciding to spend some time at the Wayne Manor just to cool off (and to somewhat teach him a lesson), You honestly thought that nobody would care when you came waltzing back. Since nobody cared any other time.

However you were sorely mistaken. To the point you regret not just staying at a hotel or something. When you first walked through the door, Alfred greeted you. You were occasionally in contact with him, but you neglected to tell him about the pregnancy, let alone the fact you were married mainly because you knew he’d run and tell the entire family and you’d rather keep your life private from them. Which is probably why he stopped mid greeting to stare at your belly. It looked like he was buffering as he let you in and led you to the kitchen, you texted him on the ride there that you were a bit thirsty, so he prepared you some tea.

“My word, you’re really pregnant?” Alfred finally said once you sat down at one of the counters, which earned a chuckle from you as he slid your tea over to you.

“Last time I checked… which was in a mirror and when I felt the little gremlin kicking around in me on the drive here, I am.” You say with a smile before proceeding to chug your tea. “May I ask-” Alfred starts but before he can finish he’s interrupted by Damian, who entered the kitchen to grab some snacks at some point but instead noticed you.

“What on earth is that.” Damian hissed, he looked disturbed and disgusted as he pointed at your belly, like he just discovered a bug. Which ticked you off.

“An Alien, no use your head what does it look like?” You sarcastically reply. Normally Damian would’ve retorted however you quickly decide that you want to relax in the living room where you could continue your conversation with Alfred. As you and Alfred quickly leave, abandoning your empty tea cup, and finally settling in the living room. However you suddenly hear a STORM of footsteps from inside the house. You turn around and realize Damian followed you to the living room, phone in hand and clearly had texted the entire family about his new discovery.

“Fuck me…” you mutter softly, your peaceful days of being ignored were probably officially over. All thanks to your one dumb decision to come here. While you silently regretted your choices, almost the entire Wayne family had run into the living room, Tim was the first to run in shouting “WHO’S PREGNANT?”

You only really snap out of it when you notice the entire Wayne family staring at you, they got here faster than expected. Not all of them were here but most of them.

‘Maybe I really am carrying an Alien’ You ponder momentarily before you begin to speak, “Listen I’m only here momentarily because I had a small disagreement with my husband—” “HUSBAND?” Dick squeaks out his voice breaking in shock. “Yes— wait why are you all here anyways?” You say as it dawns on you how ridiculous this whole reaction was. Hell even BRUCE WAYNE, the supposed father you were under the care of, that you never saw for the majority of your life was even here.

“Well cause you know Bruce is always bringing home kids it’s the first time someone other than him is bringing home one, let alone an unborn one.” Cassandra pointed out, which you promptly agreed nodding your head. That explains it, to this damn family it must be pretty alien.

“Okay, well I’m pregnant. I get it shocking and stuff but there’s no need to—“ You say trying to calm down the situation when you are interrupted by Damian who’s pointing at your belly where your baby, as if sensing the crowd of spectators, decided to do its own acrobatic routine.

“Ew why is it moving….” Damian said, You’re starting to wonder why you even talk. “Don’t say ew. It’s just kicking, if you want you can touch my belly—” you regret those words instantly as around 20 hands immediately fly to touch your belly where the baby continues to kick. You’d almost find the whole situation adorable if it weren’t for the fact they were your family who previously didn’t give a flying fuck about you.

All of a sudden Bruce, noticing your uncomfort, clears his throat. When he does the 20 hands resend from touching your belly, “How far along are you?” He asks calmly but you can clearly hear his voice shake slightly. “7 months.” You reply calmly to which Damian opens his mouth again.

“Jesus when is it going to come out— wait how does it come out…” He still look horrified to which you suppressed a laugh. “Did no one teach you where babies come from?” You laugh and then pause when the room goes silent.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, no wonder he’s so disturbed. You hear Bruce quickly whisper to Selina “I thought you told him!” To which Selina fires back, “Me?! It’s your job!”

That’s your cue to leave before you have to witness a very uncomfortable conversation. “Okay, I’m going to go to my room, I’m tired.” To which everyone nods giving you space to leave.

Phew hours had gone by and you were relaxing in bed on your phone, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You call, assuming it was Alfred but instead the one who came waltzing in was Damian. He looked awkward and you definitely felt that as well.

“Hello.” He said as he walked over to you staring at you where you were lying down.

“Uh… Hi Damian… how can I help you?” You ask praying he just going to briefly insult you and walk away like he did in the past. Instead he looks curious.

“I have been educated on where kids come from. It is very disturbing.” You chuckle at his statement and at his face full of regret while putting your phone away.

“It’s not too bad, at least you learned from your parents and not your friends half way into high school.” You say smiling reaching out and patting his small shoulder at your own memory of your shocked friends as they held your hand in the bathroom and slowly explained it to the poor naive you.

“Yes that sounds way worse.” He admits as you laugh at his sentiment, to which he scowls a bit before snapping out of it. “Anyways, like I said, I have been educated and although it’s very disturbing I commend your bravery for creating life.”

Damn it, he made it awkward again. You resend your hand awkwardly and place it back on your chest, Damian continues speaking though. “I also did some research and apparently the fetus can hear around the 5th month, and since you said it’s in the 7 month stage it can hear. Which means it heard me insulting it.”

You nod at his words, encouraging him to get whatever he’s planning on doing over with already. When he sees your nod, he removes his hands from behind his back, he’s holding a book.

“So to replace my negative words I have brought an educational book, normally I know perhaps the other parent my read so the baby gets used to both your voices, however since your a single parent—“

you give him an incredulous look “no… I have a husband.” To which he stares at you like your pants are on fire, that’s how much of a liar he thinks you are.

“Yes… right.. well since this supposed husband isn’t here to read to your child I shall.” He plops himself beside you, not accepting any protests from you about how you really do have a husband, he begins to read, you give in closing your eyes, clearly you’re going to be here awhile. “Law 1. Always make those above you feel comfortably superior…” you scrunch your face at his words as he reads. Half way into chapter one your eyes fly open and realize that he’s actually reading.

“Are you reading 48 laws of power right now?” You say staring at the book he’s holding as you prop yourself up on your elbows. He gives you a look like you just said the sky was blue.

“Yes of course? It needs to come out smart. Now please lie back down.” He says pushing you to lie back down. You give in once again, you’re too tired to protest against Damian anyways…

At some point both you and Damian passed out, the book could only hold both your interests long enough and the warmth of your room was just perfect for a nap. You stare down at the still sleeping Damian, whose head is currently resting on your belly, contemplatively. In someways you were jealous he fit in perfectly with the Wayne family and was actually treated like their sibling and child. However on the other hand you were honestly glad you were not loved like he was, because if you were you would’ve never met your husband (that you are now starting to miss…) and you also would’ve never been given the opportunity to create your own family, one that will love you truly.

You didn’t like the fact that Damian used to insult you occasionally in the past, but it’s not like you held it against him and you also don’t regret making fun of him back. Although he was a brat at times, he was still a child. A child in a huge messy family that just happened to be your little brother. Perhaps that was the gnawing feeling in your heart. The knowledge such a small kid like him will probably struggle in someways you used to is weighing heavy on you. He was earnest, and clearly tried his best from the fact alone he came to your room to read a book that he knew would help the baby… even if that book was the laws of power and was incredibly boring (in your opinion.)

He was just like you when you were smaller. That thought made you gently reach down and stroke his head. “I hope you’ll only make smart choices, but even if you don’t I’ll still love you, my dear. Just remember, don’t hold onto people who will never hold you gently and lovingly. After all, You are the most precious thing to me and you will be precious to so many others. You are worth your weight in gold.” You whisper to the sleeping boy, the same words your mother said at her passing. You feel yourself getting chocked up, after all this day was full of emotions for you. And you aren’t quite ready to face those emotions so you close your eyes.

After saying all those words and remembering the things you’d almost rather forget you find yourself pulled back into sleep. This time though, Damian had a small smile etched on his face as he slept..

[luulapants]

why are americans not doing anything about doge. or ice for that matter. from an outsider's point of view, you are all just complying with everything.

ive heard that doge are setting up illegal email servers in some government buildings. why is nobody like. breaking them? the federal data center for ice is in vermont. why is nobody like. setting it on fire? i mean you americans love to talk about your guns so much and how they are for fighting tyranny. and yet... nothing?

you all seem way too complacent and okay with this. in the reblogs of your doge post there are so many people saying things like "there must be SOMEONE who can stop this." you have to do stuff yourself. nobody is going to save you.

Most Americans don't even understand why they're not resisting (hence the "SOMEONE needs to act!"), which is that we're already a fascist police state. Our regular police are militarized and willing to kill or disappear citizens. 0.6% of our population was incarcerated before Trump ever took office. Resistance leaders end up mysteriously dead or disappeared - it's been that way for decades. I think most Americans have a sense, consciously or not, that anything more than symbolic protest is a potentially fatal act.

It's notable that "Somebody should do something!" usually imagines an individual act. A lone gunman. Self-immolation. A suicide bomber. These are our model of "taking action." Most Americans are so detached from any sense of community, especially where politics is concerned. I was taught as a kid that talking about politics is rude. If people had better access to solidarity networks, if they were able and willing to talk openly with their neighbors and colleagues, we wouldn't have that same sense that resistance = certain death.

Meanwhile, another segment treats this like politics as usual. I see one Reddit post talking about the potential for American concentration camps, and the next post down reports that Donald Trump's polling numbers are down. It's surreal. The average citizen can't quite feel the difference in their daily life. Not quite. It still feels like something that's happening on TV, so they can pretend for now. People don't want to die for the cause because they're in denial that we're past the point of no return and they're in denial because they don't want to die.

I have no idea what our country will look like in three months. I couldn't have predicted the current state three months ago. I hope, as things get worse, people seek community and solidarity and work together toward resistance. I suspect, however, that the first resistance will come from individuals whose circumstances became extreme enough to die over. I also suspect those individuals will rarely, if ever, be able to take action anywhere near meaningful power.

Why aren't people shutting down the servers in government buildings? I can't speak to every building, but in GSA, there are alarms on the doors and guards with guns between regular workers and all things DOGE. I can't speak to every agency, but the IRS had armed DHS agents walk a bunch of fired accountants out "for security purposes." We're not the most militarized country in the world for nothing.

One bit of bleak hope: they're breaking their own systems. The US government has crazy security protocols to prevent things like, say, burning down a data enter. They're firing the people that wrote those protocols. I can't imagine they'll replace them with anything near as comprehensive or effective. I think burning down a federal data center would be near impossible for a citizen today. I have no idea what the country will look like in a month.

[moralisist]

jjk men and how they deal with the aftermath of an argument

— NANAMI KENTO

nanami hated when you guys would fight. he believed you guys could always talk it out, and that every problem could be solved with communication. this time, yall just couldnt get it right.

you and nanami got into it because of the many times you’ve told him that his overtime doesnt leave much time for him to be a boyfriend. he always promises he would fix it but instead of being honest, it’s the same thing everyday. he comes home at 2 am, leaves at 8 am and the cycle repeats.

nanami told you he has responsibilities that he’s had since before he met you and he can’t drop them. he says he understands where you’re coming from but you can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t understand why you’re tripping so hard about this.

normally, he can admit his faults and you guys can kiss and make-up but he just couldn’t budge this time.

it was the day after the argument and nanami tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up. he was at work and he wanted to see if maybe he should pick up some food to lessen tensions between the two of you.

my kento; 6:21

Would you like chinese for dinner?

y/n; 6:30

nah, made dinner.

my kento; 6:31

Oh, okay. What’d you make?

you didn’t respond after that. nanami decided to leave work early today and go to the flower shop before it closes.

he comes home and he’s not greeted by your usual self who comes and gives him a kiss while taking his jacket off while telling him the next crazy thing that happened during your day. he goes to your bedroom and sees you lying there, scrolling on your phone, not once looking up at him.

he walks to your side of the bed and sits, although he hates outside clothes on the bed. “i’m sorry darling. i hate when we fight. i see where you’re coming from and ill make more of an effort to come home at a regular time. i’ll talk to the higher ups.” you finally look at him and sit up.

“you can’t keep making promises to me kento. i need you to take iniative like you do with everything else. i don’t want to ask you for much but i need you here sometimes ken.” you cup his cheek.

“i promise my love, i dont want to be the man to ever disappoint you.” he smiles while leaning into your hand and kissing the palm.

you wrap your arms around him and hug him tight. “the flowers are beautiful.”

“yeah? now give me a kiss.”

— TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji was a stubborn, stubborn man. you couldn’t tell that man anything if he truly believed he was right in an argument. but when you think he’s wrong and he’s hell bent on being right? oh baby. it’s hell.

you needed toji to pick up some responsibilities. you felt like he wasn’t doing enough for the house and hated that sometimes he’d prioritize things like fixing his car, working out for hours when he left a mess behind or training outside when he hasn’t put the drinks he bought back into the fridge.

it drove you nuts. you didn’t like feeling like a pestering person but you voiced your concerns while being annoyed about it all. toji didn’t take it very well and saw you as “ungrateful” and that you didn’t really “notice his efforts”. words were thrown and you both ended up in a screaming match.

you decide to give him space throughout the whole day and visit a friend and leave him to tend to his thoughts and his messes.

once toji realized you really haven’t texted or called him all day, his egos hurt. but his pride is what keeps him from calling. he doesn’t care, you’ll be back. right?

you werent tripping and you were having a great time with your friend. you had a self care day with them and talked about how you felt about this toji situation and your friend spoke their mind as well. it was great for you and it led you to be ready to go home and speak to toji.

you open the door to the kitchen nice and neat, similar to the way you clean it. the living room is put together as well, a bit unusual for toji. you see toji sitting, manspread on the couch like your body was meant to mesh there.

he’s staring at you with those love sick eyes he’s had since he met you, the “im crazy in love with you” eyes. “c’mere doll, sit.” he’s tapping his lap and you immediately go to sit in between his legs. “i’m sorry. i know you do a lot to keep this house together and i’ll uh- ill appreciate it more. i’ll pick up my slack, promise. forgive me?” he says the last part gruffly, almost like it hurts.

toji hateddd to apologize but to you? he’d do anything to see that look on your face that showed he was the man you took pride in. he’d apologize and change as much as he needed to to see that look.

“you’re forgiven but toji, i’m gonna need to see some action to go with that.” toji gives you a kiss, a tough one but with a hint of desperation. “i promise baby, i won’t disappoint.” he picks u up bridal style and takes you to the bedroom. “now lemme show you i’m really sorry.”

— GOJO SATORU

gojo was a person who hid things behind laughter and jokes. he didn’t like talking about the real stuff because the real stuff would have to make him vulnerable and who needs that?

gojo hated being vulnerable and open more than anything. he’s supposed to be the strongest, he isn’t meant to cry to you about things that happen during his day to day or the pressure of being the best has on him.

but you desperately wanted him to. you felt there was a bridge between the two of you where you communicated your needs and how you felt while gojo only gave you surface level things to go off of. the best you’ll get out of gojo is that he doesn’t like when you forget to make him breakfast if you make one for yourself or the fact your products would be all over the bathroom. the emotional wavelengths weren’t there.

you and gojo were fighting about small things like the fact he leaves the toilet seat up but you were revving up the argument so you could get something out of gojo other than just his nonchalant silly behavior.

“babe can you relax? i’ll remember to put the seat down, geez.” he begins to walks away.

“stop walking away from me satoru! that’s all you do, you don’t tell me anything, we have stupid arguments like these instead of meaningful ones! i tell you everything that happens with me. what makes me mad, sad, or happy. you don’t ever tell me about your day or your deepest desires. i want to know you on more than a surface level. you don’t let me in and we’ve been together for more than a year and i still don’t know you other than “the strongest” persona you put up. i’m supposed to be your person, treat me like it.”

gojo stands at the doorway, looking at you and doesn’t know what to say. he hugs you and guides you to the bed, so you both can lay down. gojo begins to let everything flow, as gut wrenching as his life is. he doesn’t shed a tear, as if he’s telling a story. a story that wasn’t about him. you sat and listened intently while he told you, and you played with his hair giving him some type of comfort as he shares.

it was a long conversation and you didn’t say anything because you know gojo wouldn’t want your pity or your emotions at the moment. “thank you for telling me baby. i appreciate the effort you made and it must’ve been hard for you to tell me. i’m sorry i tried to push you so hard but i want to be able to understand and grow with the man i have in front of me, you know?” you sigh, feeling a bit silly.

gojo looks up at you with his bright, blue eyes. “i’ll open up more baby, i swear. i don’t want to keep you at a distance like the way you’ve been feeling.”

he gives you a kiss on the lips, very tenderly. “now can we get something to eat? all that trauma dumping has me hungry as shit. come on, let’s get sum down the street.”

[animeshotsh]

General White Rabbit x Fem!Reader HCS

Warnings: HCS - Protective - Full!Demon Rabbit - NSFW + SFW - Maybe OOC - I need him -

SFW:

You two met when he was just starting to bring Malakians to the human realm and just happened to ran into you.

He avoids killing when he can. Still gets worried you will rant him out so he most likely ends knocking you out till he decides what to do with you.

You end being on a trial time. Like he is teasting you. You will probably be scared of him at first. Since you are filled with Demon propaganda.

Then you start to see that not all demons are bad just like all humans are not good. Its not black and white but grey.

You end helping them adapt to the human world and usually go to get them food, medicine and whatever they may need.

End suggesting being in the countryside may be better than staying in the city, plus more fresh air!!

The romance between you two would be slow. First a friendship that evolves in romantic feelings.

White Rabbit probably falls hard when he sees you helping the other Malakians and how honest you are. Even more when he sees the process of you being scared of them because of the human propaganda to understand them.

He really aprecciates the open heart you give him and to the rest. And all the help you have done around.

If Darkcom even comes near you they are as good as dead. The White Rabbit its possessive and obssesive. Protective over his peopel , he would make sure they are safe before going to battle.

And If you ever get taken by Darkcom or a fellow Demon.

Its a blood battle. One that its going to end being win by him.

He ends being so sorry for putting you at risk.

He has seen how humans courts their S/Os and tries to replicate it as much as he can. He probably has been courting you in Demon ways but you never noticed it.

So he beings you flowers and asks you to drink some tea with him with your favorite sweets too! Will try to even have some music too. Hopeless romantic.

Probably kisses you on impulse. Maybe you are teaching some young Malakians some human thing and he cant help but just feel it. So once you end the lesson he does to you, his intention was to tell you how much help you have gave but ends kissing you.

Or you two are escaping from Darkcom and after making it he kisses you because he was afraid he would lose you.

So, Demon courting. Back in Hell he would have to fight others to show that he is strong. But he basically protects you and the rest 24/7 so he will try with his intelligence. Ends showing you some very complicated projects of him, and while they are good and amazing and all. You wont get the hint. Not even when the poor Rabbit has to help himself from jumping when you tell him how suprised you are with these.

Probably would try to get you valuable things....from hell standars. So while most Malakians are shipping you two hard after seeing him giving you some special rock from their home place...well you see it as a friend's gift.

Poor Rabbit will probably wonder what he is doing wrong.

NSFW

STAMINA. He is a Demon and a Rabbit no less. He can go for so many rounds.

Biting. Loves to leave his mark on you. Its a thing about being possessive but also romantic. Bite him back please he will love it.

Over sensitive. He feels more since his senses are sharper and that includes his nerves. When your bodies are connected he feels so much more than average. Every pulse from your core, every breath you take and sound you make.

RUT. Maybe he goes into it because he finally has someone in his life. He is over you during it. Probably has a private room for it too. With his smell and toys too.

His after care its 10/10 since he knows he can be quiet demanding during sex. Water, food, words of ressurance....all of it just for you.

A secret kink of his is getting you pregnant even if he does everytning to prevent it.

Doggy style its his favorite position since it awakes his more primal side. He is able to reach deeper and mark you better. If you are tired dont worry, he has enough streght to hold you and keep going.

Is able to smell your arousment so never think of hiding it. He probably gets pussy drunk too.

First time he smell it he was confused because it was coming from you and was having an effect on him...

[sgiandubh]

Games people play

An ephemeral (and now quickly deactivated) account went rogue and sent a prominent shipper blog a whole load of conversations between that person, who played friendly to the Other Side, and Caitony. You know, the staunch stalwart of the Remarkable Week-end Saga, who consistently insulted shippers in the most revolting fashion one can imagine. 'Crazy' and 'stupid' being almost terms of endearment, of course.

I shall not repost the six conversations that have been meticulously screen capped and posted. You can read them here, starting with this post, where the Rogue Operator explains her choice of releasing them: https://www.tumblr.com/auburncurlslass/781073024919207936/hello-shipper-this-message-is-not-about-me-sam?source=share

But a couple of lines from that scrambled dialogue of sorts gave me pause, and I have thoughts and questions, as always.

'Beijos em tenda'/'Kisses in the tent'. I know what I saw, that night, while dissecting that Taylor Swift concert episode frame by frame. Many shippers were doubtful, perhaps because almost twelve years of brutality made many wary of the consequences of being too open or too readily accepting. A culture of paranoia and permanent second-guessing was the necessarily logical consequence of collective bullying. Now one of the most revolting people on the other side confesses she saw exactly the same thing and that it annoyed the shit out of her. Understandable: Those Two Kissed. Not on the cheek.

So, here you have it: Caitony knows that very well. Is she the only one? Doubtful: many, if not all of them, know the same thing, for you can be sure conversations happened in those DM boxes, too,

Shipper Mom just confirmed: in the above context, a 'beijo' is virtually never on the cheek. Otherwise, it would have been an 'abraço' - just a hug, so to speak, which wouldn't have scandalized Caitony. Yet, this one seems to have traumatized her so much, that she felt the urge to remind her 'friend', in a different conversation, one of the arguments used by Mordor to explain C's questionable behavior, including (but not only) that night. Albeit, on a more ominous tone:

C is, according to Caitony, 'doida'/crazy and 'bebe muito'/drinks a lot'. Yes, this is in the context Caitony finally spills the tea about her very seriously shipping C and Tobias Menzies, which is amusing, to say the least. Later on, she even speculates on Blonde Bambino being Tobias' son: ugh, nobody seems to like McGill, or what?

I have always known the entire Greek Chorus of sopranos, minions and clones were always spinning the same two arguments in a gradual miscellanea of insults and fighting words because what I post often made them feel uneasy (a #silly understatement). But now, here is evidence:

You know, they love and respect her so much, that they are readily throwing her under the bus the very moment she does not conform to their scenario. It's 'exclusivamente culpa dela'/'exclusively her fault', because you are just a sad and lonely woman, who has a parasocial relationship with a perfect, lionized stranger. And wow, how hard must reality sometimes bite, to make you veer dangerously close to our shores: 'tem horas que acho Tony um verdadeiro fantoche'/'at times, I think Tony is a real puppet'. You don't say, darling...

Of course, S is (according to Caitony) a gay man whose partner is Norouzi, which doesn't really come as a surprise, since this is what the Screeching Banshees have been insinuating for years, now. I have debunked enough of it, even showing how they tinkered with Wikipedia, to insist on this nonsense.

What is really interesting, though, is this very recent convo with Caitony, where she touches a very sensitive issue, all the while telling her 'friend' she was disillusioned and quitting this toxic madness:

Fucking fun, too, to read her defining C's marriage as a 'farca necessaria'/a necessary sham (but is this the same woman seeing McGill in Dublin, recently? Oh...) and openly mentioning 'divorcio'/divorce. Not once, but at least twice:

She even expects it to happen (really?), but thinks it's not the case, yet. How peculiar, really!

And, perhaps the most telling of everything, here is what she really, honestly wants for C's new movie, just because she thinks C needs the money and this is why she lies to her true fans:

'Quero que ela flope esse filme'/I want her film to be a flop'.

Not a fucking ounce of fucking shame. A cara nem treme.

I am not sorry for the length. Credits given accordingly, with the amendment the informer deactivated her blog, supposedly because she was afraid of Caitony going after her. I can also tell you that this informer followed my page for an hour, before changing her mind and choosing to post elsewhere. I am glad she did spill the tea.

'No boundaries. No respect. No class.'

In the meanwhile, we are preparing our trip to Paris, where we will make sure to tell C how good she is at what she does. I am not going for her. I am going because I want to hug and talk to all the people who will join our merry company. Because this is what a fandom is for: a facilitator for like-minded people to meet and become friends, not a cesspool of madness. I'll give Caitony that involuntary honesty.

[fmaandbgud]

😧i don't remember this in the anime 😨

[coffeepaintwater]

shen yuan, luo binghe and shen jiu the most explosive trio to ever trio i fear (there are two duos in these trio and hint hint both of them feature sy lol)

also this is basically fanart for Shen Yuan of No Relation on ao3 by Gemi bc i'm binge reading/listening to it and it's so good!!! the characterisation is so on point it dragged me back into the svsss fandom by my hair. the character study tag 100% deserves its' place there.

notes, bc how could there not be??:

i saw a post that said that any svsss fanwork's inaccuracy to history can be attributed to airplane's lazy pidw world-building and. yeah. basically.

i was thinking what would the disciple robes look like to both seem regal to the commoners (as described in 99% xianxia novels) and good to train in and i realized that there shouldn't probably be more than two layers anyways because it isn't even really accurate. also, i like the interpretation that each disciple has a subtly different uniform, but i just can't picture how that would work???? 100% the rich kids and older disciples who can actually earn some money would add accesories to their robes, but for shen yuan and luo binghe, i just couldn't imagine where they'd get anything like that, besides the hair pins ning yingying made/gave them (sry if i mix some shit up, i've read 20 chapters in 2 days okey have mercy). plus, with a world that focuses on social standing as much as pidw/svsss does, i think that the sects would naturally aim to recreate that hierarchy in their own society.

with the example of cang qiong mountain, yue qingyuan would have the highest rank, and (as syonr showed!!!) probably boast the biggest estate on the peak, inheriting all the wealth the previous sect leaders had accumulated. and while from what i understand, being a sect-affilated cultivator means your payment is basically getting fed, clothed and having a roof over your head in the sect instead of idk, coin, yue qingyuan would still have monetary means because of, surprise surprise, inheriting it. so, clothes just on the better side from the other peak lords perhaps

next in the food chain would be the other peak lords, except that we see that even the peaks have different 'rankings'. so, while on the outside each peak lord carries the same authority, shen jiu would have been able to be as he was in canon (MASSIVE side eye btw) and no one would have been really in a place to kick him in the gut and say he was a fucking asshole, for example, besides yue qingyuan. that is, from a purely theoretical stand-point, bc all hierarchical order is sometimes broken but that's besides the pointttt. the point is, they would have freedom to dress however they wish and while i believe the disciple robes remain unchanged since the founding of the sect (bc svsss universe is implied to be a largely unadvancing society, regarding anything besides cultivation), the peak lords most likely don't have one set uniform, besides each peak being color-coded apparently??

there was a post i was inspired by (https://www.tumblr.com/svsssfanonarchive/736782613008809984?source=share) that confirmed that the peaks (or at least three of them, but we don't get much of the others anyways) do in fact have the disciples wear robes of one color. qing jing favors greens and teals (see the post for more details pls pls pls it's so good) BUT i love adding white to my art bc i feel like a fabric this vibrant and light would fit the scholars there. also, white seems like the furthest one could get from the gutter to me, bc while it is the color of mourning, it's also the color of purity and shen jiu would take the chance to put one more barrier between shen qinqiu the peak lord and shen jiu the slave. don't ask why i put shen yuan in better robes; there's no reason other to make him more like a mini shen qinqiu lol

the head disciples could probably get modified uniforms or a layer more, to make them really stand out. and i'm not touching on the hall masters and senior disciples bc NOPE. not my problem for now

last thing, fu yue my love, my beauty, my life force, WHICH CHARACTER ARE WE TALKING ABOUT FOR FU?????? i decided on these ones bc there were the closest i could get to the meaning Gemi intended but :(( i have a gut feeling the first character is wronggg

[pinkaditty]

Love Type (Tokyo Debunker Ghouls)

hey me again i said id be back quickly and i did mean that.

this will have been queued for an hour at least by the time u see it. rn as i type this im debating using the taglist. i think ill use it. sorry 4 so many tags in a day, i bet ur sick of me

anyways! i had this idea while i was writing the perv!sho x reader thing. i thought about the differences between the ghouls and how they all love differently. at first i wasn't gonna post this, but then my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it so now this exists. its not meant 2 be a useful organization tool 4 the ghouls it's just something i had a little bit of fun with.

note that not every single ghoul is going 2 match the category he was put in exactly. for example, ghouls like luca, yuri, romeo, and even haru could probably fit in more than one of these categories, but i put them in the ones i thought suited them best. wanna discuss? leave a comment or an ask! ill be happy 2 talk it through with u <3.

yes i DID put in hcs about how long they last sexually. no i do NOT regret it. im speaking my TRUTH!!!

The Lover Boys:

Haku, Haru, Sho, Luca, Zenji, Rui

do not last long but recover fast and can go multiple rounds 

prefer switching up their roles (dom→sub, sub→dom) more often 

they love like it's an incurable chronic terminal disease. it's never leaving them.

all-consuming, takes up most their time, they're drowning and falling and losing their minds 4 u

You like to tell yourself you're prepared, but is that ever really true? No, not really. The way his voice drops several octaves into a low purr just from seeing you should've been warning enough as to what you were in for. You didn't expect the all-consuming, suffocating love he'd trapped you in, but were you really complaining? As far as you were concerned, you were also convinced it was meant to be, and if he was a little crazy about it, that was a small price to pay. Of course, you eventually learn why he's crazy about it - he's never had it. The truest feeling of connection, the ability to just let it all go in one person's presence, the time to really feel another person. It's eluded him for so long, and now he has it, but it's threatened by a curse, something he cannot control. It's frightening, and though he tried not to, he ultimately buries you in his love, trying to find a way to make it last. It's okay though. As the threat wanes, so will his suffocation. The love will always be intense, but he will learn how to do it right. 

The Lost Boys:

Towa, Taiga, Jiro, Ed

they last so unbelievably long u don't know how they do it

love in more subtle ways bc 2 them, true love is quiet 

they will do loud and bold professions of it, but the real love is displayed quietly 

prefer 2 stick 2 one role (either dom or sub), not super flexible 

The occasional huge flower bouquet, expensive jewelry set, or new bag were thoughtful, but mostly just for show. He reveled in the attention, the jealous stares, the sucking of teeth, the eye rolls - all of it. Because he had you, not them. But that, of course, isn't all there is to it. While he may be relatively distant in public despite the extravagant gifts, he's rather sweet and attentive in private. He hides it better than a LoverBoy, but in truth, his heart bleeds just like theirs, and he feels the need to consistently strive to win your affections. You're amongst great people, after all. How can he make sure he stands out, all the time, just for you? You understand this, of course, and you're always quick to reassure him. He will give and give and give and give, in so many ways. You almost think he's bottomless, what with how much of himself he offers up, nearly all the time. But it's alright. He will learn to remind himself that he need not give himself away to bits simply to keep your attention, especially when he's already the apple of your eye. The gifts never stop though, and neither does his obvious enjoyment in the attention it gets you. He will never stop showing you off.

The Tragic Boys:

Leo, Subaru, Ren, Kaito, Yuri

love fluctuates. intense then quiet, hot then cold, all-consuming then insignificant 

very transparent ghouls with few layers. what u see is what u get.

often don't last long and take longer to recover 

a little more flexible with role changing, but do have solid preferences 

You are never, ever prepared. He's like a pendulum, swaying back and forth between endless, bountiful devotion and a cold shoulder the following day. He's not sure how to handle this love he has for you. It's unfamiliar, it's big, it's loud, it's petrifying. He's scared he'll do something wrong, and on those days when the fear eats him alive, he closes up, rejecting your presence. But then, he sees how down you are, and knows that wasn't right, so the following day he's at your beck and call. He'll do whatever you ask, just say the word and it's done, for you. His fatal flaw is that he never communicates his deep-seated fears, instead choosing to let them rumble in his gut and disrupt your relationship as a consequence. He wants you, though, and he never wants you to doubt that. He'll communicate eventually, the words spilling out before he can think much of them, apologies and desperate sobs with them. He won't shut down anymore after this, choosing to remain like an open book for you to read at any time. He will learn to hold you the right way, without clamming up nervously when you tell him he's perfect. 

The Silent Boys: 

Tohma, Romeo, Ritsu, Lyca, Alan, Jin

their love is consistent 

never changes, always with immense depth, but never readily apparent 

love is like a pretty serene waterfall with unseen strong currents capable of killing someone 

like to switch it up every now and again (mayyybe dom→sub, sub→dom yk)

last moderately. some might finish fast, some might take a while.

His attitude and demeanor towards you hardly change. He loves you, and he's serious about it, but that won't mean special treatment, extra gifts, or public displays of love. He will love you exactly as he always has, and sees nothing wrong with it. His love is in how he looks out for you, how he worries for you despite himself, how he may allow himself a small smile when you approach, or a sigh heavy laden with devotion, after you wrap your arms around him, and before he pushes you off of him. It's okay because you know how his heart beats erratically in his chest when you approach, which he's strangely good at hiding. You know how his breath hitches in his throat every time he sees you, his eyes glazing over like you're a vision to be committed to memory. You know how he treasures you, his love hidden under his vast sea of responsibilities. Peel the layers back and you'll see he's yours in all ways that matter, but he also knows he can't let that get in the way of his daily life. Once he has the time, and is no longer bearing the weight of prying eyes and overwhelming expectations, he'll build his life around you, to make sure you feel centered in his life, as he does in yours.

well if nobody really likes these at least i had fun. amen!

no blurb 2 put here except that i have a ren fic incoming soon bc my regular [🐟] anon went crazy in my inbox about that boy and his damn collarbones.

y'all have a wonderful day im so tired.

taglist: @cupcakesmoothie @aayakashii @sunskosh @despairingy-obsessed @glamorousspoon @mmy-meow @dailyvahine @diluxama @obscuarysghoulnextdoor @disassociationdive

want 2 join or be removed from the tkdb taglist? let me know!

[sugurusladyknightt]

i'm thinking of introducing sukuna to the culture of binge watching and comfort films/television. i think he'd frankly be so confused by it, a little put off too. the idea simply not appealing to him. after all, this is a centuries old curse we're talking about. but oh the old curse loves you. he cares for you, and that means he also cares for the things you care for.

you'll explain to him that it's like when you enjoy a book so much you'll spend the night trying to read as much of it as possible instead of sleeping. he wants to reply that it wouldn't be truly enjoyable because you aren't taking the time to fully understand and digest the contents of the book ignoring how tired you would be (not him you stay safe out there), but he doesn't. choosing to curtly nod along to your words instead.

that's how he got here, sitting together on the couch, your smaller form resting between his strong thighs. the blankets are thrown aside, there is no use for them. his warm body against your back and four arms wrapped around you are enough to keep the nights coolness of the air at bay. there's an array of snacks on the table (your favourites and a few of the ones you know he loves but would never admit) and your favourite franchise playing on the tv.

the development of his interest starts slow, as critique. hardly there at all really but it builds. slowly gaining more and more interest in the plot (or lack there of), more invested in the lives of the characters and their choices, he's even beginning to mentally pick his favourites. watching through the series you've raved about so passionately and he starts to get it. not that he doubts you have good taste, i mean .. look at him, this really only acts as reinforcement to that belief.

now sukuna is picking up the remote and trying to click for the next part. cradling you in a pair of his arms as the other holds the remote and brings the snacks you've set up to his mouth (the one his face since you're laying there). it goes on, he hardly feels the time pass. your little giggles at his annoyed comments, you're recitation of parts from the dialogue from memory, and 'shhh shh, this is a really good part', defending your favourite characters as he does the same for his own. until he feels your breaths slow, and your voice getting heavier, chest rising and falling in calm against him. you've fallen asleep, the episodes over, and sukuna doesn't know how to work the remote to find the next one.

(he could figure it out is he tried just a little, it's really not all that difficult. but no, he's just gonna sit there like a fat old grumpy cat until you wake up and do it for him. because why would he bother if he can have a pretty thing like you take care of him instead)

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck Together - Part 7

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

A/N: Final part is here. Thank you to everyone reading :)

Quiet.

Something you love. Or used to, anyway.

It’s stupid, how fast you got used to the little things. The sounds in the kitchen as Wanda made coffee. The hurried steps of fhe boys, eager to join Riley in a morning walk.

Now you’re back to being alone, feeding the animals, looking out the window while the radio plays some generic music.

Everything’s so bland and boring and you hate it.

Then, one morning, you hear a car parking in the driveway.

“Sestra!” a voice with a heavy accent calls, and your shoulders drop. You realise a moment later that you were holding your breath.

Fanny barks, eager to say hello to Riley. You open the door, your dog sprinting out to greet Yelena and her pup.

There’s a brunette trailing right behind the Russian, looking around nervously.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, you left the hospital against medical advice. What was I supposed to do?”

“Hu-huh” you cross your arms, looking at the stranger. She hesitates, taking a step forward to introduce herself.

“Kate Bishop”

“Clint’s minion” you recognise the name. He told you all about their little stint in New York. You turn to Yelena, raising your arms. “I’m fine, all healed. You can chill”

“Well, we came all the way here, could we at least stay the night?”

In that moment, Riley sits at your feet, barking excitedly. You glare at the blonde.

“Only because Riley agreed”

“Good girl” she says, scratching behind her ears. With a roll of your eyes, you turn back home, Yelena and Kate close behind you.

As you prepare coffee and the two girls make sandwiches, you think of all the things Natasha told you about Yelena.

She was my little sister.

And you knew, that if anyone could understand your grief was her, out of all the people in the world.

But that didn’t mean you wanted to spend time together. It was a constant push and pull. Talking about Natasha and avoiding the topic altogether were both equally painful.

After a while, you show them the guest room. Yelena doesn’t flinch at the sight of one bed, and even when you mention the other rooms available (or even the couch), they both walk in.

As Yelena walks by you, you arch an eyebrow, and she gives you a stern look.

“Shut it”

Figuring it’s better to give them some privacy to settle, you take a stroll around the farm, Lou happily following along while Fanny and Riley chase each other.

Your mind is a mess, and you don’t know which way to turn to hurt less. As usual, there’s a weight in your chest when you think about Natasha, and how much you miss her. But now, Wanda’s abscence is also there, the wound very much fresh and open, as only a few days ago she was in your arms, promising to stay.

For the first time in years, you miss going on missions.

“Had a good walk?” Yelena says when you’re back. You just shrug your shoulders, sighing as you go up the steps. “Well, ok. Have a seat”

“What is Bishop doing?” you ignore her invitation, taking a look through the window.

“Trying to cook dinner”

“Is she going to burn my house down?”

“I’d give it a 40-60 chance of it happening” the blonde smiles, clearly not worried about it. Then, she pats the space next to her on the porch swing. “Now come. Sit”

With a sigh, you walk up to her and lean against the bannister, crossing your arms as you look at her. Yelena rolls her eyes at your defensive stan.

“So, what’s the deal between you and this Wanda?”

“Nothing”

“Not what I heard” she shakes her head, amused. You glare.

“From who?”

“Barton”

“Oh, come on. You were trying to kill the guy a few weeks ago and now you gossip? He braids your hair while he’s at it?” you mock.

“Ok, fine. Not directly from him. He called Kate and she called me”

“She called you or you were together?” you tease her.

“Stop being an ass. Tell me what’s going on”

You look away for a moment, thinking that you could tell her it’s none of her business. Ask her to leave you alone, to try and get drunk, forget about everything that’s weighing you down.

But you can’t. Because, whether you like it or not, you’re bound by grief, and loss. And love. Love for Natasha.

If she was struggling with something, you’d be chasing her around until you made sure she was ok.

“Nothing. I thought… Hill asked me for help to protect her. And for those couple of weeks, I developed these feelings. Maybe I was just lonely”

“Feelings? Like love?”

“I guess. But she left, and it’s probably for the best. She’s right; someone always gets hurt”

“You’re already hurt” she replies, her voice gentle.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll get over it”

“But do you have to? Why not go after her? Give yourself the chance to be happy. Just once”

“I don’t think… I didn’t do anything to stop her, Yelena. I don’t think I can be happy, after failing Natasha” you finally say, voice shaking.

“You didn’t fail her. She made a choice. After everything she went through, all the possibilities that were taken from her… do you really think the last thing she ever did was against her will?”

You can’t answer that.

What’s worse? To think you could have stopped her? Or that her sacrifice was always inevitable?

Yelena stands up, her hand on your shoulder.

“Just… remember what you told me. A life worth living. That’s the best way to honor her memory”

“Yeah” you sigh, looking up. You hate crying.

Though, a second later you smell the smoke and hear Kate’s scream.

“We should probably go help her”

“And order some pizza” Yelena adds, smiling as you roll your eyes.

—

It’s been a while since you’ve been here.

The gifts and letters scattered around always warm your heart.

There are people who value her, honor her life.

Natasha’s legacy.

As far as your little tribute, it’s all the plants you placed around this hidden corner of land.

You spend some time cutting and cleaning the grass around the gravestone, and then turn your attention to the flowers.

The peonies get pruned, daffodils adding a spring of color. You know the hydrangeas aren’t blooming until early summer, but that’s fine.

Natasha once told you; bare trees or withering flowers didn’t make her sad. It meant she was staying long enough in one place to watch them go through every season. It meant she had a home.

Once you’re done removing the soil, checking the watering system you installed, and fixing the little gifts people left for her, you sit on the floor, watching your hands.

“Sorry for not coming sooner. Hill called me. And you know I answered because she was your friend. Turns out she wanted me to help out Maximoff. She got a bit more annoying than when she was running around the Compound looking like a raccoon with all that eyeliner” you chuckle at the memory of her dark clothes, rings and smoky eyes. She couldn’t look more different now.

“I should have known it was going to be trouble, and I don’t mean just because I almost got killed twice. It’s because… I started to fall for her. She has two kids, by the way. Born from magic or some weird deal I don’t really understand”

I didn’t think I had it in me, to fall in love again. Not only because I lost you, but because I had been so angry at everyone. It felt like I only had space for that emotion. Anger.

But I saw myself in Wanda. In everything she lost, in all the things that were taken from her, without so much as an apology. And I want more for her. I want her to be happy. Maybe with me. Why not?

As usual, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. It’s different this time, though. I still feel sad and lonely, but it’s also a different kind of nostalgia. I can think about you and appreciate everything we shared.

Most importantly, I think I’m finally ok with the fact that you made your choice. I have to trust that you knew what you were doing, Tasha. And that whether I like it or not, it is what you wanted.

You lean your head against her grave, the stone cold against your skin. It makes your heart ache, it makes you wish you could bring her back and feel her warmth against your body.

How could you ever think Wanda’s a monster? If you could, you’d create a new reality, a new universe where Natasha gets to live the life she always deserved.

But you can’t do that. All you can do is go and find your own happinnes.

With a final touch, you speak softly, hoping she can hear you, wherever she is.

“I love you, so damn much. And I always will”

—

Very few times in her life, has Wanda regretted putting on The Dick Van Dyke Show.

And then, she realises what episode they’re watching.

Never name a duck.

The one where Ritchie becomes attached to two ducks, but only one of them survives. Until he’s sick and the vet tells Rob he needs to be in the wild.

The words that come out of Rob’s mouth make Wanda think of you.

“But maybe that was a selfish love”

That’s exactly what she thinks her love for you is. Selfish.

You didn’t ask for any of this, and Wanda’s not about to burden you with everything she carries. She’ll manage alone, like she has done ever since Pietro died.

Except she wasn’t alone. There was Vision, Steve and Natasha. You, in the background, doing your part, fighting for Wanda’s right to have a life outside of this.

Even if she misses you, you deserve to have a life.

And so, she let you go.

“Can we watch something else?” Billy asks, and Wanda can tell the show is making him sad as well.

“Sure, sweetheart”

After watching Zootopia, the kids drag their feet to the room they’re sharing. Fury provided another safe house, while Wanda decides where to go next. Billy and Tommy need stability and of course they won’t get it by changing houses every other day.

“Can I ask you something?” Tommy says, turning to look at Billy, making sure his brother’s asleep. “Is Y/N ok?”

“I sure hope she is, my sweet boy. She knows how to take care of herself” Wanda smiles at him, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears that are almost rolling down her cheeks. “Now you get some sleep, ok? I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Night, Mom” he replies, settling in bed.

As Wanda takes a moment in the hallway, she allows herself to think about you, probably back home. Watching Ancient Aliens, cursing at the TV as you sip on a bottle of beer.

It’s stupid, how much comfort it brings her to think of you doing the most absurd things.

Said comfort doesn’t last long, though. She hears a branch snapping close to the house. It’s a small place and the road ends a few feet away from the entrance. So, whoever approaches has to leave their vehicle and walk to the front door.

Without wasting a second, she goes to the door, hand up in the air to hold the intruder.

“Hey, now wait a second” you say, smiling.

Wanda’s so shocked that she drops her hand, you crashing down immediately after.

“I’m sorry” she rushes to your side, and you sit up. Wanda places her hands in your face,  fingers tracing the cuts and bruises that are still healing.

On pure instinct, you move forward, kissing her. She moans against your lips, allowing you to wrap your strong arms around her waist. But then she remembers.

“Stop”

“No” you shake your head, pulling her closer. “You said you’d stay, Wanda”

“That was before”

“Before…”

“You almost got killed because of me” she sighs, pushing her hair back and standing up. You follow her, reaching for her hand.

“Can’t even tell you how many people have tried to kill me. And I’m still here”

“It wasn’t just him. It was Agatha too. And who knows what else? I’m like a magnet for these things. I don’t want you getting hurt” she says, arms around her own body, as if desperate to find something that can hold her together.

“Wanda… bad things are going to happen. It’s part of life. Wouldn’t you want to face them with someone who… who cares about you?” you whisper, holding her chin between your fingers.

“I’m scared”

“The thing is, we’ve both lost people. And I know, I can’t deny that a part of me will always love Natasha… but I think I have to accept she made a choice. And I should try to live my life. I think Vision would want that for you as well. I mean the real Vision; not that white awful thing” 

“I just don’t want to lose anyone else. I don’t know if I can take it” she says, finally reaching forward. You kiss her temple.

“Well, just come back home and we’ll take it one day at a a time. Together”

“The kids miss you” she says after a beat of silence.

“And I miss them, but I swear if there’s a fourth Cars movie I will burn down Pixar myself”

Wanda laughs for a moment, her breath tickling your skin.

“Promise me you won’t leave me” she says against your neck and you smile, making her look at you.

“Scout’s honor, witchy”

“Don’t…” Wanda’s about to fight you on the nickname, when you meet her lips in a soft kiss.

“Just stop fighting it. You like me too much”

“You wish” she teases, kissing you again.

Looks like you’re stuck with each other.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[soleadita]

ateez + encore chaos thoughts [first win with “wave” on mnet m! countdown, june 2019]

in which i make a post about a new interest when most of my mutuals are asleep, because i am shy on the internet

i was lured to this full performance (if we are indeed calling this a performance, i say with ALL the love in my heart) after the algorithms™️ saw fit to show me a much shorter clip featuring their attempts to sing through their tears, and it’s been haunting me for a week straight. i want to study it. i need to study it. there’s too much going on; it’s impossible to catch it all. (full disclosure, i don’t fully understand the significance of this win—just that it was apparently their first award and apparently quite meaningful? i am still learning. BUT GOOD FOR THEM!!)

[@storkmuffin these are the yunho tears i mentioned earlier but in my excitement i didn’t think to add that they’re buried in a 5 minute video of other ateez tears and shenanigans instead of being something quick and easily digestible. but here they are nonetheless!! if you (OR ANYONE ELSE please talk to me about this please please) have more thoughts…please. take it away.]

broad highlights:

everyone but mingi (and san, san is doing A+ at the show must go on here) weeping at different intervals and wandering around the stage like npcs. (guys, they genuinely look so…distraught? no, not the right word. overcome? well, whatever it is, it’s HORRIFICALLY endearing.)

yeosang making a beeline for wooyoung after the announcement and crying into his back—and then san hugging both of them.

yunho’s combo of crying, singing, and jumping around in a somewhat mingi-esque fashion, and how he’s moving between these…states of being. (around 2:40ish he goes from dancing and seemingly hyping (for a certain value of hype) the crowd to like…covering his face with his hand and crying, but then he goes right back into dancing and jumping even though i’m 85% certain he’s (possibly unsuccessfully) attempting to hold back tears. this feels very interesting to me in a way i’m refusing to examine further until the weekend.)

mingi JUMPING AROUND THE STAGE AND GRINNING while all of this is going on around him…i have Too Many thoughts about this actually. (and according to the yt comment section, he cried alone in his room afterwards. i have Thoughts and Feelings about this too.)

the way every time it looks like wooyoung is maaaaybe gonna get it together, he drops the mic and his face crumples again. (baby!!!!)(they are so tiny here…2019 feels like it was three lifetimes ago.)

san’s attempts to comfort wooyoung and/or get him to rally. (seonghwa does this too, i think, and it is equally adorable. and then at one point hongjoong like…pats wooyoung on the head? i think?)(separately, watching seonghwa try to maintain composure while standing next to Big Energy Jumping Grinning Mingi at the very beginning is such an experience. for a couple seconds there i feel like he’s almost trying to be like “ok chill, my guy” but im not sure im reading that right.)

speaking of hongjoong, he is also breaking down intermittently—i think he just tends to walk off to the side of the stage or to the back, where he’s then obscured by taller (sometimes jumping) members. (from what i can see, it seems like seonghwa does this too, but i need to stop rewatching the clip to fact check myself because then i get distracted by other details when what i should’ve been doing as of three hours ago is going to sleep.)

and this isn’t even getting into jongho. he is weeping; he is npc-stumbling around stage; he is still hitting those high notes through his tears. tbh i would expect nothing less from him. go, jongho!!!

tldr, i feel like i’m watching a group of preschoolers who are overdue for their naptimes and having Big Feelings about it. (and again, i mean this in the fondest way possible…this is all for fun, and is meant in no way to invalidate the feelings they’re expressing. i think part of the allure here, for me at least, is that in the live performance clips i’ve seen, they’re so polished!! and this feels so different; they’re newer at this point, it’s an encore and not like…a planned performance(?), they’ve just received impactful news and are handling the emotional aftermath of it…it’s just really fascinating to watch. they’re goofy, they’re talented, i love them.)

fin.