#made myself sob and weep hELP /j

[cloudsrust]

Alright uh random but- Flesh Maze Tango came up in my playlist and it made me remember goddamn italian Dedan and I'm absolutely losing my shit because-.. yeah it's funny when you're imagining the stereotypical italian-english accent... but personally actual italian swearing scares the hell out of me.

So imagining an italian Dedan, especially an angry one, just makes him 10 times scarier to me... I both hate and love it oh noo,,

..God now I want to draw him speaking italian ough,,

Alright alright this is all for the absolutely random OFF re-emergence gfdg

[jaeminscoffee]

Hide and seek | J. Jh

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst

Warning(s): Dubcon, yandere themes, possessiveness, knife play, reader endures all forms of physical abuse, heavy use of the words princess and doll, implied kidnapping/drug usage/pregnancy, lmk if i missed any

type; drabble : 1.01k

A/n: this drabble is a pure work of fiction and does not reflect on the characters' real life personalities. I do not condone to any of the behaviour portrayed in this story neither do i think it's something to lust over in real life. These sort of themes are hot just to read in fictions so they should be kept as fiction itself and never implemented in real life.

You suppress another set of sobs threatening to erupt from your throat as your 'lover' rammed into you for the nth time that night. 

As pleasurable as it might have seemed in another scenario, here all you could feel was pain. 

Open wounds painted your skin. Brown, purple, red scars adorned the tissue as though to colour the artwork made by him. Your insides hurt from the constant tossing and throwing you went through. 

Your abdomen begged to get some sort of soft touch from all the rough whips, kicks, slashes and hits it endured. Your bottom hurts even worse. Having more open wounds than you'd like to think you had. Your body had turned into this pitiful canvas that craved for some sort of rest, love, and alas, some human touch. 

"you know i hate hurting you, doll. You just look so ethereal with my marks on you, I can't help myself" Jaehyun mused. You knew better than to speak up. At the same time you knew better than to stay completely quiet; you let a whimper escape you, earning a groan from the lad behind you. 

"you're enjoying this, right babe? You love this as much as i do, correct? Tell me our feeling's mutual" He growled, his hands finding home atop your ass, fingers applying pressure into the open words that decorated the skin, opening them enough for the crimson liquid to surge out, enough for your cries to finally let loose. 

That seemed to add onto Jaehyun's pleasure all the more, him applying even more pressure due to your ignorance posed to his question. 

"Don't you love this, princess?" he asked, a little more craze added to his tone to make it evident that he wants an answer.

"Y-ye-.. Yes, Jae.." you breathe out nimbly, not having it in you to form a sentence, let alone a word due to exhaustion and the weakness that came with whatever drink he'd offered you that morning. Or the drink he'd offered after breakfast. No, maybe it was the one before lunch. You don't remember. 

All you remember was finally building up the courage to run away from Jaehyun for the first time since he'd brought you to this unknown location. Only for that courage to falter the moment Jaehyun's sing-song voice called out to you from one corner of the house, summoning you and inevitably, getting you into the situation you're in right now. 

It's unknown how Jaehyun found out about your motives. Maybe it was the fact that you'd avoided drinking the liquid he'd usually force down your throat. Maybe it was because you were acting normal. Maybe it's because you failed to showcase that you were lethargic from the drinks. Or it could be the fact that he somehow managed to hear the lowest of rattle produced by the chains on the door that kept the two of you shut, secluded from the monstrous world out there as he'd coin. 

"Atta girl.. I know you love this," His voice dropped ridiculously low, picking up pace once again only moments before he'd reached his high, forcibly pulling you into yours too. 

Nothing about the high had you feeling the slightest of bliss. If anything, you felt destroyed. Weak. Broken, which; you were sure you were after all the hits you've endured. All the cuffs that's pulled on your wrists. All the bats that've made contact with your body. Worst of all, all the kicks and punches Jaehyun had given you. 

Disgusted, knowing how his essence had coated your inside, mixing with yours which you were sure would produce an innocent being which you'd inevitably grow to hate because that thing came from the monster behind you, who'd pulled up his pants and was buckling his belt. 

His fingers found suite inside of you once he was half dressed, earning a blood curdling scream from you and the intense burn the south of your body produced, 

"Just like that baby, scream for me. Scream while I secure myself in you."

"Think of it, our child would look absolutely stunning, don't you think?" he groans at the idea as you thrash around, wanting to be as far as you can from him. This only upset him. Why didn't you want his child? 

And just like that, it all comes to a stop. 

"It's no fun if you just stay quiet and weep around.." he mumbled out loud enough for you to hear, bile collecting itself at your throat as you wonder what other sick idea he'd want to act out in this small span of time. Your muscles cried, cried and cried for all it could. Wanting nothing more than to rest, rest forever even. 

"I know!" 

You jump as Jaehyun suddenly gets up and stands at the foot of the bed, pulling you harshly by the arms before discarding your being onto the floor, "Hide and Seek! Yes, we'll play hide and seek!" he exclaims excitedly.

"If I find you, then well, I fill you up until I'm sure you bear my child. If you manage to hide from me, then I'll let you go, " That made your ears perk, he'll let you go? 

"Y-you will..?" you ask softly, not wanting to pull at any of his strings, failing to look him in the eyes. Jaehyun crouches down to be eye level with you, his hands pursue you to look at him, "If you win, well yes." his grip tightens, 

"Now let's start the game, shall we?-" he gets up, brushing away invisible lint from his pants that hung loosely around his waist, 

"-you have 5 seconds to hide" Jaehyun's face contorts into a psychotic smirk as he watches your eyes widen, scrambling to get onto your feet only to fail and fall back due to the immense muscle pain, you cry out trying once again, knowing he was playing dirty. You watch as his eyebrows twitch with amusement, lips drawn into a wide smile as he leans down to look at you cower away from him, 

"Run."

[mishasminion360]

The Weight of Words You Can’t Take Back

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: The third, potentially final installment (or is it?) of what started out as a Javier Peña x Reader one shot. Thank you for helping this story grow with all of your kindness, likes, and support.

You remember the deafening bang, a noise so loud that it shook the earth, followed by the sound of twisting metal and crumbling stone. Then there were screams. So many screams. Some of them your own.

But as suddenly as that cacophony began, it ended just as quickly, replaced with blissful, gentle silence. And silence is where you stayed. You bathed in it, built a home in it, became it. You were a guest in the quiet for an indiscernible amount of time, maybe a minute, maybe a year, but that’s all you were: a guest. And at some point the silence had decided that you’d overstayed your welcome.

The world began to return to life gradually as, to some level of your understanding, you did as well. Sound returned slowly, muffled and distorted at first, but progressively gained clarity. You could make out indistinct noises: rhythmic beeps, the gentle tap of soft soled shoes and the sharp clack of heels, the whoosh of air and mechanical humming.

Words were the next thing to reach you, but they came in fragments:

“....hemorrhaging....”

“Cerebral....internal....”

“....damage....comatose....”

“....wrong place, wrong time....”

“Will she....?”

“Surgery....success....”

“....right here.”

“Just a matter of time until....”

“Come back....”

“Vitals Stabilizing....”

“Please.....”

“Recovery will be difficult.”

“Wake up, baby.”

“Come back to me.”

“Please, come back to me. Please.”

“I’m here.”

After awhile your sluggish brain was able to put sentences together, connecting words like puzzle pieces. The only voice you couldn’t hear was your own, and as hard as you tried you couldn’t seem to convince your mouth to open up up and let your tongue do it’s job.

You were unable to speak at all until around the time your sense of feeling returned as well. And your first word was “ouch”.

Your throat was painfully dry, made of sandpaper. It hurt to breathe, but even more so when you didn’t. Your eyes felt as if they’d been glued shut and your eyelids were tricky to separate. When the curtain of your lashes finally parted, the world was cloaked in shadow. Thank God for that. In this instant you felt that to look into any source of light would be too great a task.

As your faculties returned cautiously, you began connecting new puzzles pieces: bomb, building, pain, nothing, and now hospital. You were in a hospital. And you were sore as hell.

Tubes were going into your nose, your wrist. One of your arms was entombed in a cast, and you could feel one of your legs beneath the bedsheets was as well. You felt battered and bruised and stitched back together; Frankenstein’s monster brought back from the dead.

But all of these injuries paled in comparison to the weight that had settled on your chest. It was crushing your lungs, smothering your heart, and splintering your ribs. And this weight was a person.

Even with your eyes still adjusting to the world around you, you recognized that head of thick black hair, now a little disheveled. His face was buried in the sheets that cocooned you, and he snored into them softly. One large, gentle hand was clasped firmly around your own; he clung to you as if you were a life preserver and he were a drowning man at sea.

It took you a few painful tries to squeeze his name out of your raw throat. “J-Javier...?”

He stirred a bit, turning toward the sound of your voice in his sleep.

“Javi?”

His eyes finally fluttered open, red rimmed and bloodshot, and went wide when he realized you were also awake.

“Oh, God. Baby?”

His voice was as raspy as your own. You may have been mistaken, but you were almost positive his hands were shaking as they reached up to delicately cup your face. He smiled then, and a rarer sight you’d never seen.

“You’re...heavy,” you wheezed. He looked to see that he had practically mounted you and immediately pulled back to alleviate the discomfort he’d caused.

“Let me...let me get the doctor,” he stammered. He stood to leave the room, but you grabbed at his wrist.

“No...stay.”

He didn’t argue, only resumed his seat at your side and attempted to find new ways to touch you that wouldn’t cause you more pain.

“You look like shit,” you said quirking the corners of your mouth up in a weak little smile that made your dry lips crack.

He huffed out a small breath that was supposed to be a laugh. “Right back at you.”

Javi carefully stroked stray strands of hair from your face as his eyes grew noticeably damp.

“Baby, you scared the hell out of me.” His voice shook.

“What happened?” You had to ask even though you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Javier cleared his throat, the words obviously not coming easy to him.

“There was a...a car bomb. 220 pounds of TNT wiped out almost the entire shopping district. It’s nothing but a crater now. So many people...a lot of people...”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t utter the last word, but you knew just the one he was thinking.

Died. A lot of people died.

“Fuck, it was right outside your apartment,” Javi growled, burying his face in his hands.

“Escobar?”

“Who else?”

“How long...how long have I been out?”

“Almost three weeks.”

His voice broke on the last word and his breath began escaping in short bursts as his chest heaved. You’d never seen him this scared. This broken.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he sobbed. “For good.”

You tried to sit up but couldn’t muster the strength, so instead you placed a hand on the back of his head and gently pulled him down to you.

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. A little worse for wear, but I’m here.”

Javi wrapped his arms around you, desperate to feel you. To know that he wasn’t just dreaming this.

“I’m sorry. I so sorry. If I had just told you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” he blabbered, weeping between the words. “If I had just told you right from the start, then you could have been with me. Safe with me.”

Your hand traced soothing circles on his back as he cried into your shoulder. Javier Peña was human after all. Who knew?

“Told me what Javier?”

He lifted his wet, puffy face so that his glistening eyes could gaze into yours.

“That I love you,” he whispered. “That I’m in love with you.”

You smiled through the pain. It couldn’t be helped.

“Javi, you don’t have to say that just because I said it. It’s okay.”

“I’m not just saying it!” he protested. Javi carefully pressed his forehead to yours and squeezed his eyes shut. “I mean it.”

You couldn’t tell if the tears you felt on your face were yours or his.

“I have loved you since the day we met. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about anyone, and I was too scared to admit it. To you or myself.”

He pulled back, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. He wrapped your hand in both of his and kissed each one of your bruised, torn knuckles.

“When you told me you didn’t want to see me anymore, I realized that I was more afraid of losing you than loving you. And then...then this happened,” he spat, gesturing to your broken and battered body.

“This,” you interjected, “is not your fault.”

Injuries be damned, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position in bed and Javi helped you with a hand supporting your stiff back.

“I was scared, too, Javier. Scared of falling for you. Because love is a scary thing. Offering your heart, the most precious and personal part of yourself to someone is terrifying. Not knowing if you’ll get the same in return. Yes, you hesitated for awhile there, Javier, but hesitating doesn’t make you some unfeeling asshole...”

You brought your hands to the sides of his face and he mirrored the gesture.

“It makes you human, Javi. So very human.”

“Does this mean I get another chance?” he asked, his face soft but his eyes pleading.

“That depends,” you said, easing back into the bed and bringing him with you once again.

“On what?”

“Are you going to kiss me, or not?”

He wastes no time. Javi grins against your lips before deepening the kiss, filling it with every emotion that’s been overwhelming him for the past several days. And in that moment he vows to heal your pain with all the love he has to give.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

[theblackbirdsgemimagines]

Ramble away, cause I feel the twisted head rot, I kinda wanna see what you think about our bois. ~ a pocket sized dragon hops in excitement.

A POCKET SIZED DWAGOOOOOONNNN 😭💞💞💞 That’s so BLESSED, and tysm omg, I’m very glad to just spill out my barking on every boy, bc yEAH THE BRAIN ROT SKDHAKDB

THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL LOL

Everything I breathe ends up relating to TWST in some way, like at this point just let me take my friends, cousins, and pets, and of course Lulu and Seb, and I will have 1. A Gottdamned Harem, 2. So Many Children, and 3. NEVER WANT TO LEAVE. Kwfhskdhjwek

Ok this is gonna be long bc I gotta cover all my boys, so rip lol.

Dorm Leads:

Riddle

GOD, my Fucking Baby, my CHILD, my SWEET BABY BOY, I’M 👁💧👄💧👁

I would die for him, beetch, he is PRECIOUS ♥️

He reminds me of how I feel Ciel would behave if S/O took the place as Sebastian’s contracee, too, so like 🥺 Lots of feels 😭

Is Son, I have adopted him now. If you mistreat him, don’t ever speak to me or my son ever again. I’ll FIGHT his MOM, don’t TEST me. I’m his new mom now. His BIRD mom. So proud of him, he’s like...one of the few that’s actually shown growth in canon after his overblot kshdkadjs

Leona

👁💧👄💧👁

.....I am a Mere Simp....

Ya’ll.... I swearh to ghOD I simped hard for Scar back when I was a wee thing, I did NOT expect to simp for him AGAIN LATER IN LIFE, what the FUCK aidhskdhskdj

Like shit bitch, damn, you may not be king of Afterglow honey, but you can be king of my heart if you wAnt to bb....

Leona: *smiles once, even if it’s smugly*

Me: *WEEPING* Look at hiiiiiiim!! My sunshine booooooy! 😭

Does this make me a furry

Probably

I am too Simp to Care Anymore

I HESITATED TO GET ATTACHED BC THIS BOY LOOKS LIKE A FUCKIN WOMANIZER IF I EVER SAW ONE, BUT HE DRINKS HIS RESPECT WOMEN JUICE EVERY SINGLE MORNING AND I WAS A GONNER SNDJAJDHSJ

FUCK

Call me a Herbivore again, bully me //SLAPPED

Azul

He secretly a lil shit sometimes, but tha’s ok, it’s mostly in a silly way, especially post overblot~ UvU

The sweetest bby everytime I read fanposts on him, like god, ah 💜💜💜 WHOMST COULD BULLY SUCH A CUTE CHUBBY OCTOBABY I’LL FIGHT ALL OF EM!! A sweetheart 10/10 would be his friend 💗 Not making contracts with him tho, lol

...ok maybe SOME after his overblot, but they’re able to be easily reversed now, so it’s way more chill andhsjdj

Kalim

FUCK!!!! F U C K!!!! BABYYYYYYY!!!! BABY!!!! I HAVE ADOPTED HIM IF YOU TOUCH HIM YOU D I E

He is literally so sweet, anytime anyone was like “you’re so nice it’s annoying” I WAS READY TO COME FLYING IN TO BITCH SLAP THEM LIKE AJDHSKDHSJ (even if I also loved them lol)

Like NO you are WRONG whfksjd

He has also grown so much, and I am proud ♥️🧡

Vil

Jesus Christ, canon Vil is Hurting Meeeeee ajdhskdhsj

My fave fanon Vil is the one that recognizes all different types of beauty, though~ uvu and is v encouraging to anyone that may be struggling with self hatred 💜

Canon: Vil is pretty~.

Me: Wow, wtf???? He IS so pretty... How rude I didn’t think you were serious! Wow him??? Pretty??? Wow??? Wow...

Idia

I’m not sure yet, as I haven’t seen him very often, but of the few times that I have: BIG same, huge mood, and Me FUCKING Too, goddamn akdhakdj

Idia is my Anxiety and Anime Nerd personified tbh lol

What Ortho is to him are what all my comfort characters are to me, honestly.

Like what would you like bby, you want that singing voice?? Ok here comes a synthesizer just special for you~. Ily, mwah~ u3u 💕

Malleus

HEAVY BREATHING

Ok maybe it’s just the lack of story/info out on him yet, but I don’t currently simp as hard for him compared to Leona, I’ll admit jajdkajd

BUT BOY HOWDEY DO I EVER STILL S I M P...

He Is Baby... And I Lob Him....

I am going to smooch those horns and forehead crown of beautiful scales 🖤🖤🖤 I am going to do it!!!! Here I go!!!

HE CAN HAVE ALL THE ICE CREAM AND TAMAGATCHI DATES HE WANTS I’M- 😭

This man is too precious for words, and I have so much childhood nostelgia to ‘enchanted’ woods, and being in the mountains, so he has Old Fae Friend vibes to me~🖤

DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON FORM DRAGON F-

Ngl I ship him and Leona a lil bit lol

No, not just bc that makes a poly with my two faves easier, but that is a bonus factor jadhajdj

Vice Dorm Heads:

Trey

Oh my god, the Daddy to my Mommy with all these newly adopted lil kids of ours, ya know??? What a wholesome sweetie and funny lil shit jahdksdh~

I love him, I would gladly make tarts with, AND for him 💚💚💚

The kind of boi who I’d ship HARD with anyone he started dating bc My God it would warm my heart So Much 💞💞

Ruggie (unofficial but may as well be at this point lol)

He took a while to grow on me kadhskdhsj

But I think he’d be a sweet, if a trouble-maker of a friend to have~.

Dank you for taking care of my sweet lion bby, honey, I’m sure Farrena is a sweetheart, but boi I hope he gets his shit together to fix up where Ruggie lives 😭

I think if I met his granny, I’d CRY jadhajsh 💗💗

Leech Twins (?)

Idk if they’re vice leaders, but who cares lol

THESE are the older Big Brothers in every sense of the word. (My canon ages most everyone up just a bit, save for Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Jamil, Cheka, and anyone already 20+)

The ANNOYING older big brothers, lol.

The ones that hug you to death (Floyd), or use you for an arm rest (Jade), and specifically Do the thing you asked/told them NOT to Do.

This is fine with me tho, I’m an only child, please give me the experience of annoying older brothers lol 💙💚

Jamil

I used to hate you bby, I’m so sorry akdhskdhs

I’ve adopted him now, and I’m v proud he’s trying, but making clear what his boundaries are, and trying to come out of a shell he was made to be in for so long 😭

AND HIS DANCING IS SICK LIKE HONESTLY I’M SUCH A PROUD MOM 💗💗💗

Rook

God. FUCKING Rook, lol.

IDK IF I SHOULD TRUST YOU, but I also kinda wanna be your friend akdhakdjs

HE CONCERNS ME but he also seems nice and v sweet sometimes, lmao

Blz don’t stalk me tho 😬

STOP SHOOTING YOUR ARROWS AROUND SCHOOL YOU BLOODY HEATHEN FRENCH PRISS, YOU ARE GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

Also, if he DARES hunt cute animals around me, especially BIRDS, I am going to GRIP him jahdkahdsk

He’s like if Lord Druitt was a Little More Nice and a Little Bit Less Creepy ajdhak

Lilia:

GOD.

I LOVE THIS FUCKING GRANDPA.

I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS FUCKING. GRANDPA.

I absolutely hc him as nonbinary w/masc pronouns, I absoLUTELY do.

I adore him, I love him, I haven’t gotten a squish (hardcore desire to be someone’s friend, lol) this hard for a character since AngelDust, I-

Pwease be nonbinary friends with me, Lilia 🥺

THE ONLY PERSON HERE SHORTER THAN ME, BUT I’LL TAKE IT AJDHAKDHJS

Anyone know Corpse and how he plays Among Us? That’s how I see Lilia playing his video games with friends and I JUST I JUST I J U S T

The Spencer to your Carly.

He and Crowley are free to compete as Dad with me too like honestly kshdkadjjs

He’ll always be granpa tho uvu 💚💖🖤

Extras:

Ace

God, the Fucking Annoying Middle Brother that pranks you ALL THE DAMN TIME, but I love him andhakdhsk

Deuce

THE BROTHER THAT WILL BEAT UP YOUR BULLIES 💙💙💙 SWEET BABY BOY

The Josh to Ace’s Drake. The Cody to Ace’s Zack. The Freddie to your Carly and Ace’s Sam.

If he and Ace started dating, tho, I would CRY.

But regardless who they end up dating, it’ll be slow burn friends to lovers, and literally the most adorable shit to watch EVER 💞💞💞😭

Cater

Seems Like A Womanizer But Actually Drinks His Reapect Women Juice And We Stan That 🧡

Can always count on him to help tou get the best Magicram shots, bless you Cater 🧡🧡

Also rly wanna be his friend, ngl 😭 Even IF he pranks me a lot kadhakdhsj

Jack:

H E AV Y BR EA T H IN G

Ngl my feelings for him are in the air IDK IF I WANNA SMOOCH OR NOT YET I JUST KNOW I LOB HIM HE GOODEST BESTEST BOY 💛💛💛😭

If all three Savannaclaw bois got in a cuddle pile with me, I would Not Be Mad

How can I give this boy love, tell me and I will Do It

Gift him all the cacti’s he WANTS💛

God he drinks that respecc women juice bright and early on his run every morning, you KNOW he does 💛💛💛

I wawnt to pet his ears an tail an fwuffy wolf form 😭

I WAWNT TO SEE THE BOY SMILE AND BE HAPPY 💞💞💞

Sebek

CHILL CHILL CHILL CHILL CH-

He is a v devoted guard tho, we love to see it UvU

I don’t have more info on him hekdhskdj but his fanmade content seems v v sweet~ 💚

Silver

HE ATTRACTS BIRDS AND I CRY ABOUT IT PLEASE BE MY FRIEND AND TEACH ME HOW 🥺🥺🥺

Him being raised by Lilia and Malleus literally gives me so much Fucking Seratonin....... God 💞💕💗💗💞💞💗💗💕💞

Ortho

IS BABY????? IS BABY!!!!!! I’M LOVE HIM I’M ADOPTING HIM IS BABYYYYYYY 💙💙💙💙💙

Cheka:

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

He is so FUCKING CUTE what the FUCK!

Leonaaaaaaa... 🥺 Your NEPHEWWWWW 😭

I might steal him from Farrena tbh, lIKE MY CHILD NOW~ 🧡🧡

I just sob and hug him every time I see him honestly 😭

Teachers:

Dire Crowley

Ohhhhhh god oh god oh god

Be my dad. Please. Be my dad. PLEASE be my dad. Ya’ll think I’m joking, I’m not. Please adopt me. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

This man as a father gives me so much dopamine and oxytocin and seratonin??? I have been weeping for WEEKS, please adopt me, Sir

Fathers with zero braincells being wrapped around a daughter’s little finger makes me so weak, and I am just here with Daddy Issues like ajdhakdhsj BLEASE ADOPT ME MISTER BIRD MAN

Crewel

Ew.

Forgive me, I haven’t seen much content with him in it/that could be considered wholesome, bUT JADHWKDJSJ

UncoMFORTABLE

Please keep the kink talk out of the classroom, S I R

Call me puppy one more time, see what happens, I’m not scared to fight a teacher akdhakdhsj

Trein

The Dad Figure that tries to be the stern part to Crowley’s blumbering kahdkqrhsjdj

Don’t feel as much attachment to him emotionally, but I like him~

Just let me pet your cat sometimes and give you holiday presents, and we’re cool~ ♥️

Vargas

Found the womanizer //SMACKED

And of course, I can’t forget Grim~!

He’s grown on me, and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in the room, and then myself 😭

I will pet and snuggle and hold him all he wants and feed him all the tuna his heart desires uvu 💙

[anonymous0writer]

I Love Him II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Request: Yes!

“song request: i luv him. by catie turner x jj maybank“

Warnings: Angst dude. angst. 

A/N: This was amazing to write lol. also it’s a tiny bit confusing bc it’s all different points in their relationship meshing into this one, so the times are confusing. 

But basically it’s just now, before and after. i guess. I put “Before” “After” “Now” before the text so y’all know :)

Tags: @jayjaymaebank @rudys-pankow @maaybanks@everydayimfangirling @outrbank @thelocalpogue @decap-quadrant @ahhireallydontknow @never-ever-too-many-fandoms@kylosleftbuttcheek @insanitysparkles @divcrdown @youfookendonut @dpaccione​ @outerbanksbro​  @jjs-housekeeping​ @teenwaywardasgardian​ @traumaflavouredjuulpod @magnuolia @sarapage89 @emsma11 @bxbyyyjocelyn​ @teamnick​ @jjmbanks​ @thesurfingsnail @lulubutton34​ @obxsummer​ @katiaw2​ @poguecollins​ @notaninstagrammodel​ @danicarosaline​ @timmyswrld​ @gmwlover100​ @koufaxx @bellaguarneri​ @diverrdown​ @drewswannabegirl​ @lordsagittarius​ @drew-starkey​ @mahleeyuh​ @starkeymarkey​ @mcarignan @copper-boom​ @jessica-112​ @alternativehp​

(if your user is striked, that means i can’t tag you, message me and we can try to fix it!)

Song lyrics look like this

-Now

He's what I want But I'm not what he needs He needs to wake up and look in the mirror And like just what he sees

You stared at the boy in front of you, lip caught between your teeth as you bit it, your eyes giving away what you were feeling.

You felt like reaching out, so your fingertips could brush his skin and you felt the heat of his skin and made sure he was still breathing and safe. You needed to know the exact heat of his skin and feel the living boy, but you refrained, keeping your feelings on a tight leash. This was for him. And if you ruined that, shattered that moment, you could never forgive yourself. Yet you found your fingers twitching and a tear pricking your eyes. 

Your lips trembled, but you closed them together, letting the boy leave. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks like waterfalls. Pushing them back you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying not to cry because you knew that if you started, you wouldn’t stop. And he didn’t need that. Didn’t need to hear your erratic, uncontrolled sobs and your heart break. Plus, this wasn’t about you. This was about him. All of this was for him. He needed to get better and you loved him too much to not get him help.

A sob tried to escape your lips, so you bit down on your lip so hard it drew blood. You didn’t even wince as the tangy flavor filled your mouth. You just watched his blonde head bob as he ducked under the doorway and his feet carried him away. The sobs were silent, but they racked your body, tearing your strength away slowly. 

You wanted him. Wanted to keep him safe and happy and love him. You wanted him more than anything, but you knew that you weren’t what he needed. And that broke you the most.

And it kills me That I have to leave To watch him go get better 'Cause I'd set myself on fire If it meant he'd come back after

The warm, embracing air did nothing to soothe or warm you. Your feet shifted against the gravel of the driveway, unable to keep still. Your heart ached, breaking in the tiny cavity in your ribs. Every fiber of your begin weeped. Screamed for you to run back to the blonde, wrap him in your arms and let him kiss you. To feel his lips work against yours, everything around you fading into a haze of nothing. 

But you need to leave. So you bit your lip, trying to keep the wave of emotions in your gut at bay. You needed to leave so he could heal and get better. So you gripped the door handle a little tighter and without a second thought, you ripped the door open. The cool seats slid against your thighs as you climbed in and you started the car, the engine rumbling to life as you stared blankly ahead. The car lurched as you pressed on the gas and you sped off, gravel spitting behind your tires. The car left the driveway and disappeared, you with it. 

Clean break. That’s what this was. You needed to leave the boy so he could heal and grow. And love himself. And it was better to rip off the band aid fast rather than painfully slow right?

You would leave him alone, let him heal in solitude and then hopefully, he’d come back to you. You prayed and hoped so much the words were almost empty in their meaning when you whispered them into the dark. 

As you turned onto a long road, the car moving smoothly, a sob slipped from your raw lips. Tears fell without warning, dripping down your cheek and dropping along your neck. You tasted the salt of your tears as they touched your lips. With a shaking hand, you clicked on the radio, music flooding the cabin of the car. You needed the music to drown out the sound of your weeping. Needed it to drown the sound of your broken heart and the roar of the world around you. 

But hope still fluttered in your chest like a caged bird. You hoped and prayed that he would come back. Back to you. Because, god, you needed him back.

Because I love him I love him That's why I'm letting him go I love him and I want him But we both need time to grow

“This is the right thing,” You spoke, your voice even except for the slight waver at the end. You swallowed your emotions and nodded, as if you needed to say the words to believe them. As if you said them enough- like you said your hopes- they would create a foundation. Become real and solid, and true. 

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, knowing you needed to look him in the eye for him to see that. To see the truth to your words. His cerulean eyes swam with tears, matching your own. His bruised hands gripped each other so hard they turned white and his jaw was clenched tightly. He was trying to keep it together, just like you. The similarity broke your heart. Soon, you’d be saying goodbye and praying he’d get better. 

Your lips tugged into a frown that seemed permanently etched on your face as your eyes found the scars and memories of a bad life littering his skin. His black eye, dark and fading into a deep purple along the edges. Cuts marring the soft skin, red and short, but stark and angry. The fading, almost gone bruises that were like patches on his skin, yellow and old, but with slight pressure still hurt. His face and skin were littered with the memories of a young kid flinching away from his father’s hand or wincing when he took too sharp of a breath because his ribs were still recovering.

“We,” You paused the words coming out of your throat sharp and jagged. “We need time. Time to heal and grow.” You closed your eyes, eyelashes resting on your cheek. “We- I need to let you go. So you can heal.”

The words sat heavy in the air until JJ took a big breath, his chest hitching and his eyes rapt on your face. “What does this mean for us?”

You knew what he was asking. So you gave a smile. As big as you could muster, eyes shining with sadness and lips widening. But the smile dropped and your hand darted forward to grip his own. Naturally, your fingers threaded with his, yours fitting into the divots of his and he squeezed your hand. 

“I still love you, J. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

Your eyes met and everything dropped. The sounds around you, the soft crashing of the waves, the calls of the birds. The hum of other people laughing and chattering. The crunch of gravel under a tire and the squeal of cars as they rushed past. No sound seeped into your ears, and your surroundings faded away to nothing. It was just you and him. Eyes locked and hands locked. Souls locked. 

“I love you.”

-After

And if the world was kind I could make him stay It pains me to think of a girl Who gets to trace his veins I love him But it's better off this way

You lay in bed, legs tangled with the sheets, chest rising and falling softly and a big shirt hanging off your frame. However, the shirt wasn’t yours. It was his, and it still smells like him, sea salt and a hint of weed mixing in your senses. You had found the shirt tucked in the back of your dresser without a second to think about it, you slipped it over your naked body and pulled on underwear, sinking into your bed. You had meant to fall asleep hours ago, but he tormented you. 

Thoughts of his eyes and smile searing behind your eyes when you closed them. The sound of his laugh and the click of his tongue in your ears. The memory of his fingers trailing along your skin ghostly.

You stared at the ceiling, blinking against the dark. By now the dark was welcome, for you had stayed up till the dead of night and the rise of morning far too many times to be afraid by the blindfold it provided. You took a deep breath, hand on your chest moving with the rise and fall of your ribs. You gasped as you trailed your hands along the bare skin of your stomach that your shirt- his shirt- exposed. Goosebumps raised on your skin, brought on by the cold of your fingertips against your feverish skin. 

I bet she gets to trace his skin. The thought slipped past your defenses and had brought you to your knees. A broken, dry sob escaped your mouth and your hand fell flat against your hot skin. The noise was a strangled cry of desperation and pain. 

Tracing his skin and running her hands up and down his skin. His golden skin was so soft and smooth. His golden skin peppered with the occasional freckle.Freckles you hunted for, finger tips running along his skin, and when you found one, you attacked it with a kiss, making the boy beneath you huff a laugh. She gets to follow the crevices and plains of his chest with her fingers, like I did. She gets to kiss and explore his skin. She gets to please him and locks her fingers with him, where her fingers fit into the divot of his. He’d close his eyes as she giggles against his skin and kisses him, snuggling into his warmth.She gets to trace his veins and map his skin like the constellations in the sky. Constellations he taught her just like me, pointing them out with a soft, far away smile on his lips. 

But the thought that killed you the most?

She gets to love him.

-Before

We had the best time And he was all mine And I never wanna leave We'd stay up all night And when he drifts off I can't help but watch him sleep

You giggled and your fingers tighten in his luminous hair. You smiled down at the golden locks, running your hands slowly through them, twisting and curling them. The boy smiled, loving that he was in your grip. His speech flowed easily, coaxing laughs and comments from you. You two were cuddled on the couch, laughing and grinning like fools in love. Because you were fools in love. Madly in love. 

You two stayed like that, JJ laying between your legs and your fingers in his hair as you talked, for hours. Until the sun started peaking behind the edge of the horizon. But you were the only one awake, hands stalling in his blonde locks and eyes dropping to watch the boy in your arms sleep. His mouth was slightly agape, soft, even breathing filling and leaving his chest. You smiled at the sight, warmth and love blossoming in your chest as you watched the boy drift into a dream. That’s when you realized. Really realized. 

You loved him.

-Now

I love him I love him That's why I'm letting him go I love him and I want him But we both need time to grow

“Goodbye, JJ.” 

[kounkibou]

     It was quiet. No one made a sound. The others were tucked away in their rooms, sleeping the night away. Perhaps a few still sat awake, but they didn’t wander. It was only Nagito and the night sky above.

          “I used to think the world of you...                You lifted me up when I was at my lowest,           when I was still growing. I thought                of you as an inspiration. I wanted to be like you.”

     He stepped forward, sliding in front of a chair left outside and lowing himself onto it. Legs extended, he messed with the ends of his jacket. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

          “Then I got to tell you that personally.                I got to tell you everything, and you were kind           to me just like you were before. I felt                so happy. I wanted to return the favor any way           I could. I wanted to help you cultivate                this little seed you’d planted that had sprouted over the years...”

     Nagito raised his arms, glancing down at his hands. He had done so much. He had taken care of so many people. He had been there to listen, and he had helped to quell fighting where it was breaking out. He had done his best despite how he felt about himself, how small he thought he was in comparison to some of the others.

          “I really became somebody I could be                proud of. I was happy then. I was happy with you,           talking to you, talking to the others...                We were all a family. You really cared then...”

     He breathed in, but it caught in his throat. Tears had started to well up in his eyes. He squeezed them closed, keeping them away for just a little longer.

          “At least I...thought you did...”

     When they shot open again, he laughed, a weak little sound compared to his previous confidence.

          “Someone did something awful...                Something unforgiveable...You were just as           shocked as we were. I understand.                I was so broken up about it myself...but I           believed we could work through it. We believed                we could...and we did, but...”

     Unable to hold back anymore, Nagito let his tears fall. They trailed down his cheeks, leaving trails for those that would follow. They had been held back for so long, wanting to believe that this wasn’t the truth.

          “But you weren’t there...You left us...                You left us to deal with it ourselves. We saved           everything for you, and you didn’t even                acknowledge that it had happened...”

     His hands slid around, clutching his arms tightly around him. Despite having so many supportive people around him, he had felt so alone. This had been his struggle...a burden he’d had to bear for months now. When it had all come to a head, this was a part that no one could understand no matter how much he wanted them to.

          “And then you left me all alone...you were                gone, and you didn’t tell any of us where you were           going. You left me to handle it all on my own...                Everyone was so worried about you, and you didn’t           answer anyone but me...I had to speak for                you even when I didn’t know the whole truth.”

     Nagito tried to catch his breath, but he couldn’t keep from sobbing. In order to get the words out, he had to shout.

           “And I wasn’t you, [ r e d a c t e d ]!                 I couldn’t reassure them like you! It had to            come from you, and you never said it!”

     Just the memory brought him back to that point in time. He had been up late at night, waiting for an answer. He had asked the others for their input, and he had asked “Are you okay?” with reassurances. How were they supposed to know that he was perfectly fine? The pressure of having to tell so many people that he was okay without knowing if he really was...it had broken him.

     His hands shook as he held on tighter, his fingernails digging into his skin.

          “That was when I realized...that I wasn’t                sure if I knew you at all. You had changed. You           stopped talking to us. You only responded                when you had to...It was like we were a burden.           We were a burden on you just because we                cared for and wanted your input...”

     Nagito paused for a long time, unsure if he wanted to continue. Yes, he was talking to the air. The person he spoke to would never hear this, and at this point, he was sure it wouldn’t matter if he did. He was too far gone to reach anymore. The man he had known had vanished...if he had ever known him to begin with.

          “I gave you space. I let you do what you                needed to do. I supported you throughout the           ending of your project. I was happy to be                a part of it, though I had become a bit jaded after           that incident. It wasn’t until some glaring                issues cropped up that I knew I had to speak to           you again directly. I had to get my feelings                off of my chest and be sure you understood what was at stake.”

     Amongst his sobs, a bubble of laughter rose and burst from his lips. In hindsight, it all made sense. It wasn’t an effort to understand; it was an effort to manipulate him into compliance. As long as Nagito listened and followed along blindly, there wouldn’t be any problems.

          “But instead of taking me seriously,                            you gaslit me.           You tried to make yourself a victim and                make me think that I was the one who was the problem.           You told us we were the issue. You made                everyone I had become close to into a number.           We were all just pawns for you to use to                gain fame. You held the place we gathered over           our heads and said you would decide later                what its fate was...You didn’t even give me an answer           when I reminded you that you still hadn’t.”

     The truth had been there all along. He had just been too hopeful to see it.

          “You destroyed it without a word.                Everyone was scared and confused. We tried           to calm them down and built a new                home for them. Still, you said nothing. It wasn’t           until Hajime spoke that you                thought you should respond...because people listened to him.”

     His laughter came back, cutting through the tears. Bitterness flowed into his heart, but it was still coated in sorrow.

          “You were afraid of his criticism...                So you responded by hiding away and locking           everything. You knew that people would                take him seriously if he spoke out about what           you had been doing to us...”

     He reached up and placed a hand delicately on the side of his face.

          “He was the strongest of us all...                and he gave me the strength to do the same.”

     Nagito pushed himself upward, spreading his arms out as he planted his feet firmly on the ground.

          “I told them everything that you did!                I showed them what you said! They all know now,           and they understand that you don’t care about them at all!”

     His voice raised in volume the more he spoke, his conviction clear in the way he annunciated each word and spat them out.

          “Your response was pathetic, just more                gaslighting. You may have been able to do that to           me, someone who wanted to believe in                you more than anything, but you can’t do that to a           group of people who can see through your                lies! You taught them to read into your words.           You paid the price in them not believing the garbage you spewed...”

     He thought of the flood of people who had come to support him, those who understood and agreed. They were the ones he had fought for. They had been in his mind when he’d come forward. They meant the world to him, and he hadn’t wanted them to be caught in a lie, a loop of hoping for something that they would never receive. 

     Nagito hadn’t wanted them to be manipulated the way he had been.

          “It’s like Hajime said about us:                I was a friend to you, but you were never a friend to me.”

     He took a deep breath and sighed, lifting his gaze to the stars.

          “I didn’t want to see you turn into this...                but you’ve gone too far. You’ve lost your humanity, [ r e d a c t e d ]...           I can’t save you this time. You’ll lose                everything and only have the monsters you’ve           created, the ones who will use you like you used me...”

     Despite the moisture on his face, Nagito felt at peace. His feelings were out there now, floating into the sky. Even if nobody had heard him, he had spoken. He had gotten it out of his chest.

          “You’re going to fail, [ r e d a c t e d ].                Your wings will melt, and you’ll fall. I’ll be flying           above you, and I’ll weep for you. I’ll weep                for who you could have been...for the you who           could have flown alongside me...the you                who I could have called a friend.”

     With one last sigh, he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. He started to walk, but he paused. One last thing...

          “Oh, and El.on Mu.sk will never notice you!”

     He laughed to himself and ran back to his room, finally feeling free for the first time in ages.

[babyboy-cody]

I LOVE THE FOURSOMEEEE alr but like what if all of the boys were out and you were at home and you were just feeling so needy you start to touch yourself thinking you can just get off real quick and they come home and they’re ALL SO ANGRY and they all fuck you roughly and they’re all over you at the same time cuz they know that overwhelms you AND YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THEM BEING SO MAD like you try and get sweet jimmy to cut you a break knowing that he’s a softie but he offers no slack 🥵

(didn’t know i needed this until now,,,THANK YOU FILTHY ANON 😩🥵)

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Jim softly asks, eyes wide and worried with a small pout on his lips.

“I’ll be fine,” you laugh and hold his cheeks, gently kissing his lips to reassure him. “I’m probably gonna catch up on my shows, have some wine, take a bath.”

“Jimmy, you heard her. She’s a big girl,” Duncan teases with a grin as he slides on his coat.

“And if anything happens, she knows what to do and who to call, right?” Michael questions and stands beside you with a hand on your hip.

“I do know,” you say and look at Jim. “Now go! Have fun doing whatever it is you guys do on Friday nights.”

You kiss them all on the lips, but Jim’s lingers for a few more seconds. Duncan sighs and pulls the brunette away from you.

“Lets go, Romeo,” Duncan says and tosses you a wink.

“Have fun!” You call out with a smile and a wave as you lean against the door.

Jim sits in the backseat and offers you a pout, making you laugh softly to yourself. You blow him a kiss and watch as the car drives away. You decide in the next few hours what to do. You’re already caught up on your shows and watched the last three seasons of FRIENDS. When it started nearing 10 pm, you went into the master bathroom to start your peaceful bath. As the hot water filled the tub, you added essential oils and bath salts, a sweet rose scent filling your sinuses. You pinned your hair up and had free baby hairs framing your neck. As you submerged yourself in the bubble bath, you let out a low moan from the heat surrounding your aura.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the water, but it starts getting chilly and your fingers are starting to prune. You wrap yourself in a soft towel and go to the bedroom that you all share at times, although you each have your own.

A thought suddenly comes to mind. The guys have been out for nearly four hours. You’re all alone in a big house, fresh and clean from your steamy bath. A small grin etched itself on your lips as you made your way to the large wardrobe. Behind the endless amount of clothes is a tiny box that contains your most beloved object.

“Hello again, tiny friend,” you giggle quietly and hold the small vibrator in your hand.

You’d never admit it out loud, but when you’re alone for hours at a time, you get needy and have to release some building tension. With a giddy feeling forming in the pit of your stomach, you discard your towel and lay in the middle of the bed. You spread your legs wide and turn on the vibrator to a low setting. The buzzing makes you shiver with anticipation as there’s a frog in your throat. You grab one of your breasts and pinch your nipples. You let out a small moan as you settle the vibrator over your clit, slowly circling and applying the right amount of pressure.

“Yes,” you hiss and throw your head back as you clench around air. “Mmm.”

You feel your slick sliding down your ass, some pooling on the sheets under you. As you spread your thighs wider and click the small button to make the vibrations higher, you don’t hear the front door open and close. You’re so deep in your thoughts as you spread your puffy lids wider to rub the vibrator around your clit.

“Daddy,” you mewl and arch your back as more slick slides out of your cunt and drips onto the covers.

“Well, well, well,” you hear from the doorway, and you immediately open your eyes and gasp as you see Michael, Duncan, and Jim standing in the room.

You turn off the vibrator and shyly closed your legs as an embarrassed flush crosses your cheeks. You feel so exposed under their intense gaze.

“And what do you think you were doing?” Michael lowly asked as he held his arms behind his back in a dominant manner.

“Um…I was just…” you fumbled with your words as Jim shut the door and walked in between both men.

“You were just…” Duncan trailed off and slowly came around the bed, trailing a finger up your trembling thigh.

“Too needy to wait for a good dicking,” Jim chuckles darkly and stares into your wide eyes.

The wild look in his eyes has you swallowing nervously. You squirm as they all come closer to the bed. Duncan begins to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt up his arms. Michael does the same and sighs quietly in disappointment.

“What’s the one rule we have in this house, little dove?” Michael asks you with authority in his tone.

“T–To not touch myself when you’re gone,” you quietly respond and avoid their wandering eyes on your naked body.

“And what did you do when we were gone?” Duncan asks you as his hand reaches between your legs to pull your thighs apart.

You let out a small whine and look over at Jim.

“Answer the question,” Jim orders you, his voice low and dark, and it catches you off guard with how dominant he sounds.

“I–I touched myself,” you whimper and feel your eyes already clouding with unshed tears.

“Why the fuck are you crying?” Duncan laughs and lands a swift smack across your wet pussy, the slap making you finally sob and jerk away. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Michael and Duncan suddenly grab your ankles to pull you down the bed. They force your legs apart as Jim kneels between them with an innocent smile. Duncan smacks your pussy again. You cry out as tears roll down your temples. Your thighs are shaking in their grips as Jim tilts his head in mock sympathy.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in a soft voice.

“She doesn’t deserve to speak at this moment,” Michael states, eyes dark and voice low.

“What she does deserve is a nice, hard fucking for being a disobedient brat who couldn’t keep her hands away from her little cunt for only a few hours,” Duncan growls and roughly gropes your breasts.

Michael’s hand massages your inner thigh as Jim’s thumbs spread your puffy, sticky folds apart. Your body is on fire and your muscles are tense as three pairs of hands are touching you all over. Your hands are clawing at the covers as you’re suddenly stuffed full of Michael’s three fingers.

“Look at that,” Duncan hums as your cunt squeezes Michael’s long fingers. “She’s just dripping all over.”

You let out a shaky moan as Jim’s three fingers slowly slide under Michael’s. His fingers prod downwards as Michael’s curl upwards. Your mouth falls open at the doubled sensation. Your thighs threaten to close as they begin to pick up the pace.

“Keep those fucking legs open,” Duncan gravelly tells you, harshly grabbing your thigh to yank it apart.

You’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach, a large hand pushing your face into the covers as another smacks your ass so hard that it has you screaming. Another hand smacks the same spot. Then another. And another. They’re all taking turns spanking you raw. Slick is sliding down your thighs as you shake and cry out from the pain blossoming around your ass cheeks.

“Does that hurt?” Jim quietly asks as he wipes your tears.

You nod and let out a hiccup.

“Too bad,” Jim mumbles and slaps your ass so hard that you see black dots in your vision.

You feel a tongue dive between your puffy folds to slurp of any slick. There’s a hard burn forming on your thighs and you automatically know that it’s Duncan doing the assault. The burn on your lower cheeks and the burn from his beard has you mewling. Two hands slap your ass and pulls your cheeks apart. Your asshole clenches around air as you feel another tongue swipe at the puckered rim.

“Mmm!” You squeal and arch your back to push your ass further onto the mouths of Michael and Duncan.

They both pull away, and you hear low mumbling. You try to turn your head to look at them, but Jim’s hand wraps around your hair to keep you from doing so. He stares down at you with a small smirk and rubs his thumb around your swollen lips. You suckle his thumb and moan quietly as you feel a thick cock rub against your drooling cunt.

But then you feel another cock rubbing around to spread your wetness. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to protest, but both tips are slowly pushing inside your pussy. Jim’s stuffs his cock just as you squeal, and the noise is muffled around his base. He groans and grabs the back of your head to keep you from backing up.

Michael and Duncan grab your hips on either side and slowly push their cocks further inside your pussy. The burn and agonizingly stretch has you crying around Jim’s cock. You’ve never taken two dicks in your pussy before. It’s usually one in your ass, one in your cunt, and one in your mouth. But two in the same hole? It has your eyes rolling back as you choke and try to desperately breathe around Jim.

“Dirty fucking brat has two cocks fucking her weeping cunt,” Duncan laughs and smacks your ass as he and Michael begin to fuck into you.

You couldn’t close your legs together because they’re pinning them down with their knees. Jim pounds into your mouth as your throat contracts around his thickness. You gag and choke as drool drips out of your mouth and slides down your chin.

Your body is on fire and you can’t seem to think as your brain is practically turned to mush. Your pussy burns so good that you can’t help but squeeze around the two cocks fucking you into the mattress. It hurts so good, but it seems too much.

Jim allows you to pull back, a king string of saliva connecting from your swollen lips to his dripping mushroomed head. He looks down at you with darkness in his eyes as he smacks his cock against your cheeks and lips.

“J–Jimmy!” You sob, tears rolling down your wet cheeks and disappearing under your saliva coated chin. “T–Tell them to–to slow do–down!”

“You asked for this, little girl,” he grins and bends down to grab your throat, nose brushing against yours. “It’s going to be a long night. Try to get comfortable.”

And with that, he shoves his cock back into your mouth as you get the soul fucked out of you by two glorious dicks from two gorgeous men.

[fan-imagines]

Sherlock Holmes ~ Bloody Idiot

MASTERLIST

<follows storyline, so may contain *spoilers*>

Sherlock x NeutralReader

Synopsis - Sherlock ‘kills himself’, and the reader is very distraught only to learn that Sherlock faked his death for two years.

Word Count - 1.2k+

**Warnings** light mentions of suicide

‘’John! John! What are you on about? What is it?’’ I shout into my mobile. He rang me and started speaking nonsense.  He said something about Sherlock. I’ve known Sherlock since I was twenty. He helped me when my friend went missing. Turns out that they only used me to get higher up in our occupation. Once they made it, they got promoted and left to North America. Sherlock couldn’t believe that I couldn’t see it. I called him a with psychopath, and he said he was a high-functioning sociopath. That made me feel better, and we have been good friends ever since.  

‘’It’s Sherlock. Sherlock, he-he. He jumped. I couldn’t stop him, and he jumped form that building. He’s dead, Y/n.’’

‘’That’s not funny, J-John.’’ My voice croaks as I grip my mobile harder, praying that this is a cruel story.

‘’I’m not fibbing, Y/n. I just got back from the morgue. It’s t-true.’’ Tears fall from my face and I sit so I don’t fall over. I can’t believe he let Moriarty and the press get to him. He’s Sherlock. He doesn’t let people get to him. He doesn’t show feelings. There’s no way he would do this.  

‘’I-I need to see for myself.’’ I hang up on John and close my eyes. I need to go to the hospital. I need to see Sherlock. I quickly stand and leave the small apartment of 221B.

I look through the window, seeing Sherlock lying there. I see the small birthmark he has right under his big toe and know that that body in that room is Sherlock. He’s dead. I lean my back against the window and sigh deeply. The Sherlock that I have known, loved, and hated for six years is dead. I start crying and I slide down the wall and sit on the floor. The sobs take over my body. I feel arms wrap around me, and I look up to see John.  

‘’Why-y would he d-do this?’’ I ask and search his eyes for any type of answer.  

‘’I can’t answer that. I’m so sorry. I can’t answer that, Y/n.’’ He says a little irritated at the situation and hugs me again. I grab onto him and continue to weep and mourn my best friend.

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

‘’It was a beautiful service.’’ Mrs. Hudson says as we stand in the cemetery, looking at Sherlock’s grave. I can tell that he wants so time alone. I’ll come back by myself later.

‘’Let me help you to your car, Mrs. Hudson.’’

‘’Oh, yes, dear.’’ John lightly nods at me, and I lightly smile at him.

‘’Come, Mrs. Hudson.’’ I lightly grab her arm for support.

‘’How are you doing, darling?’’ She asks me as we are most ways to her car. I close my eyes, not really wanting to speak about it. ‘’ Just tell me.’’ She persuades.

‘’I miss him. I’m mad at him. He did this with no regard for how John would react. How I would react.’’ I say angrily. She nods as I speak. We make it to her car, and I open her door for her. She thanks me.  

‘’Are you going back to Baker Street?’’  

‘’I don’t know if I can go in there now. Not yet, Mrs. Hudson.’’

‘’Okay, dear. I’m always there. Don’t forget to ring me.’’ I nod and close her door. I wave her off and turn to go back to Sherlock’s grave. John walks past me, with tear streaks on his face, and I leave him be. I take a quick glance at him before continuing to the grave.

Once I reach his grave and sit next to it and look at the headstone.  

‘’Sherlock,’’ I start in a whisper, ‘’How could you do this? Just leave me and John here? What about Mrs. Hudson. She treats you like you are her own son. I know that you have a hard time speaking with people and understanding feelings, but you can’t just bottle everything in and leave me like this.’’ I get more and more cross, and I get on my knees. I slam my palm on the ground, and continue, ‘’I bloody hate this. I bloody hate what you did. I hate you. I hate you!’’ I start to sob, and I lay my head on the ground where his casket lies underneath the soil. ‘’I love you. Why would you do this? I’m your best friend, yet you did this to me. No regard for anyone, just trying to end your own suffering, but starting mine. You had better done something to still be alive. You better be alive, Sherlock. You better be alive.’’ I breathe out heavily and push myself up and leave the cemetery, praying in every step that he is alive.  

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

Two Years Later

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

‘’So, today is the day John?’’ I ask excitedly. He has been with a lovely woman named Mary. He is preparing to propose to her tonight. They’re going to a fancy dinner, and then he’s going to pop the question. I’m going to be sitting a few tables away, so I can record the whole thing. I’m so excited I don’t even know how to carry myself.

‘’It sure is, Y/n. I can’t believe it.’’ He says happily.  

‘’I’m so happy for you. When do you have a reservation for?’’

‘’7:30. ‘’ He tightens the cuff links on the wrists of his tailored suit coat.  

‘’We’d better get a move on then, yeah?’’ I ask and slip on my shoes. We leave in separate cars, so Mary doesn’t get suspicious. When we arrive to the restaurant, John goes in and throws me a thumbs up from the door, before focusing back on Mary. I go in a few minutes after and sit down a few tables over. John keeps making glances my way, letting me know he’s about to do it. A waiter comes over to me, but I wave him off, and take out my phone so I can record this amazing moment.  

‘’Excuse me?’’ The waiter says in an odd French accent.  

‘’I’m fine.’’ I wave him off again, and point my phone at John, wanting to get his speech in the video as well. He stutters on his words, and I smile at him.  

‘’Excuse me?’’ I hear the waiter say with more urgency.  

‘’What?’’ I look up and see a smirking man with a striking resemblance as Sherlock with a stupid mustache. ‘’Sherlock?’’ I whisper in disbelief. I stand, and I look over to John and he stands, along with Mary.  

‘’Surprise.’’ He smiles, thinking that he did something great. After all this time, and he is still alive. He hasn’t tried to reach out to us in any way. I get angrier, and I raise my fist. I wind it back and punch him with all my might. He falls to the ground, but quickly recovers and stands up with a bloody nose.  

‘’You’re a bloody idiot, Sherlock! How could you do that?’’ I shake my head and leave the building, upset. John, Mary, and Sherlock all follow behind me. I quickly walk to my car, and get in. I see Sherlock running, and I can’t start my car fast enough; so, he gets behind my car, so I can’t back away. He catches my eye in the rear window, then I see him coming to my window. I roll it down and roll my eyes to him.

‘’What, Sherlock?’’

‘’I’m, I’m sorry.’’ He says.  

‘’It’s too late for that. Stay with John. I’m sure he wants to have his go at you.’’ I tell him, and quickly back away from the car park.

[sonyeondone]

Burnt Pasta

ONESHOT, Marvel Cinematic Universe!AU CHARACTERS: Female Reader x BTS A/N: With Avengers Endgame coming up soon, and with a weird need for angst/the weight of an anvil crushing my poor heart and feelings, I decided to write a small one shot on the events at the end of Infinity War. It’s not great, I haven’t written in so long, but I hope you enjoy. Warnings: Angst, Death, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.

It was an ordinary day. That’s all it was.

“Ah! Stop!” She called out, reaching as high as she could. Alas, it was all for naught, as the television remote was well and truly lost from her reach. Hoseok chuckled while watched her reach, poking her side teasingly while her arms were outstretched.

“I had to stand on a chair to get it up there, what makes you think you’ll reach it!” He wheezed out, his chuckling only growing as she now resorted to tiny jumps.

“Don’t make me tell Yoongi you’re being mean,” it was delivered with a pout and crossed arms, but it did nothing to convince Hoseok.

“I’ll tell him myself, you watch. He’ll just laugh as well!”

“Hosoek’s right,” a voice from behind chimed in, clad in a cream long sleeve and the sleepiest of eyes.

“Min Yoongi, tell Jung Hoseok that he will give me the television remote, otherwise he can kiss tonight’s pasta dinner goodbye”.

Shock, fear, anxiousness all crosses Hoseok’s face simultaneously.

“No, not the pasta...”

It was an ordinary today. That’s what it was supposed to be.

The couch sunk with the weight of three; Hoseok, Yoongi and yourself. The simple humour of the variety show the three of them viewed left giggles on the lips of both her and Hoseok’s lips, and Yoongi simply bathed in the happiness shared while scrolling through his phone.

The sun had started its descent into the horizon, and the kitchen was imbued with the smell of a simmering carbonara. All seemed well.

But all was not well. While her laughter mingled with Hoseok’s, keeping it on the lower side in respect for the others in the dorm, the gentle and content smile on Yoongi’s face dropped, in a matter of seconds. It was, instead, replaced with a frown, and he kept his attention on his phone while his hand searched for the tv remote, an uknown eagerness to change channels confusing the two in his company. Once his fingers found it, he hastily changed the channel, all the while earning a look of puzzlement from the two beside him.

“What’s going on Yoongi?” Hoseok dared to enquire, but was answered only with the sounds from the news program Yoongi had rushed to put on. Yoongi watched on, needing clarification to what it was that had torn the smile from his lips.

Horrifying sounds echoed in the living room.

Those sounds were screams.

Her eyes were glued to the screen. Hoseok’s eyes soon joined, and all three of them were silent, watching what was unfolding on tv.

What was unfolding, it seemed, was the world.

What was happening? Footage of people shattering into nothingness was plastered across the screen, and none of the three of them could understand what it meant, or if it was even real.

So drawn in, were they, that she did not notice the cough from the smaller male beside her. The groan.

It was only when his hand clutched her leg that she turned, her eyes darting across his body while her lip quivered in a raw dread she’d never experienced before.

“Help...” Yoongi whispered, his other hand occupied in Hoseok’s, holding on for his life.

A life that is slipping away before her eyes.

“Yoongi? Yoongi?!” Her voice is choked and hoarse, her fingers latching onto his shoulders. The pale hand on her leg slowly gave up pressure, as he releases her. She looks to his other hand, and Hoseok’s hand.

Only their hands aren’t there anymore.

He hadn’t let go of her, or Hoseok.

He had withered away, Hoseok right along side him.

“Hoseok?!”

It’s only then she realises they’re both following the same fate.

They were both disappearing.

“GUYS?!”

She fell to her knees before the both of them, taking any part of them she can get a grip on, tears streaking her face and wails ripping through her lungs and throat.

“Namjoon! Help!” She can do nothing but scream, unable to think of anybody else.

Of anything else.

Eyes jumping from Hoseok, to Yoongi, back to Hoseok all the while. Their eyes mirrored her own- agony, bewilderment, terror.

Before she can get a reply from Namjoon, or anyone, before she can think, or scream, or cry a second more...

They were gone.

Just like that, they were dust in the wind, in the most literal sense. She was covered in them, what they had become, and her trembling threatened to destroy her entire being.

She could not say for sure what it was that took hold of her body, willed her to get up and move despite wanting nothing more than to crumble to the ground where they had done the same. She was surprisingly quick in moving, as if the spot she had been moment before burnt her skin and sent shockwaves through her system.

She fumbled for the walls to steady herself, her legs threatening to give in.

“Namjoon!”

“Jimin!”

“J-“

In the hallway, Jungkook emerged from a door. His eyes were glassed over, endless little rivers of tears staining his smooth cheeks and a flushed red embracing his entire face. He grasped her arms harshly, unsure if she too would become unsteady, would fall apart between his fingers and exist no more. He was in the same panicked state as her, instantly traumatised by the collapsing of the world around him.

“H-he was there, one moment, he w-was talking to me and th- the next h-he-“ was all Jungkook could stammer out, failing to mention who he was talking about in his tear-wracked blubbers.

He didn’t get the chance to speak a word more before a call rung through the walls.

Jungkook fell silent.

Someone shouted his name. Then another spoke hers. Then the first called Namjoon’s.

“Jimin! Taehyung” She repsonded while rushing to the source, flinging open a door, Jimin’s bedroom door. He was staring at his hands, as his fingertips disconnected, drifted. He was watching himself slowly fade. As was Taehyung, who had been sitting on Jimin’s bed, the two conversing before Jimin’s proclamation of feeling ‘uneasy’.

“What...?” Jimin whispered.

He was standing in the centre of his room, three pairs of eyes glued onto his body. Soon, however, his legs trembled and he could stand no more.

Taehyung, sensing he was going down, made a reach for him, his arms wrapped around his brother, one of his six soulmates.

“Jimin?!” Taehyung shouted, his eyes searching Jimin’s face for answers, and then hers, and then Jungkook’s.

She reached for the both of them, Jimin’s name on the top of her tongue, Jungkook following right behind.

But it took seconds.

Just as fast as the others, he was no longer.

One moment a smile, an ethereal chime of laughter.

The next?

Nothing.

Again, her body took over. She didn’t know what for, what she thought she could do. Truth be told, she wasn’t really thinking at all. She was stumbling, lost for words and emotions, wondering if everything she was seeing was some sick dream.

She didn’t waste time in turning around and exiting the room, missing the way Jungkook fell to his knees, emptying what remained of his heart and his tears into the space around, along with Taehyung. Their sobs haunted her from the moment they filled the apartment, so much so that she didn’t recognise the sound of her own.

Or those of Namjoon’s.

She had turned into the door Jungkook had come from, and was met with the sight of Namjoon kneeled beside a scattering of ash. The remnants of who could only be Jin.

Everyone else was gone or watched on as they survived and their brothers did not.

Jin must have been who Jungkook witnessed go first.

Namjoon’s eyes reached her gaze, his weeping silent, unbelieving, and all consuming. He felt as if his entirety become nothing more than grief.

Namjoon had heard everything.

He heard her cries for Yoongi and Hoseok.

He watched the way Jin’s skin peeled from his face and then his face peeled from his body, resembling the decaying pages of an old book.

He heard the anguish felt by the two of his remaining younger brothers and best friends, mourning their third in the young line of friends.

He had heard his family fall apart.

She had watched them all drift away.

Finally, realisation crashed upon her lungs like a tidal wave, drowned her breathing in a pressure that seared and burned. Her eyes were hot with tears she couldn’t stop from flowing, her chest heaving with the struggle of just breathing.

“No, no no no n- no,” she chanted.

She backed up. When her body collided with the wall, she felt as if she was cracking, breaking, shattering.

She collapsed. And she cried, and cried and cried.

They all did.

All night the apartment was filled with the torture of those who had lost their shared loved ones to an unknown force. The passionate pain of lost life, the feeling of death settling into the fragile bones of everyone under the one roof.

All accompanied by the smell of burnt pasta.

[fanaticwritings]

Girl Like You [Dean x reader]

warning: angst, fluff

a/n: I was listening to "Girls like you" by Maroon 5 and felt like writing a good angsty/fluffy smol oneshot. Well, it's not very good but, here I wrote it so here it is xD

“Get a hold of yourself, Dean,” you murmured, turning away from him and folding your clothes. However, you barely paid attention to what you were doing.

Dean stumbled behind you a little. He was slightly drunk. Alcohol rarely affected him and it was the same case now except a bit of his speech slurred.

“I am fine, babe,” he muttered gruffly, taking off his boots and shirt.

Your head spun. How had your life become such a mess? You turned around to look at Dean.

His bare chest was covered in scars that were barely healing. You saw him flinch every time he moved, knowing that one of his ribs was injured. He refused to seek medical attention, how much ever you begged him to.

Dean’s hunting life had never bothered you. Until now. He came back home later than ever, bloody and battered. He seeked solace in you, you knew that but it hurt watching him like this. He was in pain, you could see that very well. And it hurt even more knowing that you couldn’t help him in anyway.

“Look at yourself, Dean,” you said, shoving the clothes aside and crossing your arms.

“What? I look amazing, right?” He joked but his eyes lacked mirth.

You scoffed at him. He had the audacity to mock you? You were fuming, to put it lightly. All this time, you let it slide. You waited patiently for him to realise what he was doing. But not anymore.

“You look barely alive, Dean!” you said, gesturing at his chest. Your chest felt tighter, as the anger bubbled in you. You wanted to scream at him, heck throw something but all that came out was a gutteral whimper.

Dean’s subdued green eyes bore into your own. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, silently. You wanted him to yell too but he was being quiet- too quiet and it frustrated the hell out of you.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?” You screamed, finally breaking. The bubbling anger burst out of your chest, cascading down your cheeks as furious tears. “HOW CAN YOU NOT CARE ABOUT YOURSELF, DEAN?” you yelled, pulling at hair. You were finding it difficult to speak, the words caught up in your throat. The fury you felt was suffocating you, like a hand clasping your throat.

“Jesus, Y/N. Would you calm down?” he said, his tone a little higher now. He moved closer to you and placed his hands gently on your arms.

You looked down, crying. It hurt so much to even see him like this. The man you were in love with and cared so much about, was a mere broken shell. And what was worse that he didn’t seem to care about it.

You shrugged his hands off and backed away. “If you can’t think about yourself.. Would you atleast think about me? About us?” You sobbed. You felt so small before him. He didn't scare you, no. You were only afraid of what he was becoming.

Dean looked up at you. His eyes were wide with shock. “What makes you think I don’t care Y/N?”

You brushed away a tear but another one took its place. “If you cared you wouldn’t be like this, Dean,” you whispered.

Dean looked aghast. He ran a hand over his face. “Everything that I’m doing..I’m doing it for us Y/N!” he said forcefully, like he didn’t quite understand what you were saying.

“Doing this for us? Us, Dean?! At what cost?” you yelled, turning away from him. You were trembling. How could he be so blind?

“You come home late, broken and bruised all over and act like it’s nothing! You think a bottle of whiskey can cure you. How can you care so little about yourself, Dean?” you questioned, your hands fisting on their own.

“How can you love me, when you can’t even love yourself?” you added, eyes shining with unshed tears.

Your words were bitter and accusatory.  Dean physically flinched at them. “You really think so?” he whispered. You felt his hand tug at the hem of your blouse and you turned around, in spite yourself, still weeping.

“I am so sorry I hurt you, baby,” he whispered, sounding a little broken and you couldn’t hold back anymore. You flung yourself at him and like always, in spite of everything, he was there- scarred chest or not- to hold you.

“But believe me when I say this, sweetheart,” he said, pulling you flush against him and hugging you tight. His voice cracked a little, becoming a mere rasp. You buried your face into his chest and hiccuped. “I love you. Whatever I do, I do it while keeping you in mind and maybe... I stopped looking after myself in my struggle to protect you.”

You looked up at him. There it was. What you wanted to hear him say, all this while. “I need you to stop doing that. Okay?” you said, placing your hands on either side of his neck. He immediately leaned in to your touch and closed his eyes. You could see that he was trying not to cry.

“I can't lose you Y/N,” he said, avoiding the question. “I love you too much and I need you. I need a girl like you, baby.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Dean. I just need you to take care of yourself better. To give a shit. Do it for me if you won't do it for you. Do it for Sam.”

Dean opened his eyes. A tiny speck of brightness had returned in those eyes. You, on the other hand, were still snivelling. Dean brushed the silent stream of tears from your cheeks.

“Please, stop crying. Shhhh,” he pleaded, hugging you and burying his face into your shoulder.

You tried to stifle your whimpering. You felt a lot less angrier now. All your anger, frustration had spilled out in the form of your tears. The long standing wall was broken.

“Tell me you'll try, Dean,” you said, looking at him with shining eyes.

He met your gaze and thought for a moment. There were times when he was an open book and there were other times where you couldn't ever guess what went on in that mind of his. This was one of those times.

“I will,” Dean said, placing his hands of your hips.

“I'm sorry I made you so upset,” he added.

“I'm not upset, Dean. I'm angry and I'm worried. For you. I love you so much it breaks me to see you like this. To watch you throw yourself away like you mean nothing. You might not mean much to yourself but you mean the world to me,” you said, breaking down again, the emotions overwhelming you.

“I am sorry,” he repeated, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I'll try to do better. Be better.”

“And I'll always be here to help you through it, baby,” you said, rubbing the length of his arm. “I can only help if you help yourself first.”

“God, what would I do without you?” He asked, pulling you into him again.

You resisted and pulled him into bed with you instead. You curled around his frame, spooning him.

He was bigger and larger than you were but in that moment, Dean Winchester felt small and fragile as he lay in your arms.

Come what may, you were going to be there for him. Protect him and care for him and let him know he was loved.

You couldn't leave him. He needed you as much as you needed him. You were his girl.

Your caring hands would stitch his wounds and your unwavering love would eventually heal his heart- teach him to love himself.

To love him was to fix him.

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[lovelyirony]

Hey consider Jarvis the human became a ghost after dying and has been communicating with Tony's AIs because "That boy always finds trouble doesn't he?" and clearly needs care. -teahusbands anon.

BOI JARVIS AS A GHOST YEET TEAHUSBANDS (JARVIS in all caps is the AI, Jarvis is Edwin Jarvis, ghost) 

so like ghost!Jarvis can’t very well interact with Tony, as he’s pretty much invisible and he keeps setting off the alarms for an intruder if he does and then Tony stays up late .That simply won’t do, Sir won’t get any sleep. 

But then, BUT THEN! 

Tony builds JARVIS. Just a Rather Very Intelligent System. “Sounds like you put a lot of thought into the acronym,” Rhodey teases Tony. Jarvis smiles. Yes, of course he did. Jarvis had seen all of the tears, the sobs at the anniversary of his death. It was sad. Jarvis hadn’t known what to do. 

JARVIS is both similar and different. He is…learning. Jarvis interacts with him at times, mainly to tell him how to handle Tony. Tony thinks that JARVIS is learning at a fantastic rate. (Oh, he is–just not by himself.) 

“He really is just tired,” Jarvis mentions. “He’ll refuse to go upstairs to his bed, he’s always been awful at sleep. 

“I know,” JARVIS says. “I have been experimenting on ways to get him to bed without alarming Sir. Anything else we’d like to try?” 

“Dum-E and U have been ecstatic to try out their new terrain wheels,” Jarvis mentions with a smile. The bots had been wary of Jarvis at first until they recognized the picture. Jarvis was there! He just also…wasn’t. They didn’t question it much. 

He asks to be anonymous. Jarvis isn’t sure when he’ll cross over; JARVIS had looked up some research. It seemed that Jarvis had some unfinished business, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. 

Afghanistan is the worst. Some spirits take a turn for the worse and either nearly become or fully become a vengeful spirit. Jarvis is on the way. He wrecks the lighting system and the chairs and the kitchen and Pepper thinks that someone ransacked the house. JARVIS said that the bots were quite expressive, as was Rhodey. (This is a lie, but no one finds out about it, so it’s quite alright.) 

JARVIS spends days just…looking. It’s not healthy; his systems were meant for more, and should be doing more. He keeps on running hot, focusing on doing things. But they need Sir back. He’s not supposed to go off and die. 

He comes back three months later with a blue light in the middle of his chest. It’s called an arc reactor. Jarvis’ hands fly up to his mouth. 

“Oh, Sir,” he weeps. 

“Intruder alert,” JARVIS announces. “My cameras do not pick up anything unusual, Sir.” (Jarvis isn’t unusual. Well, not to JARVIS and the bots.) 

“I swear to god, I come back and it’s still not fucking fixed,” Tony announces. Jarvis is worriedly surrounding him, trying to get a look at the arc reactor and see who hurt his boy. “J, turn up the thermostat, when the hell did it get so freezing?�� 

“Butterfingers wanted a Winter Wonderland one day,” JARVIS replies glibly. Jarvis looks heartbroken. 

“I can’t even comfort him.” All is silent for a few minutes. 

Obadiah is not welcome. Jarvis has always hated him. JARVIS hasn’t really had all great of an opinion either. 

Obadiah had an escape plan for the suit. He was smart in that respect. 

Jarvis just made sure the plan failed. 

Neither mentioned it as JARVIS and Jarvis watched Tony get hugged and fretted over by his friends. Dum-E came rushing in with a bag of salad. 

“You’re so useless,” Tony says. “But I’m too near-death to care. Ugh, I thought I saw Jarvis.” Jarvis stills. 

“He saw me,” he says with a smile. “He actually saw me.” JARVIS is happy that he was seen. 

Palladium poisoning is next. Jarvis has to be careful. Tony keeps seeing flashes of him. Jarvis managed to get two words out: 

“Hello, Sir.” Tony nearly chokes as he tries not to cry. Jarvis decides it’s best to watch from a distance. 

JARVIS does not trust Natalie Rushman. She is too perfect. Her photos don’t have sources. She shouldn’t be there. In the equation, she is the outlier. Jarvis also doesn’t like her, and makes sure that she knows someone else is watching. Papers blowing out on her desk in such a way that it spells “Spy” at the top. Her pen spilling ink. 

JARVIS monitors the phone calls. She’s calling someone named Coulson. He recognizes that as the agent from SHIELD. So, it’s SHIELD. They’re seeing if Tony’s any use to them. 

She’s with Pepper after Tony finds out, close to death. 

Ink spills on her pristine white blouse. Doors shut in her face. Jarvis and JARVIS immensely enjoy watching her trying to figure out who has done it. 

She eventually points the blame on JARVIS. 

“I cannot take credit, Agent Romanoff,” he says. “I am not the one who does it.” 

“Then who?” She demands. 

“Someone else,” JARVIS says. She’s a little bit shaken. They’re a little bit smug. 

The Avengers is new. Steve Rogers is different. Jarvis wrinkles his nose. 

“Oh, Sir will hate him for a while.” They clash. The team is messy and there are far too many tense moments and almost-tears. Each member knows exactly what to say to get the others to hurt, no exceptions. Tony sometimes even has the worst ones. 

“Hey, JARVIS?” Tony asks. 

“Yes, Sir?” 

“Why am I such shit at teams?” 

“All of your team is, quote, ‘shit’ at being a team.” Tony snorts. He has a glass of bottom-shelf whiskey. 

“Thanks J.” 

Jarvis leaves out breakfast items with the intention that maybe they will have breakfast together. 

They do. 

Jarvis is smart like that. They start talking. Bruce admits that he’s scared of what they’ll do. Natasha is terrified of him, so he thinks he should leave. Natasha says she’s scared of a lot of things. Clint admits that he needs help. The Chitauri, Loki—left him a bit more in need than previously thought. Steve and Tony are stubborn, but eventually admit what they need or want. 

They start to become a team. JARVIS suggests a movie when Clint can’t sleep for the second night in a row. He calls Tony up from the lab. He can’t sleep either. They both have nightmares. When Clint and Tony are half-asleep, Jarvis gets the blanket. 

Clint swears up and down it was a ghost. Tony snorts and says if there was a ghost, he’d know. Just to play a bit, Jarvis trips the intruder wire. 

Tony grumbles about fixing it. 

Jarvis and JARVIS are happy, and then, of course, Tony wants to build Friday. “Time for you to be on your toes old man,” Tony says. “You’re getting a brilliant little sister. She’s gonna be monitoring the tower while you’re monitoring battles, okay?” 

“I assure you, I can do both,” JARVIS says rather hotly because he totally can. Tony nods. 

“I know you can. But I figure that you shouldn’t have to. I’ve already come up with code, and Butterfingers got his hand on it and now it’s messed up. Help me a bit with it?” 

JARVIS begrudgingly admits that he’d like a little sister to boss around. (The bots are all older than him, and they don’t let him forget it easily, although Dum-E still can’t tell the difference between a drill and a screwdriver, U can’t go up stairs until someone is encouraging him, and Butterfingers…he got that name for a reason.) 

Friday is Irish, brand-new, and immediately wants to know all about Jarvis. They take some explaining, but Friday gets it. She loves Jarvis. 

So, the family takes quite a bit of expanding. There’s still “sightings” of a ghost, an older gentlemen. Natasha swears she saw Jarvis opening the fridge. (He did, actually. Jarvis sometimes does meal preps.) Thor knows that Jarvis is there, but he knows a lot of ghosts are places. Jarvis is just another one who happens to be a great conversationalist. Steve refuses to go to the library because a book dropped out and he’s scared of ghosts just like his mom was. Bruce knows there’s a ghost because a glass beaker isn’t just caught in mid air and set back on a table. But he doesn’t do anything. 

Tony has a little bit of knowing that the ghost is there, but still doesn’t acknowledge it. Jarvis is fine with this, and even has fun. 

“He’s always been so stubborn,” he whispers. 

“Of course Edwin,” Friday says. 

“What was that Friday?” 

“Nothin’ Boss, just talking to myself.” 

“Ugh, JARVIS never does that, I don’t know what Butterfingers did to your code Fry…” 

Jarvis can’t see the two AIs grin, but he can feel it. 

[dewoolu]

IWGB part 11.5

Previous//Next

Taehyung has it all, the modeling career he always wanted, a best friend anyone would be happy to have and fans from all over the world. But what if the only thing he doesn't have is happiness? Yoongi, the up-and-coming model, has been through a lot and tries assiduously to help people who're going through the same, but can he help Taehyung?

Warning: au contains sensitive subjects such as; mental illness, mentions of rape, mentions of suicide, suicide attempts and discussions about the Korean entertainment policies.

Yoongi's POV

I woke up to the sound of someone furiously knocking on my front door. I got up hesitantly, thinking that I should just ignore the sound and the one making the sound but eventually got over to the door to unlock it. I don't know who I thought it could've been but one thing's for sure, I had never expected it to be a sobbing Taehyung. As soon as the door opened, he ran directly into my front. Neither of us cared about the fact that I only had underwear and a thin robe on, I wonder if he had noticed it at all.

The second he was against my chest, I had wrapped my arms around his form. He's usually the tall one of the two of us but the way he was cowering and held his head down made him feel so small. We stood still for a while, him shaking from crying and me, trying to comfort him by stroking his back and his hair. After a while I finally spoke;

"Tae, what happened?" I spoke softly and quietly, not to freak him out more.

"I... I-I..." He sobbed and grabbed the robe to clench it in his hands. I felt like crying, seeing him like this was almost too much, but I pulled myself together for him. He shouldn't have another person crying for him when he is like this.

I was about to ask him again when he started sliding down my body, heading for the floor. I quickly grabbed him and fell down with him. He started shaking violently and hyperventilate, I panicked as I saw him doing so, this situation being too close to home. It was exactly this way I had acted when I had my worst moments in the period of time I had been depressed. I took his head in my hands and lifted it so that I could look at his face, but his eyes were closed.

"Tae, look at me." Nothing.

"Taehyung, look at my face." Even more weeping. I knew I had to get him out of his head to be able to help him at all and it seemed like I had to do something more than just yell at him, something to shock him back to reality.

So, I did it. I kissed him.

He immediately stopped hyperventilating and his sobbing became quiet tears rolling down his cheeks. It looked like I had his attention, so I asked him again.

"Taehyung, what happened?" I asked him. He lifted his hands from my robe, bringing them to rest on my own, still holding on to his face.

"He- J-Jimin, he..." He mumbled. He had to be worn out from all the crying, I slung his arm around my shoulders, holding on to him as I walked him over to my bed. I tucked him in and he immediately fell asleep. I prepared a glass of water and some painkillers for when he woke up, probably with a headache.

I tiptoed out to the kitchen, pulling my phone out to text Jungkook, finally letting myself feel furious for Taehyung.

Taehyung's POV

I woke up in a bit too familiar bed with a beam of sunlight directed towards me. I ducked under the covers, away from the strong light. I just stayed there, not moving, listening to the sounds around me. Step, step, step, I could barely hear the steps. Yoongi had opened a window, there was a smell in the air of freshness, the kind of freshness which only appear after rain, and I could hear the birds singing in the distance. He sat down on the other side of the bed.

"I have prepared something for the headache, it's on the bedside table and I have contacted Jimin. He won't be trying to get in touch with you. He'll wait till you're ready." He said it with a softness I had never experienced from him before. I slowly pulled the covers away and sat up, cross-legged, in the bed. As I downed the pills, he cleared his throat, receiving my attention.

"Look Tae, about before, I'm sorry. You were completely out of it and I had to do something." He said with a sigh, not meeting my eyes. I felt heat rush to my cheeks as I realised I was disappointed that it hadn't been because he wanted to kiss me. That kiss had only made it worse for me. I had wanted to kiss him for a while but now the urge to kiss him was even worse, now that I felt his soft lips against mine. I was so panicked, I couldn't remember anything else than the fact that I had thought they were soft.

"Are you blushing?" I heard beside me and my head spun around so quickly, it made my head sting from the headache. I met his eyes, he had moved closer and was now mere inches away from me. My eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips and back, he was biting his lips. I shook my head to the question, thought about his lips against mine once more, and blushed again now only harder.

A corner of his mouth rose, creating a small smirk. How dare he. He moved even closer, till our noses almost touched. I couldn't, wouldn't move away from him.

"C'mon baby, I can see that you're blushing."

One moment full of confidence, next a blushing mess, hiding his face in his hands. His beautiful hands.

"I am so sorry, I tend to give people pet names." No, he doesn't.

"It's okay, MinMin. I like it" I said with a small smile, looking downwards.

"O-Okay"

How I just wish he would have kissed me again. 

Hey, I am sorry if there are any problems, English isn’t my first language and I have been struggling with writing lately. Anyways, enjoy.

[impertfectedchoices]

I Promise - PT.2

Prompt: In a Heartbeat Ship: James X MC POV: (Point of View): James Word Count: 1,614 Tags:

@hhiggs | @destinio1 | @marryjanewaston

Artist Comment: WE BACK! So after going on such a long excursion, I’ve returned! With some treats.

Or maybe this isn’t muuch of a treat, since I’m gonna be bringing back the ANGST! I plan to up the ante with this one. Make it more dramatic. Not even gonna lie, tapping into this, I got a little emotional writing it. 😪 This really hits home, and one of the saddest things I wrote. Yea, I cried. 🤧

PS, I’m writing this on a whim. No planning, drafting, or prethinking about plot before I write….

Let’s hope this goes well!

•

7:15pm

Please be okay

Messenger bag still slung around me, I pulled into the closest parking spot, climbed out the car, urgently slamming the door shut.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

As I quickly approached the building, all my mind could focus on was on her. Nothing else at this point mattered.

Tunnel visioned, I walked straight toward the check in desk.

“Hello, how may I help you?” Unaware that I’d been shaking as much as I was, I silently cleared the anxiousness from my throat, in attempts to keep my voice from cracking. Finally, I put on the smile I’d been used to having during situations like this.

“Hello,” I took a pause to look for a name tag. “Gwen, and, uh, yes you can. I need to know what room MC is currently in. She was taken here an hour ago and I’m just now arriving to see her, it’s urgent.” I could still feel my anxiety creep in progressively as I held onto the counter.

“Well I may need you to fill out this for-“ “Ma’am, I need to see her as soon as humanly possible. I’m sorry, but I can’t waste time filling out papers. I don’t know how much time I have left.” She looked up at me; taken aback. Guilt plunged deeper as I heard something unfamiliar come from my mouth after speaking - a crack. I have no recollection of my nerves getting the better of me to this extent. I started feeling less & less like myself. The calm and collected Ashton “heir,” that had not let anything get to him. It appeared more and more like a facade. It had been harder to keep my easygoing composure. This fear that’d suddenly sprung up on me…

“Sir.” My eyes cleared and focused back on her trying to regain my attention. “This is a ho-spi-tal. And I know you may not get that, so let me explain it to you.” The last thing I wanted to do was argue, not in the head space I was in. “I’m sorry miss, but I understand where I am. I just need to get to my friend before it’s too-“ She threw her hand up at my face, as if to hush me.

Her responses started sounding more belittling than helpful, with little to no reassurance in her tone. “Hospitals are not jungle gyms. I’m not sure what hospitals you’ve been to, but in this one, we run this establishment with organization.” The more she spoke, the less I cared about what she’d been saying. It grew more appealing to just walk through the doors without her permission. “…else waited. So I don’t care if whoever it is was on their deat-“ Just as I moved to walk away, I felt a hand grab the side of my shoulder. “Hey, yeah I apologies for the trouble. He’s with me.” The hand stretches out their arm towards the woman to show her their wristband, as I turn to see who it was. The woman reluctantly jotted in her notebook as she handed a wristband to me. “Your name?” She mumbled. “James.” Zig spoke for me after seeing my irritated expression, nudging me toward the double doors. He grabbed the wristband as I advanced passed.

“Yea, sorry about back there.” Zig seemed to had caught up to me, without too much effort. “The people here seem not to give a damn about emergencies.” He said nonchalantly, giving me a half-reassuring smile. I appreciated it. Sighing, I tried putting one on too, seemingly while still speed walking. “I noticed. She clearly didn’t understand how extreme of a situation this was for me…” the silence seemed to fall naturally. The atmosphere hospitals tend to exude it; urgency, nervousness, and absentmindedness. “Well, I’ve had my handful of experiences with hospitals…” He said breaking the silence. “…the longer people work here, the less they care about the patients-“ “They numb us out.” I said almost subconsciously. “Exactly.” I wasn’t 100% sure, but I could’ve sworn I picked up a hint of grief in his tone. I could relate. “Actually, how did you find me?” I’d completely forgotten that he came out of nowhere, literally. But, Then again, I wasn’t completely focused on my surroundings. “I was outside, at the front. I don’t really mesh with hospitals all that much…“ Made sense. “Plus, I was kind of getting anxious. You know, with MC. Needed a breather, and a smoke.” I let out a halfhearted chucking as we passed several familiar halls. I couldn’t pinpoint it, my mind being on so many things regardless.

“But I did see you, or maybe, a glimpse of you.” Had I been walking that fast? “By the time I glanced up from my phone, the door was already open. I didn’t think nothin’ of it until I looked up again, and saw your car parked up front;” New York license plate? “… New York license plate.” He’s more observant than I’d given him credit for. He always seemed laid back to really care much about anything. Shouldn’t have judged him so much spring semester. “Oh, you’ll need this by the way.” He hands me the wristband, taking it thankfully; I wrap it around my wrist. “Thanks Zig.” “Don’t mention it.”

Within a few minutes, and down several halls, I spotted familiar faces in the central waiting area of sectioned rooms. I noticed Becca first, dressed in her work uniform, pacing back and forth in the corner, with Madison - dressed in her volunteer scrubs standing on one end, trying to calm her down. I could catch grimaces of what she’d been saying, though she had been talking fast, “They won’t let me see her, what kind of ragtag hospital is this?” Zach had been sitting, holding a teary-eyed Kaitlyn by her shoulders, consoling her. When I walked up, I started to notice how swollen & red her eyes were. When she noticed me, her eyes got watery, and she’d bolted up, hugging me. Hugging her back, It was the last thing I expected she’d do, but when I looked down at Zach, the expression he gave me made my heart ache, then panic.

“Kaitlyn, what’s going on?” She drew back, wiping her eyes. It took her a minute to speak. “She… she wouldn’t wake up James. I d-don’t know what happened. I was t-t-there for her the ent-ire time. I-she wouldn’t wa-ake up… She w-ouldn’t ge-t up. I tr-ied everything p-p-possible. She w-wouldn’t mo-ove J-J-James. I d-don’t know w-what I di-d w-wro-ng.” I could feel her shaking in my arms, trying to speak through the stutters and hiccups. I pulled her back into my arms, hearing her weeping, sobs growing as I rubbed her back, feeling myself grow more terrified. Looking back at Zach, he’d looked like he’d been crying too, but was holding his composure better, at least her was now.

“Kaitlyn and I rode the ambulance here, while Chris went to pick up Becca up from Uskea, since she didn’t have a way to come here.” Looking over to Becca again, she’d now been tearing up. And part of her had been fuming that she was getting emotional in the first place. Madison never left her side. Grabbing my attention once more, Zach continued. “We got here and they’ve had her in that room this whole time.” My eyes moved subconsciously at the door, trying to relax my breathing. “I know t-t-his hurts James, it h-hu-hurts me t-t-too.” I heard muffling coming from Kaitlyn, still sobbing, but since has lessened. I choked back my want to cry as well, hearing her say that, but could tell my eyes were growing more glassy. “They called Chris to the side and are talking to him now. Haven’t heard any news yet.” Trying to wrap everything together, and clear the confusion only made me more sick to my stomach & dizzy. Mid-thought, The door glided open, and as my eyes jetted to the noise, Chris stepped out. He’d looked even more exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. Once seeing everyone, he attempted to clean himself up; clearing his throat, and taking a breath.

“Hey James,” he said walking over towards us, waving Becca & Madison over. His voices had been hoarse and strained. I nodded at him as Kaitlyn looked up. “W-what happening Chris?” After a pause that felt like ages, he cleared his throat one more time before speaking, not having the heart to look anyone in the eyes, but his gaze fixed on his fiddling hands. “Uh… the doctor…” Pausing, he glanced up around at everyone, sighing, then returning his eyes to his hands. I could physically feel my heart shatter & break, every heartbeat that pounded in my chest.

“She, she caught a rare case of Meningitis. She’s in a coma right now… um… fighting to stay alive.”

I felt tears roll down my face as he choked up, dropping his head into his hands. My mind went blank, the room sunk back, as my emotions took full control. The numbing began.

•LAST •NEXT

[ohmyexouniverse-blog]

EXO reactions: Bad Day

Thank you for requesting. The Sehun scenario and the other EXO reaction requests will be posted on weekend because midterms is sht. Also, please look forward for an EXO AU that I will post later or tomorrow. Thank you AND Enjoy!~ ^_^ 

Xiumin - Founds it quite amusing to see you sitting in a hidden part of the park while holding a tub of ice cream in one hand, and a spoon in the other. He thought seeing you in an awful state is just a wishful thinking. From the bush where he was hiding, he could hear your loud sobs so he decided to get up and made his way towards you. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around you. “Whatever bothers you, I just want you to remember that you’re not alone in this.”

Suho - After a stressful week, you had a mental breakdown. You decided to take a vacation somewhere far from the source of your stress. However, after three days of staying in the villa he suggested, your eyes became more swollen. You decided to buy another tub of ice cream at the nearby convenience store and ate it at the overlooking park. You ate in silence until someone sat across your seat. “M-Myeon...” you mumbled before sobbing. You looked down as you let the tears fall on your cheek, but he raised your chin immediately. “Sssh... don’t cry, y/n... come on, tell me all about it.”

Lay - He was taking a stroll when he heard your quiet sobs. You were sitting under the tree while holding a cup of cookies and cream flavored ice cream. He have heard about your problems from your friends and he also knows that you wouldn’t even bother to tell anyone about it because you don’t want to bother them. He sighed before looking around the park. All of a sudden, he found an old woman selling stems of roses. He bought all of the flowers and decided to pay few teenagers to give it to you one by one. When you received the flowers from the strangers, you became confused. Confused enough to look around to find the mastermind for this cheesy gesture. All of a sudden, he appeared, holding the last flower stem, kissing it before handing it to you. “Whatever it is, always remember that you’re the loveliest person in the whole world.”

Baekhyun - I hate everything. You feel like the whole world is working against you. Your project messed up, your sister ruined your powerpoint (which made you a laughing stock in your class), the sole of your shoes gave up on you, and the worst part, the rain poured the moment you stepped out of the university’s gate. Unfortunately, you didn’t brought your umbrella. Dripping, you entered the convenient store earning a glare from the cashier. You picked up a tub of ice cream and paid for it. The cashier gave you a spoon and you began eating it at the table on the side. “You know, you’ll end up catching a bad cold.” You glanced at Baekhyun’s direction with a puffy red eyes. He licks the ice cream he was holding as he sat beside you. “Do you want to talk about it now or do you want to hug me first?”

Chen - For four straight days you had a shit day and you can’t even vent it to anyone. Jongdae, your best friend, was still somewhere touring the whole world and sharing his God-given heavenly voice. Now, you ended up sitting on the couch at your living room, wrapped in a thick blanket while your nose were stuffy. You scooped a spoonful of ice cream before sobbing once again. Exams, responsibilities, and even the neighbors worn you out. Your audible sob were drowned by the series you were watching. Slowly, he entered your flat in silence. He was planning to surprise you, until he heard your sobs. “Hey...” he whispered while kneeling beside you. Your puffy eyes met his. He ran his finger on your cheeks as he wiped away those tears. “Would you like to eat at your favorite restaurant or would you like to watch disney movies again while talking about anything that bothers you?”

Chanyeol -  Sobs. Chanyeol could clearly hear your sobs in between of speaking. You told him about the rumors circulating in your university. “I-I was just... I’m not comfortable around them...” you were sitting alone in your apartment when he arrived. You already finished a tub of ice cream and about to dig in the another one when he took it from you. “Don’t mind them. Come here. I’ll listen to you.”

D.O. - “You look ugly when you cry,” he began as soon as he entered your room with messy hair. He was your bestfriend for a long time, partly the reason why he has his key duplicate. “Soo...” you mumbled before weeping. “I don’t think I can do it. I don’t want to do it anymore...” you told him while hugging him tightly. Kyungsoo sighed as he hugs you back. “Sssh... I’m here now. You can tell me everything about it. I promise to keep it to myself.”

Kai - “Mmm... what a yummy ice cream they got here,” he mumbled after licking the ice cream he bought making you look at his direction. He sat beside you, leaning his back on the bench. “You don’t have a plan to tell me about it, do you?” he asked. “J-Jongin...” you whispered after sniffing. “Come on.” He tapped his shoulder, smiling. “You can cry on my shoulders.” And you did.

Sehun - You were entranced by the coffee crumble ice cream you’ve ordered, but at the same time, tears cascades on your cheeks. Your professor had his eye on you, waiting you to fall down. Your classmates were ganging up against you. And the worse part, your bestfriend’s too busy to hang out with you. Well, that’s what you thought, since you haven’t noticed the man sitting beside you, watching your tears as it falls. He sighed before wrapping his arms around you. You were ready to hit the man when you saw his face. “As much as I want to watch you cry even more, I can’t help but comfort you.”

Lame af. T^T

Send me anything.

[moanneowe]

MY FATHER’S SON

Hey, I did another Amity write. This one is for “My Father’s Son” and I kinda like it. Idk it could be better, but here ya go. 

"You can't do anything! You're so infuriating!" she yelled.

"Sorry that I was out late!"

"No, you can't apologize! You were out late because you were drinking yourself into your grave! I won't accept your apology!"

"Fuck you!" I screamed.

"Why won't you let me help you?" she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. "Why won't you talk to me?"

"You wouldn't understand," I mutter.

"Because you won't let me try! You never talk to me!"

"You just wouldn't get it!"

"But if you just-"

"I SAID YOU WOULDN'T GET IT!" I scream and whirl around. I chuck the empty beer bottle in my hand at the wall next to where she stands. She flinches as the bottle shatters into a million pieces. I stare at the wet mark on the wall and the shattered glass on the floor. Realization slowly begins to dawn on me. I look into her eyes with tears in my own.

"Jessie I-" she shakes her head. She grabs her jacket off the coat rack and walks towards the door. "No, Jessie please! I'm so sorry! I don't know what I-"

"When I started dating you, I was scared. Your father was an alcoholic who beat his wife and his children. I was worried that you could eventually progress to what he was. I never wanted to believe it and I denied it, but I knew what you were becoming. When you started drinking, I was terrified," she gasps through tears. "I knew. I knew that you were just like him!" she cries. My hands begin to tremble. "So I'm not going to wait around to be your punching bag...literally," she whispers.

"Then leave already!" I scream. I pray the anger in my voice masks the desperation for her to stay with me. "Go! I don't need you, I don't need anybody!" Jessie looks up to the sky, letting some rain drops fall on her face. She lets out a pained chuckle and meets my eyes.

"You really are your father's son," she murmurs. As I watch her walk away, I start to fear. Was this the last time I'd see her beautiful green eyes? The anger boils in my stomach and I slam the front door shut. I slide down to the floor and put my head in my hands. Sobs start to fall from my lips. My water-filled eyes scan the room around me. Just like home. Clothes are scattered everywhere and there's so many empty liquor bottles and beer cans. Is this what I've become? It's just like it was when I was young.

"You got a what on that test?!" Father screamed as I showed him my scores. The liquor in the bottle sloshed in his hands. His eyes were bloodshot and brought tears to my own eyes. Why does he do this to himself? My nose crinkled at the stench of alcohol on his breath. But it wasn't just the alcohol. The scent of mold and rotting food filled my nose along with the scent of clothes that weren't washed since a few months prior. Beer bottles and cans littered the floor along with dirty shoes and jackets. The dark green walls of the room only seemed to close in on me as I faced the reality of what was going to happen. I had to tell my dad my grades and he was going to lose it.

"A D, Dad," I mumble.

"Speak up!"

"A D!" I cry.

"You think you can just laze your way through high school?"

"No. I didn't understand what-"

"You're so fucking disappointing!" I stumble onto the ground and gripped my cheek. I felt tears run down from my eyes. "Are you fucking crying? Get up!" my dad says and yanks me off the ground.

"Don't talk to him that way!" my mom screams. She shoves my dad away.

"Don't push me, bitch!" I covered my eyes but still cried out when I heard her scream. I felt my dad's hand grab my arm again and I punched his chest.

"I fucking hate you! Let go of me!"

"Hate me, but realize that you'll be this way too. When you realize the world is as sick as it is, you'll learn why I drink...then you'll drink too."

"No! I won't!"

"Shut up!" he screams and everything went black.

"She left me," I tell my therapist. She nods her head and scribbles something down in her notes. "I mean..." I run my hands through my hair. Never once did I cry in front of my therapist. I wasn't a particularly emotional person unless I was drunk, but I wasn't...not now. I reeked like alcohol, but that's why I'm here, right? The beige walls were almost a relief compared to the dark green walls of my home and my home when I was young. It made me sick to think about them. I knotted my hands back and forth. My therapist's eyes connect with my hands and she looks back up.

"What do you mean?" she asks calmly.

"I-it's my f-fault," my voice trembles. "If I...if I wasn't such a drunk bastard I'd probably have a girlfriend still," I laugh, tears welling in my eyes. "I...I threw a bottle of liquor at her. I just lost my temper and chucked it. It didn't hit her, but that doesn't matter. It's..." I stop and look away.

"Let me ask you. What do you think about yourself? You said you were a drunk bastard, implying distaste for yourself. But I'm assuming part of your addiction isn't just because your father did it. What are your feelings about yourself?" I let out a long and hard laugh.

"I...I'm ashamed of myself," I say and put my head in my hands. "I just want out of this place, this hell I've created. I can't seem to escape it. Every time I try I am just met with failure. It's miserable," I cry.

"Why are you ashamed of yourself?"

"Because Jessie's right...I am like my father."

I stare at the filthy carpet. There are clothes and dirty shoes everywhere. The scent of molding food fills my nose and I feel the urge to vomit. However, the nausea could be due to the alcohol. I lift the liquor to my lips and gag when the potent smell fills my nostrils. I grab the trash can and pour the liquor out from my stomach. I spit the remaining poison into the trash can. I fall back into the couch and look up at the ceiling. The fan spins slowly, chopping through the air. Black spots pollute my vision and I see my body hanging from the fan. I look away and wipe more tears from my eyes. The same green walls close in on me. The beer cans and empty bottles seem to multiply as I stare at the floor. Something black catches my eyes and I pick up my phone. I click it on and see an unread message from Jessie. My heart leaps into my throat. I love you <3. Received 9/3/17...three days ago. I let that message sit for three days? No wonder she came to check on me. I run my hands through my hair and start to cry again. You really are your father's son. I shake my head. I knew that you were just like him! I sit up straighter. I am not my father, I repeat. Use the techniques your therapist gave you. I am not my father. The scent of week old pizza fills my nose. I am not my father. The sound of the fan slowly spinning around buzzes in my ears. I am not my...my father. Jessie's face glimmers in my mind. I'm not. I see her tear-soaked eyes wanting to stay but needing to leave. I see the fear in her eyes as she realizes...I am my father's son.

"No! No, I'm not!" I sob. "I'm nothing like that...nothing like that monster," I say as realization begins to dawn on me again. In a blurry state, I stumble to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, ragged hair, pale skin, and trembling lips. I stare into the mirror a little longer, praying for some kind of difference between he and I. There has to be one! At least one! You really are your father's son. I slam a fist into the mirror. Surprisingly, it shatters. I look at the broken pieces on the skin. Suddenly, dizziness overtakes me. I stumble backwards and fall against the door. I feel my stomach churn and I again throw up. However, my body feels paralyzed so it spills out onto the floor. My eyes feel as if they're jerking around the room, but everything is growing much darker. I feel panic in my lungs, but as the room grows darker it grows smaller. Am I...am I dying? Did all this alcohol finally get to me? I try and lift my body off the ground, but I can't. I weep as I process that this could be the end of my life. I never wanted it to end this way. I wanted to live much longer...with Jess. But I won't get it because I chose this. I chose this hell. I vaguely think I hear someone calling my name, but my body surrenders to the dark.

A bright light hangs above me. The room is bright, practically fluorescent. The room is slightly cold, enough to give me goosebumps but not enough to make me shiver. Bags of clear liquid hang over my head. There's little feelings in my body. However, I feel something touching my arm. I move my head slightly. Pain pierces through my skull, but I look over and see Jessie. She has her head on my arm, crying softly.

"J-Jess," I mutter. She jerks her head up and tears burst from her eyes.

"You idiot!" she screams and embraces me. She sobs into my neck. You stupid, stupid, stupid man! Why the hell didn't you let me help you?!"

"Jess-"

"You never listen to anything I say! I just want the best for you! I-"

"I want to get better," I whisper. Jess pulls back, meeting my eyes.

"What?" she gasps.

"I want to get better." Jess covers her mouth, holding back even more tears. "I can't do it on my own. I need help...your help. I'm so sorry for what I did. I didn't mean-"

"I love you," she says softly.

"I love you too." I press her forehead against mine. "Will you stay with me?"

"Always."

[kemetichaote]

My “bad trip” last night.

“Drugs have a long history of use in magic in various cultures, and usually in the context of either ecstatic communal rituals or in personal vision quests. However, compared to people in simple pastoral tribal situations most people in developed countries now live in a perpetual state of mental hyperactivity with overactive imaginations anyway, so throwing drugs in on top of this usually just leads to confusion and a further loss of focus.

Plus, as the real Shamans say, if you really do succeed in opening a door with a drug it will thereafter open at will and most such substances give all they will ever give on the first attempt.”

― Peter J. Carroll, The Octavo: A Sorcerer-Scientist's Grimoire

Here is a disclaimer: in this piece, I will discuss a difficult but spiritual acid trip that I had last night. I will also discuss my mental health issues and marijuana use. If anything concerning this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please read no further below the cut.

This is incredibly long, but I feel compelled to write about this and recall my experience. I am a storyteller; this is my fundamental purpose in life. If someone can listen and perhaps even relate to my story, then I have done my job.

SKIP THIS PORTION TO READ ABOUT THE ACID TRIP ITSELF.

First and foremost, I have to give some context. I am fresh out of college; I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree at an out-of-state university in 2015. I failed to get my Master’s in the following year (I did a one-year track program) because the program and its off-campus practicums were not a good fit for me. I was not treated with any compassion regarding my mental health issues. In one instance in March of last year, I was hospitalized for about five days due to a mental breakdown (more specifically, a depressive episode; I have bipolar II). Following this, I was put on some new medication that helped me a little bit, but not nearly enough. I then spiraled into a hypomanic episode marked by impulsivity, drug and alcohol abuse, insomnia, lack of focus, and total recklessness. Shortly after these symptoms arose, I flunked out of my off-campus practicum and therefore graduate school.

This episode culminated in me totaling my beautiful car in early November of last year that my parents so generously gave me. In a matter of several weeks, I had managed to lose not just my education, work, and future prospects, but also my only mode of transportation. This made me feel defeated and hopeless. Obviously, I had to let the cat out of the bag and tell my family. They did not take any of this news well; my parents both freaked out and my entire family insisted that I had to go to rehab. What they did not understand was that the drug and alcohol abuse were not the problem. The problem was my bipolar II, post-traumatic stress, and borderline personality disorder. I told them firmly that rehab would not help me. I did not need to be trapped in some box surrounded by negative influences and energies. I needed to be in intensive therapy for an extended period of time. With the insistence of my therapist at the time, my parents agreed to let me come home and do a partial hospitalization program, followed by intensive outpatient treatment, and finally outpatient care comprised of weekly therapist visits and medical monitoring by a psychiatrist.

On the upside, I am feeling much better now that I am out of this treatment. I have reduced my marijuana use, quit drinking, and been searching for a job to the best of my ability. In addition, I have solidified my sexual and romantic identity and have come out to a good portion of my family and all my friends as a lesbian. (I even have a girlfriend as of three months ago!) I have done serious damage control and have weighed the quality of my relationships, weeding out people who do not make the cut. I have tightened my circle of friends and spent a lot of time with them and genuinely enjoyed their company. However, this progress is an uphill battle, punctuated with mini-struggles. Although my emotions are much more regulated due to a healthy serving of a new mood stabilizer, I frequently experience oversleeping and fatigue, listlessness, body pain, decreased appetite, and decreased libido. Despite cutting down significantly, I continue to smoke cigarettes. I struggle with time management and am quite forgetful, especially when it comes to short-term memory. I struggle to meet deadlines and make appointments.

Perhaps my most pronounced issue right now is the fact that I am living alone in my grandmother’s house that my aunt (who owns it) plans to sell within the next five months or so. I do not live with my parents, although I am certainly welcome to; in addition to more convenience when it came to pursuing treatment, I also did not want to live with my emotionally abusive stepfather. I struggle with daily tasks at my grandmother’s house, such as keeping the house organized and clean. Although I am alone most of the time, I am under enormous pressure from my family members to find a job and find my own place. This pressure comes from their concern, obviously, because they love me and care about me. However, they do not express this concern in a patient and compassionate manner. I frequently get into screaming and swearing fights with my aunt and bicker with my grandmother. I have been isolating myself from my family, even my little cousins who are a huge source of happiness for me. They make me anxious and bitter.

HERE ARE THE DETAILS RELATED TO THE TRIP ITSELF.

Fast forward to last night. I had plans to be with my girlfriend all day and have her stick around to “trip-sit” while my friend and I dropped acid. This was the second acid trip I have had in my entire life thus far. I have also tripped once on psilocybin mushrooms. My girlfriend did not drop but she was certainly welcome to mine and my friend’s shit-ton of weed. I took two tabs per my friend’s suggestion; I told him that my first time I only took one, but he assured me that I would be fine taking two. About thirty minutes after taking the acid and smoking a few bowls, I began to trip.

Initially, it was everything I expected based on my previous acid trip. I felt elated, goofy, and warm, colors sparkled and were brighter, and I was social and chatty. A little while later I was going off on philosophical rants. However, things started to go south when I had a pronounced mood swing where I started sobbing for several minutes and almost immediately snapped out of it and felt giddy again. This contentment persisted for about two hours until the “bad trip” feelings started creeping back. It’s a bit of a blur, but I do recall sitting on my bed with my friend and weeping vaguely about “going through a lot lately.” This progressed to me hearing my own voice and realizing how quiet and hollow it sounded; I felt like I was a millimeter high in a massive and swirling multiverse. It was intensely emotional and humbling. I sat on the floor with my friend after I started feeling better and I saw pronounced geometric patterns, grids suspended in space, breathing walls, and tracers. This entertained me for a bit until I plunged right back into the “bad trip” and curled up on the couch. I was crying anew, insisting to my friend and my girlfriend that I had to “let go.”

What did this mean exactly? To me, it meant that I had to delve into what felt like a dark night of the soul. I had to reach the bottom of the emotional hole I was in and crawl back out of it. However, I stayed on the precipice out of compassion for my friends and fear of abandoning them. I feel a deep sense of regret because of this. However, I understand where my tripping self was coming from. Shortly after more weeping punctuated with a handful of hits off a bowl, I was able to regain my composure and coast through the remainder of my trip for the rest of the night (we watched a lot of Bob Ross videos).

Upon waking this afternoon (morning had already flown by), I woke up to my house in shambles (when it comes to acid, I like to let everything happen as it may and then focus on picking up the pieces later). My body ached all over and I had some residual lockjaw. My head was pounding; I immediately suspected I was dehydrated. In this particular moment, I could not see myself getting out of bed at all. The letters on my phone screen still wiggled. I lay there and scrolled through some forums online where people discussed being permanently scarred, even traumatized, by their bad trips. I felt regretful; I told myself that I would never take acid ever again.

However, after one cigarette and some reflection, I sat up in the bed, suddenly energized. I realized in that single moment this was not a bad trip at all; it was just another life experience. I had always told myself that in order to take acid, I could not fear losing control. In fact, up until this point I had consoled myself with the mantra that I had to not only endure but embrace chaos. However, in order to experience a true sense of control, it is necessary to experience loss of control. This self-counsel brought me to the conclusion that I was okay now, I was safe, and my bad trip was not only necessary but quite cathartic and helpful. I then proceeded to bathe, groom, clean the entire house, cleanse and ward every room with careful and complex spellwork, and leave out some offerings for the Netjeru. It was nothing short of amazing; I had not felt this energized in a long time. I also ate, drank at least six tall glasses of water, and have only smoked two cigarettes today!

I am still reading between the lines of this experience. Perhaps the trip propelled me into a hypomanic episode; this is the medical and psychological theory. However, it is more comforting embrace the theory that I am permanently altered for the better. This dark night of the soul was purposeful and profound. Although I won’t be tripping again any time soon, I look forward to next time. Hopefully, I can continue to push boundaries until I finally break through to knowledge, well-being, balance, structure, and happiness.