#oh my god i hate it here so much why do i do this to myself

[caramelkoo]

no questions asked— jjk

Jeon jungkook wants nothing more than to get settled with his girlfriend, but what if her fear of commitment makes him take a step back? Will he do it, or will he be able to changer her mind for good?

pairing : Jungkook X reader

genre : established relationship, smut, fluff

word count : 6.6k (im begging for forgiveness)

Based on this ask <33

warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature, oc is an anxious girly (same), mentions of emotionally unavailable parents, jungkook is a man of dreams, simp boyfriend jungkook, car sex, unprotected sex (be safe), begging, reference of titanic if you squint, yeah that's pretty much it.

a/n : this took million business days lmao but finally it's here. the sweetest anon requested a drabble but i couldn't do it and as much as i tried to make it shorter, it got stretched to 6k words 😭 so im deeply sorry anon. the rest of you who enjoy longer fics, dig in. I love you guys so much, you might not know this but yall are my besties for resties. kisses. 💌

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Your boyfriend is going to propose to you.

Oh god

Oh. my. God.

Anxiety is not a foreign feeling for you. Although this time, it’s an indescribable sort. Something which is lingering in the deepest pit of your stomach for a lack of better word. Besides, there’s a mayhem inside your head, the voices are loud and intimidating, causing you to bite your lip to a point where they bleed while also staring at nothing. 

Jungkook has been nothing but secretive— the poor boy has no idea that you have already seen the navy blue box sitting inside his side of the drawer. You can swear it was totally unintentional.

In your defense, you had been searching for your glasses and that was the only place left to fish around. Nobody could have prepared you for the utter shock when your eyes fell on that box and so for a minute or two you just stood there, horrifyingly still and stunned. However, you recovered quickly, because to be quite honest it was about time one of you mustered up enough courage to ask the question.

It’s supposed to make you thrilled right? So why does something feel… off? 

“Penny for your thoughts?”, as soon as Cherry’s voice reaches your ears, you snap out of it and flash her a forced smile. 

“Yeah-” you begin, “Yeah uh- I’m just thinking about nothing in particular.” 

“_____ you’re an amazing girl but you gotta work on those lying skills.”

A chuckle leaves your mouth. You shouldn’t even have bothered in the first place, the girl can read you like a book. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours huh?” 

She picks up the book before scanning it with the barcode scanner all the while you marvel if you should tell her or just let it go, but then you also know how she would become a pain in the ass if you don’t spill the beans to her. Anyway, she can;t make you overthink it any more than you already have. 

You bite your lower lip before saying, “I feel like Jungkook is going to propose.” 

If looks alone could kill, you would have been buried deep by now with the way the man wearing an olive green cardigan, probably in his 50s, gives you side eye when Cherry drops the book with a loud thud on the counter. 

You wince.

“I’m sorry what?” 

When you subtly signal her to pick what she’s dropped, she takes a hold of the book, apologizes to the man who— you’re hundred percent sure hates your guts now, and resumes her work. 

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Ha! Girl you better start telling me more or none of us are going home today.”

She’s talking to you but her hands keep shuffling between scanning the books and expeditiously typing on the keyboard.

A spark of hesitation finds a way inside your heart. The thing is, you’re not sure. Do you want to marry the love of your life? Absolutely. Do you think you can keep the marriage going and stable? No. 

There you said it.

And that kills you because jeopardising your bond and connection with Jungkook is the last thing you want to do.

Maybe, it’s because nobody in your family has been able to keep their inner spark alive after they had gotten married or you might as well blame it on the relationship your own parents have had before your eyes. 

For everyone who couldn’t see past the walls of your house, your parents were an ideal couple. A pair who were equally efficient and successful in their respective areas of life. With your father being a renowned businessman and your mother holding the title of a world famous fashion designer, they couldn’t have been a better partner for each other, right?

Wrong. Too bad you had the honor of being an onlooker of their facade slipping away before getting replaced by their real impudent selves. 

But that’s all you could do though. You were merely just an audience. Someone who could see everything shatter before her eyes and not do a single thing to put an end to it. 

Constant fights, fuming with jealousy over one of them achieving more than the other, sabotaging each other.

All hell broke loose when they began making you take sides. 

You think mommy is better don’t you, honey?

You should be proud of your dad, ____. You’re living such a luxurious life thanks to me. 

For the love of god you were five. What does a five year old know about luxury or human ego? What could you have possibly known about who is better? In your eyes, they were your mom and dad and not some squish mellows placed side by side from which you had to take your pick. Let’s not even start with the emotional unavailability they provided you with.

A knot lodges in your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I happen to see the box inside his drawer”

“You’re sure it had a ring inside- Wait, don't answer that”, she shakes her head as if she just asked the most ridiculous question ever.

No shit.

“But that’s a good thing right? I mean you guys have been seeing each other for a while now and marriage is the final stop.” she continues and you can’t help but feel terrible, because she is making sense. 

A sigh leaves you, “Yeah no- I mean yeah it is but I didn’t expect him to take the initiative so suddenly. No hints were dropped at all. Marriage is, gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but it seems intimidating to me.” 

The queue has finally dissipated at this point so she faces you fully showcasing her engrossment in your dilemma. The girl feeds off drama but refuses to get involved in one.

Her expression morphs into something between horrified and sympathetic. “_____, is that because of your parents?” 

Your heart skips a beat. This whole time you and only you had authority over this thought that your fear of marriage is deeply rooted in your own parents’ fucked up relationship. A belief that lay sly and unseen.

Only after those words left Cherry’s mouth did you realise how venomous they sound. It makes you aware that the fear was not as concealed as you intended to keep it. What are you supposed to do when you find out that somebody else knows about your deepest terrors? Run? Hide? Or simply not say anything? 

Your mouth feels suddenly dry. “What?” 

Cherry takes a hold of your palm and rubs it gently, “If it is, I want you to know that it’s not the case for everyone. Marriage is a beautiful concept, a lovely commitment. Are there some pitfalls to it? Yes. But that’s the beauty of it. The way two people come together and resolve them-”

Your phone buzzes inside your pocket causing you to flinch. Releasing your hands from her hold, you take it out and see your grandmother’s number stare up at you. 

“I’ll just be back.” you excuse yourself just as a woman places a stack of books on the counter.

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“Hey, beautiful” you greet her, a smile lighting up your entire face.

“My baby, did I catch you at the wrong time?” her voice is like a balm to your heart. So warm and comforting. It reminds you of your movie nights with her where you didn’t have to be anything or pretend. You just had to exist and she made it worth it. Always. 

“Now you know even the devil himself can’t stop me from talking to you.” 

A loud chortle reaches your ears and you imagine her throwing her head back, laughing. 

“I was calling to ask if you and your eye candy of a boyfriend are visiting home this year for thanksgiving, dear?” 

Dear lord, you can’t believe you forgot about that.

Your eyes widen, and just when you think you could bubble up some other lie, she speaks up, “You forgot, didn’t you?” 

Yeah, bold of you to assume you can do that and get away. You actually need to work on your lying skills. For whatever reason. You want to pluck your eyelashes out one by one because of how gloomy she sounds.

“I’m genuinely sorry, grams.” pinching the bridge of your nose you continue, “I’ve just been busy with work and barely making ends meet. I promise this is the first and last time I let it slip my mind.” 

With the job you have, there’s only so much cash you can count and while you would love to make a career out of writing, the thought of publishing your own book sends shivers down your spine.

Every time you open the draft a new mistake pops up, taking a percentage of your self confidence down the drain. You’re only human. A microscopic slip catches your attention and you start questioning your life choices. 

“Honey, come home and give yourself some time off, what do you youngsters like to call it? Oh yes, grind. Yeah?” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Wow someone has been too into love island lately.”

Cherry raises her eyebrows from across the room and you mouth her the word ‘grandma’. She nods with a smile on her face, going back to work. 

A long stretch of silence hangs in the air before you hear her ask, “_____, what else is wrong?” 

The smile which has been adorning your face this whole time instantly drops. You blink.

Once

Twice

Thrice 

“I don’t understand.” Liar.

“You know what I mean, baby. I want you to tell me more, because I know something has been bothering you. What is it?”

Humans are so funny sometimes. They can be as close to you as your own soul and not have a hint of your torment. Meanwhile, there is your grandmother, who despite being so far away from you just….. knew. But again, it has always been like this hasn’t it? 

Whenever you got tired of your parents throwing stuff around the house, making each other lick the floors, trying to make their own and your life a living hell, she knew. 

She was the one who allowed you to cry, and assured you that she would not call you dramatic if she happened to hear your sobs.

You were allowed to cry,

You were allowed to ask for help,

You were allowed to not hold back.

Sucking in a deep breath, you release it, “Everything else is perfect, grams.”

Mr William is always the first person to greet you everyday when you reach the apartment. He’s been working as a guard for years now and you’ve grown quite familiar with him. While being the sweetest man you’ve ever come across, he also brings his wife’s yummiest tarts for you whenever she makes them. Arguably, they deserve more hype than they get.

“She knows how much you love her tarts” he says, making you feel immense gratitude towards his kindness. 

This particular night, he seems…. restless. He’s shifting from one foot to another as you shut the cab’s door behind you. Striding over to him, you mentally try your best to figure out his uneasiness. 

Clearing your throat, your throat as you ask, “Is everything alright, Mr William?” 

Only after he hears your voice, he gains his composure. Or so he tries. 

He hands you a piece of paper which feels a bit wet and you wonder what could have been so intense that the man began having clammy palms.

It’s nearly concerning, not to mention it doesn’t help with your own anxiety at all. If not, shoot it up. 

“Your boyfriend dropped by around lunch time, miss. He handed me this and asked me to give it to you as soon as you come back from work.”

He couldn’t have given it to you yesterday when he was with you in the first place? Weird.

“I see, but why are you so tense? Has something happened?” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “My wife has been sick and I was supposed to leave early but I figured it would be better if I gave it to you safely before going home to her.” 

Fuck

“You could have given this to me later. Your wife comes first, sir.” you gulp, “Please, I appreciate your gesture but she needs you more. Thank you so much and please let me know if I can be of help.”

He releases an empty chuckle. “Thank you, Miss” 

With one last nod you walk inside the building while also hoping he doesn’t call you for help. Not because you won’t do anything it takes to help him, but because you hope it wouldn’t come to it. The moment you shut the apartment door behind and turn on the light, the piece of paper steals your attention. Without waiting any further, you unfold it, coming across Jungkook’s writing. 

The note alone feels like he whispered it into your ear before placing the softest kiss on your skin. Your lips stretch into a serene smile as you stride over to the bedroom, turning the doorknob as your gaze catches a purple bodycon resting on top of your bed. It is accompanied with a bouquet of pink tulips as well as a bar of Dubai chocolate. 

Your head that has been nothing short of a commotion is now finally at peace. Not entirely but at peace nonetheless.

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Jungkook was 12 when he went on his first roller coaster ride. He was, like every other child, afraid. Afraid that he might fall and hurt himself so bad, he wouldn’t ever be able to get up. The roller coaster had a massive drop followed by a corkscrew which took him upside down. Until the moment Jungkook saw a woman in yellow dress buying a bunch of tulips from the flower shop he very often visited, he had never felt his stomach bottom out as strongly as it did during that drop back then.

There she was, chatting with the florist as if they’re best friends. He could see her behind the glass picking out the pink tulips before sniffing them. Meanwhile, Jungkook stood across the road, soaked and enchanted as he wondered if he should ask for her number or chicken out. Eventually, the latter won. 

But here’s the thing, Jungkook is not one for losing. He hates losing, even the term makes him want to peel his own skin off. 

He saw her hair first, becoming curly locks reaching down to her waist and just above her hips. Granted that his line of sight only allowed him to see her side profile, he assumed she was gorgeous. It was not unlikely for him to see beautiful women on a daily basis, but something about her just sucked him in. His eyes could not leave her face and he believed even if they tried, he would pluck them out just to punish them. Was it weird that his hands itched to hold a woman he doesn’t even know? 

What’s her name?

Where does she live?

What’s her favorite color?

How does she like her coffee?

There’s a japanese phrase called koi no yokan which means that you eventually will fall in love with a person you meet. You’re going to grow so fond of that person that you would want to see no one by your side but them. She was that person for him. 

He rubs his hands for the nth time in a futile attempt to warm them up, waiting outside ____’s building. How is this evening going so slow? He has been here for perhaps half an hour now, so why does it feel like it’s been a decade? 

And funnily enough, the only person who can put him out of his misery is _____. At this point, the guy fears he wouldn’t be able to so much as look her in the eye, but not doing that will be the end of him too.

He looks down and lets his hands run over his black button down shirt, wondering if she would like it. She loved seeing him in black on the first date. A loud click clack of heels grab his attention, perking his ears up. He looked up and there she was in all her glory. 

Jungkook releases a breath and rubs his chest as if his heart hurts. As if it’s telling him how unworthy he is of this woman who is walking up to him, who may be as nervous as him but still chose him as her man. 

The woman who could have anyone she wanted wrapped around her pinky finger gave her days, nights and evenings to him. She smiled at him, for him and if he was lucky, because of him.

_____ stops before him while he’s still adjusting to the sight of her. “How do I look?” 

Unreal, exquisite and way out of his league.

He shakes his head from side to side, thinking of a single word that would suffice the answer to that. He fails and so instead he runs his fingers down her forearm until he reaches her soft hands and takes it into his own cold ones. 

Placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles, he begins. “My imagination of you in this dress has got nothing on this vision.” 

Her face morphs into the softest expression of love, “And exactly how many times have you imagined me in this dress, Jeon Jungkook?” 

He takes a step forward, his chest almost touching hers. “I can’t answer that. You want to know why?” 

“Why?” Her voice is emotionless. His thumb grazes her lower lip as he tries not to smudge her nude lipstick. “Because if I do, we’ll have to go back into your apartment and try not to wake your neighbours up.” She swats his chest and softly pushes him back, dissolving into a giggle. 

“You’re looking quite handsome yourself.” she says as her eyes shamelessly check him out. His sleeves are halfway folded stopping just below his elbow, beautifying his tattooed forearms.

He’s also wearing his favorite blue baggy jeans with his usual black chunky boots. The same ones he goes for when he knows _____ might not be able to bear the pain caused by her heels, so he ends up swapping them with the boots.

He would argue carrying her all the way to her apartment instead, but settles elseways. 

Jungkook opens the car door for her and only after she’s well seated, he runs to his side and takes off. 

The ride to the restaurant is quiet despite the obvious tension that doesn't go unnoticed by either him or her. As much as he would like to spend the rest of the night snuggled into bed with her, he knows there is something more significant than that. So instead he indulges in caressing her thigh. 

“After you, angel.” He places a hand on the small of her back. 

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The ambience looks straight out of the movies. Like a paradise. Violinists are playing a chorus of Fuck her gently by Tenacious D far across the room. 

Jungkook catches an unknown look on her face. “Something’s wrong?” 

She shakes her head, flashing him a smile. “I love this song.”

He places a tiny kiss on her temple. “I know, baby. C’mon.” 

You know how women have this killer instinct of knowing if and when somebody’s watching them? It’s like they have a separate pair of googly eyes on the back of their head to protect them from creeps. 

From the moment you have entered the place, the man in the wine shirt has been making a hole in your face with the way he’s been staring at you. 

Is your dress too revealing? Are you showing too much skin?

“Oh I forgot to tell you. Your grandmother called earlier today.” Jungkook disrupts your thoughts. 

You gulp down the last piece of steak before answering. “Let me guess she asked you to join her for thanksgiving?” He nods, a bright smile on his face. “I told her I would love to.” 

A cheeky smile unfurls slowly on your face. Jungkook loves your grandmother. Maybe a little bit more than you do. Just a tiny bit though. Last year when you and he visited her, he was the first person apart from you to get a hug out of her.

Your grandma is not much of a hugger by the way. Her hugs are totally exclusive. 

“I’m sure she loves having my ‘eye candy of a boyfriend’ there.” 

Jungkook snorts, placing his fork down. “She called me an eye candy?” 

He dissolves into a fit of laughter when you answer his question with a nod. 

“See now that’s the biggest achievement I have had in a while. I mean what are the odds your wife’s grandma calls your an eye candy-”

Something sours in your stomach. The steak here tastes awful or maybe it’s just you feeling pathetic that as soon as he says ‘wife’ your expression morphs into something so dreadful that it causes him to stop. What are the odds that you just gave him a reality check and dragged him out of a fool’s paradise?

“Angel, what’s-” 

You stand abruptly, cutting him off yet again. His eyes bob all over you, and then a sad frown puckers between his brows. 

“I’ll just be back. I need to use the washroom.” You say as you grab your handbag as quickly as you can before leaving him there. Confused and wondering what the fuck just happened?

Few minutes later, just as you’re walking outside the washroom and making a way towards your table someone’s voice causes you to stop midway. 

“Excuse me.” 

Turning to face the person, you come face to face with the same man from earlier. The one wearing a wine colored shirt along with a nasty expression. You believe he’s trying to look cocky but is failing miserably.

“Can I help you?” 

A slow smile spreads over his mouth. “I couldn’t help but notice that the man you’re here with seems to upset you in some way.”

An awkward chuckle leaves you. “The man is my boyfriend and I don’t think it concerns you if he’s upsetting me or not.” 

He walks a little closer. Oh no, this is bad. 

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “But clearly he’s not being a good boyfriend, is he?” 

The audacity of this man.

You huff out a frustrated breath, “Listen, you need to shut up and stay within your limits. It’s not healthy going around poking your nose into everyone’s business.” 

His sly smile grows even more as he steps closer than before. 

The hair on your body stands up, and not in a good way, but in a very uncomfortable way. You suddenly regret the idea of leaving Jungkook’s side. Bad, bad decision. 

Currently, you have two options. You can either just walk off and act like nothing happened, which by the way, is a safe option or you can kick the man in the balls and then act like nothing happened.

Since you're much more accustomed to the former option, you decide to do just that but when his hands grip your wrist with an iron grip, you settle on the latter. 

You knee him between the legs with an intention to hurt him as he grunts in pain, his hands gripping where you just kicked him. 

“You fucking bitch.” 

Before he can say anything further, you storm off. Your phone buzzes inside your handbag and you automatically assume it to be Jungkook’s call. As soon as you spot him across the room, you feel the clouds parting, there’s a feeling threatening to arise. It’s something between protected and anguished. 

Anguished because you let your mind speak so deafeningly that it silenced the oh so loud love Jungkook has for you. And protected because you know for a fact that if he had any idea about what that man just did to you, he would not think twice before dragging him by the hair before bringing him to his knees in front of you to apologize. 

He stands once he sees you and you waste no time running towards him. Your arms go around him as you nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. His arms immediately embracing you in return, securing you against his chest.

It feels warm.

Concern laces his voice as he says, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you. Breathe” 

You don’t even realise you’re panting unless he says that. You’re aware that at this point the way you flung yourself at him must have got everyone’s attention. But you genuinely don’t care. It might as well be an auditorium full of people watching you hug your boyfriend like an anchor, you just don’t care. 

You realise that’s exactly what Jungkook is. Your anchor. Someone who didn’t even ask as to what happened before he straight away began consoling you. 

His hand envelops the back of your head in a protective way while the other soothes your back. 

“Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to.”

“Yes, please.”

His body shakes as though he just nodded. “All right, let me pay real quick and we’ll leave yeah?”

Your voice is muffled against his chest. “Yeah.”

You suck in a sharp breath as he lets you go. The small folder on the table grabs your attention. He opens it only to find a note inside of it saying— “It’s on me, gorgeous”. 

You can see the wheels in his mind turning, but before he starts asking you any questions which may or may not cause a breakdown of yours, you say, “I’ll explain it to you outside. Can we please go?” 

“Let me see wh-”

“Please?” He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. “Yeah- Yeah let’s go.” 

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At first when Jungkook saw that note, the first emotion that he felt was rage and a very serious one at that. But it was soon replaced by realization. It doesn’t take a scientist to figure out that something nasty went down after _____ left to use the washroom. Something he can’t wait to get to the bottom of. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her to be pressured to answer the more obvious question. 

Jungkook’s girl is attractive. She’s kind and empathetic and fucking stunning which makes her worthy of all the attention she gets. Of course men are going to want to be with her. 

Initially, it bothered him. A lot. 

Now, though? He’s grown rather used to it. However, it has never come to having someone pay for her in a restaurant. Even the thought of someone so much as speaking to her in an inhumanely manner makes him want to punch a hole through a wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The silence is too loud inside the car. He can hear ____’s heart beating loudly or is it his own?

She’s leaning back with her head against the headrest. When she doesn’t respond, Jungkook speaks again, “_____ baby, will you please at least look at me?” 

Her eyes connect with his and he flashes her the softest of smiles.

Taking her hand, he kisses the inside of her wrist where he can feel her pulse. 

Thump thump thump. 

“I want you to give me something, angel. Anything.” 

He can see her gulp before admitting, “There was um… there was a guy outside the washroom and he kind of tried to force himself on me,” she closes her eyes for a brief moment, “Maybe I’m just being dramatic, but I handled him.” 

Jungkook’s stomach drops. He was right. His hands fly out to open the car door before _____ holds him back. “Don’t. I said I handled it.”

He turns back, his voice leaking with anger along with something more barbaric. “And I’m proud that you did, but if I don’t go in and beat that asshole into a new one I won’t be able to call myself a man worthy of you anymore. I need him to know that he can’t fuck with my girl and go about his goddamn day.” “Jungkook, please. I can’t take it anymore. Please stop.” 

And he does. For now. 

He leans back, running his hands over his face with frustration. For a few minutes he and ____ just stare outside the front glass of the car. The parking lot slowly gets empty as people leave for their homes one by one. 

Just when he thinks  _____ has dozed off, her voice reaches him. “Can I get one more hug?” 

“Come here.” 

He takes her into a warm embrace before kissing the top of her head, settling his lips there. His anger has yet not fully dissipated, but having her so close calms his heart. It calms his whole being. Her touch, her breath against his skin, her presence heals something in him.

Therefore, he made up his mind about spending his whole life with her. The little slip of words, which by the way was totally unintentional, soured _____'s expression and that didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

She’s scared but he fully intends to let her know that she doesn’t have to.

______ unwraps herself from his arms and pushes back. Just enough for their noses to touch.

She shakes her head, “Don’t give me those eyes.” 

Jungkook holds back a smile. “What eyes, angel?” 

“The same ones you give me when you want something dirty to happen. Those big brown eyes of yours.”

He lets a chuckle slip out. “I’m down if you are.” 

When she offers him her own laugh, gosh it’s as though he comes alive. If he could bottle up the sound, he would. Something passes in _____’s eyes. Lust? Desire? He can’t pinpoint. 

He wants to kiss the hell out of her though and he wants to do it desperately. Her eyes drop to his mouth and he takes it as a sign to lean forward and press his mouth against hers. 

Her lips part ever so slightly followed by her gripping Jungkook’s collar to bring him even closer. So close as if she wants their souls to intertwine. 

The feeling is very much mutual. 

She gets up from the passenger’s seat without breaking the kiss and straddles his lap. Her legs on either side of his thigh as their core’s touch. Jungkook is not sure how long he can endure this sweet pain of waiting. 

In all sincerity, he’s been holding himself back from the very moment he saw her walking up to him in that dress. Do with that information what you will. 

Now, he just wants to say fuck it and get inside her— only that he can’t, because he wants her to take her time and ask for it. Then and then only he will fuck her. If it’s inside this car then so be it. 

The kiss is electric and filled with passion, tingling his skin in all the right places as she matches his enthusiasm with her own.

______ pulls back with a deep breath, leaving Jungkook panting heavily. 

“Please.” she begs. 

A strand of hair falls on her face. He tucks it behind her ear. “Please what baby?” 

“Please fuck me, Jungkook. I want you so bad and I want you right now.” she whines.

He grins. “At your service, ma’am.” 

He hears _____’s light chuckle as he gets out of the car, carrying her with him while also making sure she doesn’t hit her head on the hood. She detaches herself from him once they’re out and settles in the back seat. Only after ensuring she’s comfortable enough, Jungkook follows her. 

His body lays on top of her and he wastes no time as their mouths collide. Her finger grip the hair on his nape and he groans with pleasure, his cock going thick. He rubs it on her lower stomach to show her how much he wants her, gaining a moan out of her. 

Jungkook’s head goes fuzzy with every passing second. He almost comes when she lifts her hips up and rubs a slow circle against his cock. 

“Fuck.” He groans, pulling back from the kiss. _____’s cheeks are heated and lips are swollen. He did that. Her man did that. 

Suddenly, he’s grateful for the tinted glass and his big car. 

_____ lifts her head up and kisses his sweaty cheek, swiping his forehead with her palm. “You’re sweating, honey.” 

“Yeah, I tend to do that in your presence. Do you know how hard it was for me to stay sane after seeing you look so unbelievably gorgeous?” 

She passes him a lazy smile, “You’ve always been so good at controlling yourself, haven’t you?” 

“Not anymore.” He sits up, knees on either side of her body and starts unbuckling his belt all the while panting with excitement. His pants slide halfway down letting his cock spring free. Thick, angry and leaking with precum. His shirt goes next.

______’s eyes flash with lust as she bites her lower lip. The straps of her dress have slipped down, leaving her tits bare and open for Jungkook.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.” he leans forward as she runs a hand up his bare spine, hooking her legs over his hip.

“Please.” she whispers. 

A loud thunder outside the car grabs Jungkook’s attention. Nice, he’s so horny he didn’t even realise that it’s raining. Another rumble of thunder drowns their panting breath but he still only focuses on the woman beneath him. The goddess of a woman who trusts him with her body. How lucky he is to call her his own. 

She brushes his hair out of his face, her thumb dusting over the mole on the bridge of his nose before her hand follows the path of his tattooed arm, his rib, his ass, until she wraps a fist around his dick. 

He pushes into her hand. “I need to grab the condoms from the console, angel.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, the car filling with the pants and whimpers before she says, “I want you bare. I’m on the pill.” 

Jungkook has never gone without condom nor has he considered going without one, but this woman right here just asked him to get inside her bare and fuck if it doesn’t tempt him.

And so he gives in, but not before asking, “Are you sure?” 

“As sure as one can be.” 

He nods, bringing his lips back to hers. His hand finds her thong under the dress as he slides it down her legs. Then he strokes a single line up and down her slit, wetting his finger with her cum. When he brings the same finger to his mouth and sucks on it, _____ all but whimpers. 

His cock follows next and he does the same with it, rubbing himself up and down her slit as he coats himself in her before he presses his thumb down on the head of his cock, curls his hips forward, and pushes into her. 

Tortuously slowly, inch by fucking inch. 

She’s so warm and tight for him. He’s not sure how long he can take before he shoots his load inside of her. 

“More.” she pleads, her face morphing into the most beautiful expression of pleasure. 

Jungkook pulls back and pushes again, watching more of a length disappear inside of her. He’s not even halfway in and she’s already crying out his name. 

Leaning in, he bites her neck in an attempt to give her his all. All his love, all his nights and all his life. The question is at the tip of his tongue but considering what happened inside, he quickly holds himself back. 

“You’re doing so good for me, my angel. Taking me so well,” He thrusts again. “You’re made for me, aren’t you?” 

She cries out. 

“What was that?” She throws her head back. “Yes. Oh my god” 

Thrust. “Yes, what baby? I’m gonna need you to say it.” 

Jungkook takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking on it until she cries out again, “I’m made for you. Fuck.”

He releases the nipple with a loud pop. “That’s right you are.” His pelvic bone is flush with hers, ____’s legs as wide as possible to accommodate him. She dusts her fingertips up and down his spine while he slowly kisses along her jaw.

When she pushes her heels into his ass, urging him to move, he pulls out part way before pushing back in again. 

She lets out a moan quickly followed by his own. _____’s hands run over Jungkook’s abs, nipples, and wrap around his shoulders. 

He’s fucking her slowly, taking his time, feeling her body and letting her feel his too. Every brush, every graze, every breath is precious to him.

Soft and intimate. 

So when the next words leave Jungkook’s mouth, he blames it on the moment. “Marry me.”

_____’s eyes which were closed earlier, savoring the very moment, pop open and his movement halts. 

“What?” 

“Fuck. Okay, I know this is not a position or place a woman wants to be proposed in, but I have to say this before I go insane. _____, I know you’re scared and I also know the reason behind it. Of course, I won’t ask you why you kept that part a secret from me, because I respect you and want you to take your time. But baby,” he brushes his thumb over her cheekbone, “I need you to know that I will die before I let anything like that go down between us. I love you so much you don’t even realise. Sometimes I even shock myself with how much I cherish you. You’re a gift to me, a gift which brings out the best not just in me but in everyone she meets.”

He places a small kiss on her forehead before continuing, “I can go anywhere, see everything but it still wouldn’t match the level of affection I hold for you in my heart. Still wouldn’t match the beauty of your smile, you amazing woman. You’re all I have ever wanted. So please, make me the happiest motherfucker in the world by saying ye-”

“Yes” 

‘What?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you. Now will you please shut up fuck me like you promised, husband?” 

He bites her jaw, “Oh, I’ll fuck you so nice you’ll be begging for more, wife.”

Soon enough, _____’s lower lip trembles as her orgasm takes over, and he has the privilege to watch it all. The fluttering of her lashes, the marks of her nail down his arm and the way she calls him her husband again when she’s able to find her words. 

He’s so gone.

About half an hour later when he asks her again as to what changed her mind about marriage, she says something so deep yet in such a casual way, he wants to cry. 

“When I hugged you inside, you didn’t ask questions. You just let me be and that may seem like a miniscule thing for someone else, but for me it was enough. Enough to stay with you until I turn all wrinkly and grey haired.” 

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕲UESS ᝰ! CHAPTER TWELVE

synopsis: katseye lucked out when their team managed to score a-list award-winning actress, y/n l/n to be featured in their upcoming music video for ‘touch’. when the cameras turn off and the doors close, lara feels a little more than just onscreen chemistry with her music video love interest.

RECOMMENDED READ; It’s their first date, come on.

When Lara slammed her car door shut, the last thing she expected was to hear frantic—and somewhat aggressive—yelling from beyond the gates of your LA condo.

She had just come from a very interesting dinner with Megan, whom she swore on all the Gods was more excited for her hangout with you than she was. And parked outside by the sidewalk of the address you sent her, she peered at the lavish gates to what she could see was a modern, slick home. She couldn’t make out what was being desperately shouted out, but she could tell there were two voices—two very familiar voices. And as two no as she felt listening in on the argument, she couldn’t help but worry as it grew louder.

Lara hated when things felt tense, she really did, and that’s coming from a person who thrives in chaos.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew her ability to stay professional wouldn’t last long with y/n. Earlier that day when she would wipe the tears from your cheeks as you caught your breath, she couldn’t help but feel her head ache. It made her wonder if her friends—as much as it gutted her to admit—had a point. The girls’ teasing was usually bearable, but it was getting somewhat intolerable, the way they seemed so convinced she had a “thing” for the actress. They were so deprived of the drama they were used to stirring on Dream Academy, Lara told herself, I’m just their scapegoat for now.

She reached your gate, pushing it open easily. Seeing what looked to be Avantika’s McLaren parked right at the mouth of the driveway. Her eyes followed the stone road leading through a well-groomed garden of seasonal flowers, up to where light shone from the front of the house just out of view.

She walked around towards the front door, raising an eyebrow as the sound of arguing grew more coherant. At the sight of a familiar head of h/c hair, her eyes widened.

She immediately hid, her body stiff and shoulders tense.

Oh shit, you’re arguing. It’s you and Avantika, arguing. Fuck, did you see her peeking? She’s so stupid. Why the fuck would either of you want someone walking in on the two of you arguing? Oh my God, you were crying… Who would ever, in good conscience, make such a pretty woman cry-Goddammit, Lara, what’re you thinking? Get a fucking grip!

“I don’t want to play this game anymore, Avantika, it’s fucking exhausting! You call me over late at night and then you spit me out when you’re done with me,” your voice cracked, the back of your hands wiping the corners of your eyes. “Just fuck off, okay? Leave me alone and don’t text me again.”

“Why’re you being so hysterical? All I wanted to do was talk, it’s not my fault I’m getting called in!” Avantika scoffed with a smirk, shaking her head. “You’re an actor too, for fuck’s sake, I’ve always prided you in the fact we got each other’s jobs.”

“Oh my God, just go ‘do your job’, I don’t care,” you sniffed.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking frustrating,” Avantika grunted, grabbing your wrist when you turned to walk into your house, “Where are you going, we’re not fucking done here.”

"...L-Let go, Avantika," you stuttered, “Fuck, just stop!”

"Why do you like fighting me so much? I just want to be with you and you’re always shitting ok me got this and that." Avantika snapped back, her hands gesturing wildly. "Is this really how you talk to me? I love you."

You flinched, the sudden aggression making you tense.

Lara didn’t think. She immediately jumped from where she hid, eyes narrowing as she saw Avantika’s grip on you tighten. Without a second thought, Lara moved forward, shoving Avantika back hard. The force made Avantika stumble, her eyes wide in shock. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

"Lara?" Avantika gasped, a mix of confusion and anger in her voice as she straightened up. “What’re you even doing here, this isn’t any of your business.”

Lara stood her ground, her fists clenched, her chest rising and falling with the sudden rush of adrenaline. "It’s my fucking business when you’re getting physical. Is this why you kept asking me about the shoot? ‘Cuz you should’ve told me you’ve been seeing my fucking costar,” she stuck her tongue into her inner-cheek, “What’re you doing, Tika?”

Avantika blinked, her surprise clear. "I’m chatting with my girlfriend, whom you’re standing in my view of.”

Lara didn’t break eye contact, her gaze fierce as she kept a protective stance in front of Y/N. "I was gonna come tell y/n a message from my management,” she lied, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Tika, but you’re acting like a fucking lunatic. And I’m not letting you treat her like this."

Avantika stared at her for a moment, then sighed sharply, almost as if realizing she wasn’t going to win this argument. She glanced down at her phone, which buzzed insistently. Her manager was calling again. "I—" she started, but then looked back at Lara with a tight expression. "Whatever, I’m late to my reshoot,” she glanced past Lara’s shoulder at a sniffling you, who stared back in terror, “We’ll continue this later.”

Lara didn���t move until she could no longer hear the car’s exhaust roaring as she sped down the street. Only then did she turn to you, the tension in her shoulders slowly relaxing.

“Are you okay?” she asked, “What the fuck was that?”

You nodded, tossing your head back to flip your hair away. You shot her a smile, as if your eyes weren’t brimming with tears and your cheeks weren’t flushed with emotion. You inhaled deeply, finally meeting her weary eyes. Your wrist still tingling from Avantika’s iron grip, relieved to have Lara intervene. "Yeah… it’s nothing. We just got caught in the moment.”

Lara wasn’t convinced. You were still shaking.

But she knew not to press, just like she didn’t when she caught you crying after lunch earlier that day. So Lara let it be. She just nodded, her hands tucked into her pockets, her stance relaxed but ready. After a beat of silence, she spoke again, her tone light. “You want to get out of here? I came to make things up to you, but I get it if you’re not feeling up to it anymore.”

You shook your head, hand reaching out to lightly grab at her arm. You watched her head dart down at the contact, her arm tensing into a flex. “No, I want to, just—let me grab my jacket.”

The drive to the diner was quiet, filled with the low hum of the car engine and the low sound of Lara’s playlist. You kept your gaze fixed on the world outside, watching the streetlights blur past, their glow softening the edges of everything. Lara didn’t say much, didn’t push, and for that, you were grateful. The silence between you wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable; it was soothing, like a balm for the rawness left behind by Avantika.

Oddly enough, you figured it would be awkward in some fashion, but you didn’t realize how little time you truly had to sit and appreciate silence the way you did with Lara. That’s how you knew, despite her initially negative approach to your (professional) relationship.

When the neon lights of a diner came into view, a small sigh of relief escaped your lips. Lara pulled into a parking spot, cutting the engine before glancing over at you. Her expression was gentle, her eyes filled with an understanding that didn’t need words. “Have you ever been here before?”

You glanced out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the unfamiliar exterior of the diner, shaking your head.

“Well, when I was still training, I would take my friends out here all the time for a break.” She unbuckled her seat belt, eyeing the diner. “They have, arguably, the best milkshakes in all of LA. I mean. I’m talking smooth and sweet blended ice cream with little chunks of strawberry and chocolate in them.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smile at her reaction. “Really? How have I not heard of this place before?”

She smirked, “Only the real VIPs get to know this place.”

She popped her door open, “Come on.” She jogged over to your side, but you had already opened your door. Still, she insisted on closing it as you stepped towards the diner. The tiny bell above the door rung when you stepped in, and she shot the man stood at the register a quick wave before she guided you towards a booth. You made note of the warm hand on the small of your back as she gestured for you to take a seat. She plopped opposite to you.

The diner was warm, its retro charm wrapping around you like a duvet of nostalgia. Red leather booths lined the walls, and a jukebox in the corner played soft tunes from a bygone era.

Across from you, Lara watched you closely, searching your eyes for signs of tears. She felt her chest tighten at the redness around them, but once you glanced back up at her through your lush lashes, she felt her worries flush away. She followed your movements, her eyes softening as they traced the subtle tremor in your fingers. You caught her watching, and for a moment, you felt exposed. But Lara didn’t look away or make you feel self-conscious. Instead, she smiled, just a small curve of her lips that seemed to say, I see you, and it’s okay.

The waitress came, notepad in hand, and Lara let you order first. “Strawberry milkshake, please,” you ordered with a small smile, your voice soft. The waitress smiled back.

“Amazing choice, honey. What can I get you, Lara, dear?”

“The usual’s good, Jen. Can’t go wrong with a good chocolate delight.” Lara chuckled, earning a nice pinch to the cheek.

“Good to see you back, Lara, we’ve missed you. Just ‘cuz you’re all famous now doesn’t mean you can forget us squares, eh?” Jen brushed off Lara’s dismissive wave. She glanced between the two of you, shoving her pen and pad back into her apron. “Now, I won’t impose on your date. I’ll be right back with your orders… What’s your name, honey?”

You swallowed, waiting for Lara to correct the woman’s assumption. She didn’t. “y/n.”

“Well, y/n. You’ve hit the jackpot with this one.”

Once the waitress left, Lara leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table, her fingers loosely intertwined. She watched you with a quiet intensity, not the kind that made you want to shrink away, but the kind that made you feel seen, like you mattered. She didn’t address the waitress’ words, which seemed to bug you—it made you wonder how many times she has had dates here where you sat.

“You like strawberry?” she murmured, almost to herself, but loud enough for you to hear. There was something in her tone, something warm and gentle, as if she was cataloging this small detail about you like it was something precious.

You nodded, unsure of what to say. You felt naked before her, for this woman—a woman you had only known for a week��because she’s seen a side to you only your closest friends would know. It wasn’t just the fact you liked strawberry; Lara seemed to notice everything—the way your shoulders sagged just a little, the way your eyes flicked to the window when you felt overwhelmed, the way you traced circles on the table with your finger when you were lost in thought.

“Y’know, for years I’ve known Avantika, and I’ve never heard her mention a girlfriend once,” Lara began, careful to tread the topic lightly. “She’s one of my best friends, but… she’s always had a short temper. I’m sorry.”

Why was she apologizing? This was so out of character.

“No, it’s fine. We just,” you paused, “We’ve never really told anybody about us… she insisted on keeping things out of the public eye to protect us. But we’re not here to talk about that, right? You didn’t need to ‘make it up to me’ or whatever, it’s been my pleasure being able to work with you both.”

She scoffed, “Absolutely not. Y’know the amount of fire I’ve had to take from Sophia and Dani? The girls are so in love with you, I figured if I could get to know you better, I would too.”

Well, there’s a flutter. Where did the Lara you knew go?

“I had a lot of fun today. I didn’t think I could enjoy fake-riding a motorcycle that much,” you joked, earning a laugh from her.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad I was your partner, doll. Full disclosure, none of the others would have made it that fun.” She whispered, before leaning back into the booth. You laughed, feeling yourself ease into the conversation. “Y’know, I love your smile much more than you crying. Don’t get me wrong, you end modelling careers everyday, but that smile,” she pointed at you grinning softly, “That’s why the world’s in love with you.”

How could she say such things so casually? You’ve been trained your whole life to mask your emotions, to show a different level of self to deceive the cameras. But you couldn’t help the genuine smile that cracked on your features.

The milkshakes arrived, tall glasses with whipped cream and a cherry on top. You took a tentative sip, the sweetness grounding you. Lara watched you, a soft smile playing on her lips as she did the same.

“Don’t be shy,” she said after a while, her voice gentle. “Try it out. I wanna know what you think.”

You took a sip of your milkshake, your eyes widening at the silky texture. “Oh my God.” was all you could utter.

“Good, right?” You nodded, swallowing the mouthfuls after mouthfuls of milkshake. “When I saw you and the girls went out for boba, I knew you’d appreciate a sweet treat.”

After a while, the milkshakes were gone, the diner settling into a peaceful quiet. You and Lara didn’t talk about a lot, mostly about your career and the day you had with her bandmates. By the end, you reached for your wallet, but Lara quickly fought to leave a few bills on the table and stood, waiting patiently for you to slide out of the booth and join her.

The walk back to the car was quiet, the cool night air kissing your cheeks. To your surprise, Lara opened the passenger door for you, her movements easy and unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world for you. You climbed in, murmuring a quiet ���thanks” before she shut the door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. As she started the engine, the soft hum filled the silence between you again. Lara didn’t rush to fill the quiet, instead letting it stretch comfortably as she pulled out of the diner’s parking lot and onto the road. The city’s glow was a faint shimmer in the distance, and the streets were mostly empty, giving the world a hushed, almost sacred feel.

Lara’s hands rested easily on the steering wheel, her fingers tapping lightly to an unheard rhythm. Every so often, she glanced over at you, her gaze lingering just long enough to make sure you were okay. You felt the weight of her attention, not oppressive but gentle, like a soft blanket on a cold night.

“You sure you’re alright?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as if she didn’t want to break the delicate calm that had settled in the car.

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the passing streetlights. “Yeah. I’m... I’m better now.”

In her company, you hadn’t thought of Avantika once since you entered the diner. You didn’t think it was possible to have a breath of fresh air like that, to be able to just have her plague your thoughts like the parasite she was. But Lara made it possible. The city lights gave way to quieter streets, the houses familiar as you neared yours. Lara’s car slowed as she turned onto your block, finally pulling up into your driveway.

She shifted the car into park but didn’t turn off the engine. Instead, she leaned back slightly, one hand resting on the steering wheel while the other dropped to her lap. Her gaze softened as she looked at you.

“You know,” she started, her tone light but sincere, “If you ever… run into trouble again, you have my number.” She didn’t say it explicitly, but you both knew what she was talking about. “I’m one call away, I’ll knock some sense into her.”

You nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your coat.

“Thanks, Lara,” you murmured, glancing up at her. “For the offer and for tonight. I appreciate it. Really.”

Her smile widened just a bit, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Of course, doll. What kind of fake girlfriend would I be if I didn’t take good care of you?”

You swore you thought she was flirting. And much different to how you first approached her, you felt yourself be the one getting flustered. For a moment, neither of you moved, the stillness in the car filled with something warm and unspoken. Lara’s eyes searched yours, not for answers but for understanding, making sure you knew she was someone you could lean on, even if it took time for you to open up.

Finally, you reached for the door handle, pausing as you glanced back at her. “I’ll see you friday?”

Lara nodded, her voice soft. “See you friday.”

You turned back to wave slightly before heading into your house. You hear her car pull out the driveway, feeling for the first time in a long while you could relax. And it was because Lara was there, not fixing everything, but simply being there, offering you the space to heal in your own time.

next. 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ masterlist.

author’s note: where are my lara y/n truthers rn…

taglist: @vivilvr @1luvkarina @meiphobic @yeetaberry127 @lafortezalover @lararajjj @kristalag @meizinisnumberone @vrtualstar @jaythegirlkisser @arihiu @cassiespoiler @nyssalvr @hazel-tanthamore22 @kathleenmikaelson @taikabui @wtfisthisnoclueman @onlyyou-metanoia @yjiminswallet @firstclassjaylee @xochitlisbest @saysirhc @sunshinez4 @fruityg0rl @urmom2314 @cceanvvaves @bowforgodjihyo @blushmimi @justtluvrr @ssamlovr @peanutbutterlover05 @yazzyminny @karli6 @fillthwvoid @urfriendlylocalidiot (taglist open!)

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Stab me.

Warning : blood, death

Genre : angst

Synopsis : Imagine the final game is the same one as in season 1 but it’s just you and Thanos

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // it’s short UGH

As you entered the empty field, you recognized the place. You had played the first game here, Younghee still in place, her body facing the wall but her head turned to you, as if she was still watching you.

Thanos was by your side, almost in his own world as he had already popped one of his pills in his mouth, moving his hands to the rhythm of the square guard speaking, explaining the rules.

You wanted to smile at his antics and relax but you couldn’t.

The more he spoke, the more you recognized the rules, the game. Though you played it a lot as a kid, you didn’t have for habit of winning it.

You had expected the last game to be a one versus one. One lives, one dies. But you had hoped for a game where two could win. If only.

You squeezed the knife in your pocket. You were ready. You breathed slowly, trying to calm yourself and your panicking heart.

“Three. If by any chance one player is unable to proceed with the game, the last one to stand wins.” The guard finished as he turned around, stopping you in the center of the field where lines were drawn on the ground like in your childhood, but much bigger.

“What happens to the uh, player who loses ?” You asked, voice shaky, hoping for the best.

As Thanos was about to reply that you’d be two winners, the guard spoke.

“Death. Like in any other games.”

“Huh ? What ?” Thanos said, before looking at you, wide eyed.

“Now, let the game begin.” The guard said, walking away from the giant squid on the ground.

Thanos slowly moved to the tip of the squid, ready to play the game though he was trying to think of a plan to get out of here. He had the fork from the bathroom fight and stole a knife from the last meal, he could kill the seemingly unarmed guard. But then what ?

As he turned around he noticed you hadn’t moved.

“I fucking hated that game.” You said with a disgusted face, pulling the knife out of your pocket and before you could think more about your actions, you stabbed yourself in the chest, taking it out and planting it again. You grimaced. Sweating. Fuck, so painful !

Thanos was horrified. Frozen in shock.

You tried to speak but let out a cough instead, some blood spilling out of your mouth, ruining your sweet face.

You pulled the knife out one last time and let it fall down. More blood gushing and spilling out, staining your suit. You fell to your knees before planting face first into the ground, gasping.

Thanos’ eyes were wide as he thought he was having a bad trip, but when he saw you remain on the ground, unmoving, he finally stumbled toward you, rushing, pulling you against him.

“What the fuck ! Why did you do that ?!” He yelled, his voice and hands were shaking. He didn’t know what to do.

You raised your hand slowly, gently caressing his face, before going to his hair, enjoying their fluffiness, a soft smile on your bloodied lips. He grabbed your hand, squeezing it against his heart.

Fuck.

“[Name]… Oh my god…” He started, looking at your face then at your wounds. “Why did you do that !? Huh ?!” He yelled, shaking you slightly, not understanding your thought process. How could you do this ? You were supposed to be the one winning. Not him.

“So…rry.” You replied, struggling to speak. It was hurting so bad you could hardly breathe. “Am selfish.” Your voice was so quiet, barely audible, like strangled.

He frowned.

“What do I do ? What do I do !?” He yelled, frustration and fear engulfing him. He placed one hand on your stab wounds, trying to stop the bleeding, your blood seeping between his fingers, getting stuck inside his rings. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You squeezed his hand, feeling your end approach more and more.

You wanted to speak more, to tell him how much you love him, how you love loving him, how thankful you felt for his feelings, even when you’re arguing, clashing, fighting.

You wanted to tell him you are too afraid to live without him, on your own, with your grief for only company. But he can do it, he’s resourceful, has dreams, he can have connexions, find help. Start anew with the money. Be a fucking worldwide rapper like he had planned. You know it will be hard, but he can do it. You trust him.

You coughed and wheezed more blood out as you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

You wanted to tell him to kiss you, one last time, so you could die without forgetting the taste of his lips, though you never forgot it. But it’s for good measure and to erase the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

You were so afraid.

You grabbed his collar, wanting to pull him in but tears glided down your face instead. It was so fucking painful. Fuck…

You let go of him, hand falling to the ground as you drew out your last breath, Thanos was holding you tightly, still screaming and cursing at the guard to help, to fucking do something, not noticing your death until after a good minute.

“No ! [Name] !” He yelled, shaking you. Your empty eyes looking at the sky, a flock of birds passing by. His head fell down, devastated, defeated, heartbroken.

He looked at the knife.

He wanted to do the same. To end it, once and for all. He had been too much of a coward to do it on the bridge, now was his fucking chance.

But he is still a fucking coward.

It’s gonna hurt, isn’t it ? If I stab myself in the heart ? It’s gonna be painful ? Will we really be reunited ? Will you be happy to see me ?

How did you do it ? Why ? How could you ?

He let out a frustrated scream before pulling you closer.

“Fuck ! Why did you do that ?” He asked, quietly, kissing your forehead.

Thanos stayed like this, holding you, until he heard footsteps coming from behind him, two masked O approaching with a big black box to put your lifeless body in.

“Don’t approach ! Go away !” He grabbed the knife, swinging it around, ready to fight them, still holding you. “Fucking bitchless bastards, I’ll kill y-”

The square guard had knocked him out with his gun.

It took a lot of time for Thanos to come back to the rap scene. Scared he would fail you. Fail the second chance you gave him. But he was doing his best, releasing songs and samples every now and then to not be forgotten. He wasn’t really successful, forgotten since his appearance on TV, but he did get himself a small fanbase, a mix of the 1st day fans and new ones.

Though his debts and lack of money weren’t really known, people still noticed the change in his entourage and the people he worked with.

“Do you think he stole the money from his fans ?” A girl asked her friend, reading an article about Thanos’s comeback. “A bit like that YouTuber that disappeared some years ago after scamming his viewers with crypto money. Ah, what was his name ?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think his fans are rich enough to give him that much money. Maybe he won the lottery ?” Her friend replied, looking over her shoulder to read the article as well. “But he’s not the type of guy to hide he won it, so I truly wonder too.”

[kristiliqua]

[read this after reading the tags because fuck i hit the tag limit LMFAOO]

— and jason (n the bunch) definitely makes fun of him for it because holy shit you absolute tryhard (he copes and seethes every time tim manages to snipe his slow ass dynamo — which is basically every fucking time tim is there . he has to rush tim like a fucking madman in order to actually splat him , and then usually dies right after bc he rushed into their base , tunnelvisioning tim and tim only , as a fucking Dynamo . tldr he calls him a tryhard to cope)

(and do Not get me wrong ; its not as if jason’s a thoughtless or bad player [i hate ppl calling him a brute . like istg he’s smart too] . its just that dynamo vs charger is a horrible matchup for him , as the dynamo . he Does manage to get tim without rushing him sometimes , but he needs coordination with his team distracting tim or smth in order to get the advantage he needs , since theyre both equally skilled pretty much . but a 1v1 is just Hard in this matchup [said by a dynamo And charger main . trust me on this one LMAO] , and he usually just gets sniped in those situations — its either a trade or death for him most of the time . thats not a jason thing ; its a charger vs dynamo thing lol)

golly i’ve been talking abt this too long (esp abt tim and jason when tim is nowhere to be found in the og post LMFAO Uhm .! i just like them . jason n tim are my boys) . in fact im going to yap more bc i feel i havent given dami enough appreciation

jason would totally love rolling damian over while dami’s sharking him . he’d laugh in his face and clip it on his switch , before saving the clip on his phone or smth just in case damian attempts to delete it

see it as a punishment for trying to shark a dynamo as a splatana/octobrush instead of just ,,, outmaneuvering the dynamo . bc both splatana and octobrush have good enough range to easily take down a dynamo (he outmaneuvers a lot too ofc ; he just tests his luck sometimes by sharking around jason , wanting to surprise him lol)

they are a Unit on the same team tho . damian as the faster splatana/octobrush supporting jason’s slower dynamo/stamper (he’d play that too . def didnt start playing it bc it pairs rlly well with [damian’s] splatana ,, no siree ,,,) as they both kill the enemy team with terrifying efficiency . (i’d say they’d be extra good with tim making callouts in comms — bc ofc im still thinking abt tim too istg 😭 — but i also feel like neither of them would listen to him half of the time . and take joy in his misery whenever they lose , ignoring their own misery from losing in favor of making fun of tim and blaming each other for losing [like “if you hadnt died when they started pushing we could have defended successfully , todd !” / “oh MY BAD that i TRADED with their stupid quick-respawning motherfucker and couldnt paint under my feet to get away from their bomb because im a fucking DYNAMO —” (can you tell i definitely main dynamo and have experienced similar situations . WHY is it so FUCKING BAD at PAINTING UNDER YOUR FEET . MY GOD .)])

anyway holy shit thats it im done Fucking Hell . here’s your essay op ! i love the art . it has clearly stirred my love for batfam and splatoon (im sorry LMFAOAO)

is this too niche

[somerandomcockroach]

maybe write a Decepticon Prowl fic with someone? :0 so your like constantly bouncing ideas off and can take turns writing to avoid burnout and you both and like be the firsts to read each new chapter like when yall proof read or something? Idk just a thought.

If i followed this, I'd give prowl too much power...

Pfffht, I have a bad case of "boring writing" and "closed inside my own head", not sure if I am even capable of bouncing something directly with someone XDD I wanna see what plots people make with him and in what situations put, wanna see his interactions with decepticons once he is among them. Because if autobots are monkeys in circus decepticons are alligators in the pond Oooooh yes, he is a big threat to autobots since he has a wild range of freedom, but I personally still think he isn't as overpowered here. Autobots will not kill you for all your mistakes, there are no rats until they were sent from enemies. Decepticons might kill you 👍So he will have to be 10 steps forward than all of them to find the most acceptable path where he has less chances of being beaten up to death. I swear to god I wanna see him being treasured by Megatron, Megatron being even scared of him. He keeps his best and loyal as close to him. I love how he said to Starscream one time that he obeys to him if he obeys to decepticon's case. I can see Prowl saying that to someone and Megatron having the smug smile on his face. I have my opinions on when he joined and why and so on. I think that he operates as a tactician under "Prowl" (and known only among closer circle of Megatron) but among regular decepticons he is known as a "Barricade" on a low communication work to lessen the chances of others to find out who he is and kill him. Because this is so easy to kill him, he is a bad fighter. I think Shockwave hates him pffht. (I have to be honest I know so little of the decepticon version of him as a character so I don't know what fruit he is) Scientists have their own meetings and I headcanon that such meetings are a taboo to intervene with false info, exactly what Prowl does. Soundwave might also hate him for how his cassettes might be treated like a chess figures? Idk I know even less about Soundwave ahah. So he might have an awful medical treatment here if any at all since he is just. Not loved? "Megatron's dog on leash" I can see him being thrown out by his own who got enough of him, with ripped off audials and comms, with no way of tracking him, on the planet like Junkion to let him die, but Jazz (aka Meister) also was here on operation, so Prowl ends up with autobots because of course Ratchet will not let even decepticon die. And no one knows real "Prowl". So he ends up in this clownery, covered as a Barricade low class coms decepticon who "defected" because had enough and now "Meister" keeps a close optic on him. Because he has broad "Jazz" net. He has a lot of information that autobots don't know. And things that Barricade says do not connect strings. Oh I better shut up

[skyfallscotland]

Things that got me a little frustrated with Onyx Storm in no particular order 💔

Please be nice, this is an addendum to my main Onyx Storm review post, and there is also a post about things I loved 🙏 I'm just a sensitive heart with superior pattern recognition (I'm mentally ill lol) and I struggle when I don't understand things—and I understood nothing.

I find it really hard to just go with the flow, I hate it when I don't understand things, and being confused just didn't make for a good reading experience for me. So here goes:

The magic system being entirely retconned.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper. I’m marked by their magic as a rider now, as their rider.

It's consistently referred to as "their" magic or "Andarna's magic" or "Tairn's magic" in the first two books, but in this one, the continent has magic and outside it, they're powerless?

Oh, except Vi for...reasons?

The marked ones all having second signets? This felt like fan service or a retcon. Why haven't any of them gone crazy? Because statistically some of them should have (and it would have at least been interesting). And if Liam could wield ice and use farsight, and that wasn't initially an error, why not wield it when Deigh was literally being chewed to death?

Continuous mentions of Xaden hearing actual fucking thoughts for god's sake that just get dropped and never picked up again? Par for the course. Don't even talk to me about it, I'm done.

Sgaeyl not talking to Xaden all book? Does she realise she would have died too, they all would have died if he hadn't done what he did? Mum pls the silent treatment sucks (this might be a personal trauma so we can probably scratch it, actually)

Andarna leaving then coming back almost immediately? I get it, she wanted to meet her shitty family, but this would have had more impact if she'd stayed when they were on the island. It felt like I got teary at her exit for nothing, like it was a ploy. I think I have whiplash.

Violet saying quite literally her most pressing need is information and then deciding no actually it's to know what her baby dragon is dreaming about in her dreamless sleep? Is this a joke? 😭

Violet is suddenly Adrian Ivashkov 💀 And what’s that got to do with who they are at their core? I’m lost! 😭

Also, those not-dreams never being explained? Like we know it's Berwyn calling him, but seriously Xaden, click on pls!

Xaden's mother showing up for...no reason? Really? Nice emotional arc, I enjoyed it, it was one of my favourite sequences, but she wasn't important to the story at all and we just?? Left?????

(I also want to punch her in the face, how dare she)

Finding out Halden's been doing...something??? At the Isles this whole time?? For Reasons, I guess??? I don't know, someone else might need to explain that to me.

(How I felt ^) Oh! And him being a twin? Basic information we could have known before—and I still don't know what happened to Alic, really. Like I want the whole story? 🥺

Violet's hair, the temple, all of that someone's going to have to explain to me like I'm five too because it's not clicking, I'm sorry. Also the temples/priestesses have magic? Their own different type of magic? And they aren't venin either? What makes a venin, a venin? My head is still spinning.

Aetos being back defying all logic (the aide to exile to in charge of everything pipeline really is something) and then he disappears entirely and is irrelevant? 😭 Why bring him back at all? What was the reason?

This is like the continuity that says Degrensi kicked Varrish out for being too torture-y and then they put him in charge of torturing kids, and then Degrensi followed Varrish's orders (even though he's below him in the chain of command and he hates him) last year to keep Xaden away from Violet all the time, but wait, now Degrensi gives no fucks about following orders???? I'm?? I just spent so much time being like wait, what?

Xaden who can literally command shadows for some reason not being able to sneak into Violet's room? And that same Xaden having zero control so they can't have sex, but then suddenly when it was time for another evenly spaced out sex scene, him being totally fine????? Is it ✨a mindset✨ ??

Violet having her memories wiped? For? Reasons???? Seriously for what purpose could the literal wedding ceremony part not have been remembered, please, that’s just mean Rebecca.

Aaric just Not telling anyone about his signet even though it would have meant more people living??? Aaric's name being CAMLAEN?????

I get that that’s a literary device, but on top of everything else I still felt like I was chasing my tail 😩

Professor Riorson teaching everyone for months, incl that signets have perfect counters, like his shadows and Violet's lightning, then sending Violet off to face the lightning/storm wielding gal while he went to face a guy he's literally incapable of killing? HELLO, should you not realise and switch?! Don’t be a dumb dumb (also a literary choice but it annoyed me so it’s here, please never battle the elite four Xaden, you’d fail).

Also oh look there's no rune on Brennan's neck like the one on his hand—sorry WHAT? are we implying that's from Naolin mending him or what? Do you know about it? Fucking say so, you sure as fuck haven't told us Vi???? It really bothers me that Violet apparently knows things and we don't. I feel like that's what third-person-POV is for, if you want to do things like that.

I still don’t know why venin can channel within the wards at all? And the wardstone was so easily altered after all that drama in IF?

Why aren't we reading Lilith's journals? Vi, sweetheart, please, give me some joy here.

Where are the other foster kids??? I still can't see how they're safe and not leverage, especially now it's looking like it will be a full-on secession bid once more.

Tyrrendor mines talladium?!

SURPRISE GRANDMA??? PLEASE!!

As you can see, I have a lot of questions—more than I had at the end of the last book, because none of those were answered, so I just have...this bigger pile of questions.

If you can read along and not think about any of these things and just not be bothered by the not knowing of it all, then I'm jealous of you. I really, really wish I could, but that's just not how my brain works and as someone with a mental illness I get tired of having to defend that to other people, it makes me feel like shit, honestly. I don’t want to think about these things, I just do. Like yeah, I hate my brain too but I have to live with it.

There were plenty of things I liked about this book, but my overall experience was that it felt messy, chaotic, and overwhelming.

Even the end—I still don't understand what happened fully, and I know that's on purpose, but after not understanding anything the whole book and having my questions from the last book go unanswered, I don't exactly appreciate it as a literary technique, I just find it frustrating 😟

In any case, these are just my out-of-pocket, personal opinions typed up late at night with zero filter, please don't come for me (lol), you don't need to agree—in fact, I know people don't, I ran a poll—this is just...how I'm feeling right now. It's a sucky feeling, but it is what it is.

I hope I can do a re-read at some point and enjoy it more, and get a better grasp on things, but for now...🖤

[milkb0nny]

The Rubber Smell Of Your Hair

...his agony made you forget your hate for him

Pairing: Dean x street racing fem!reader

Summary: You and Dean had shared some sort of relationship in the past, but the ending of your bond was painful and messy. Since then, you haven’t seen him for years, until you witness a horrible accident right before your eyes. And to your demise, the victim were the Winchester brothers.

Note: This is inspired by the last episode of season 1, where a demon crashes its truck into Dean‘s Impala. I love writing comforting angst so so much.

Content: breakup history, platonic Sam x reader, swearing, blood, spn violence, reader being a street racer, injuries, heavy angst, comfort

Word Count: 1,5k

The loud and deep sound of engines roared through the industrial area, the crowd cheered as you slid around the curve to drive onto the empty road leading through a forest. Your wheels flinging your car sideways, you were dancing on the edge of control. You were neck and neck with your best friend, both of you laughing into the night as the race consumed every ounce of your focus.

Your two souls sped through the empty road, your rearview mirror was filled with the aggresive headlights of the car behind you.

Then you saw it.

A flash of shattered headlights. The metallic gleam of twisted steel. Smoke curling into the night sky, thick and acrid. Two other cars which were broken into pieces, lying in the ditch a few hundred meters away.

You immediately turned the hazard warning lights on and hit the break, making sure your best friend would get the message.

“Yo, what are you doing?” your friend’s voice crackled through the comms as he slammed on the brakes, sending his car into a messy halt.

You didn’t answer. You barely registered the words as you skidded to a stop. The wreck was off to the side of the road, half-hidden by shadows, but there was no mistaking the crumpled remains of a black '67 Impala.

Your blood turned to ice.

That was baby.

You were running before you knew what you were doing, gravel crunching beneath your boots as you sprinted toward the wreckage. You didn’t notice the cold, and you didn’t notice the screams of your friend behind you.

Was this a fever dream?

The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber burned your nostrils, mingling with something far more sinister… sulfur. You knew what that meant, and it explained why there was no victim in the other car.

“Dean? Sam?” you called, your voice cracking.

No answer.

You rounded the corner of the wreckage, your stomach twisting at the sight before you. Sam was sprawled near the edge of the road, blood pooling beneath his head. His face was pale, a deep red running down his temple and across his cheek. He was barely breathing.

Dean was slumped against the Impala’s crushed door, his face smeared with blood, his chest heaving with ragged, shallow breaths. His right arm hung limply at his side, his leather jacket torn to shreds.

Your heart clenched. “Oh my God,” you whispered, dropping to your knees beside him.

„Fuck,“ your friend muttered, watching the scene unfold. „I‘ll call 911 and some others over here. We need to get them out of there!“ He yelled in concern, not knowing that you knew them.

„Shit, this can’t be happening,“ your voice trembled as you kneeled down.

Dean’s eyelids fluttered, his lashes sticky with blood. When his gaze focused on you, confusion flickered across his face, quickly replaced by something softer… relief, hope.

“What… are you doing…?” he rasped, his voice barely audible.

Tears blurred your vision. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since the night he broke your heart. But none of that mattered now. No matter what he had done to your fragile heart, he was fighting with life and his brother was in a serious condition.

“Don’t talk… shut up…,” you said, your voice shivering badly as you pressed your hands to the wound on his side. Blood seeped between your fingers, warm and terrifyingly steady.

So much blood.

“What the hell happened?”

“Demons…” Dean groaned, his head rolling to the side. “Ambush. Came outta nowhere.”

You glanced at Sam, panic clawing at your chest. He was unconscious, his breaths shallow and uneven.

Sammy, a man you once had known as one of your best friends.

And he looked like a corpse.

“Dean, I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”

Dean smirked weakly, blood staining his teeth. “Bossy as ever…”

“Fucking shut up,” you choked, your tears falling freely now.

You turned your attention to Sam, your hands shaking as you checked his pulse. It was faint but there. Relief flooded through you, though it was short-lived. They were both in bad shape, and you had no idea how much time you had before the demons came back to finish the job.

The ambulance needed to arrive now.

Your friend helped Dean with his wounds, as you covered Sam‘s cold body with all you had; your sweater, your jacket, your emergency blanket. He needed to stay warm.

But, no one came.

„Shit,“ you muttered, exchanging panicked glances with your friend.

He was also uncertain, and total chaos reigned in him, „Why the fuck is no one coming?“

„Demons,“ you whispered, „Quickly! We‘ll get them to the ER by ourselves.“

There was no time to explain.

Somehow, you managed to haul Sam into his car, his weight almost too much for you to bear. You laid him across the passenger seat, as gently as you could before turning back to Dean. Your friend‘s car only seated two, meaning he would join your vehicle.

“Sammy…” Dean murmured as you crouched beside him, your hands hovering uncertainly over his battered body.

“I lied,” he whispered, his green eyes locking onto yours. “About cheating… I never-”

“Dean,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “Not now.”

You slid an arm around his waist, as well as your friend, and pushed him to his feet, ignoring his pained groans. Every step toward the car felt like an eternity, but you didn’t stop until he was seated in the passenger seat, slumped against the window.

Dean‘s aura, such a strangely familiar one, pained your heart.

The drive to safety was a blur, your mind racing as fast as the car. Dean drifted in and out of consciousness beside you, his head swinging with every bump in the road.

By the time you reached the ER, parking in the driveway, your hands were trembling so badly you could barely cut the engine.

No, not Sammy, not Dean.

Your friend and you dragged Sam out first, nurses rushing outside to transport him. Illuminating lights, unclear shouts and bustling people surrounded you. You felt so dizzy, so overwhelmed. And when you gazed down on Sam, all you could feel was pain. Sam‘s chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, but he was alive.

Then you turned to Dean.

His face was pale, the blood loss taking its toll. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, out of reality, as you crouched beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

“…Dean?,” you asked, your voice softer now, the anger and fear melting away.

He smirked faintly, his lips stained with blood. “You’re still the best damn driver I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, a wet, broken sound that was more a sob than anything else. “You’re an idiot. A fucking idiot, Dean.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes fluttering closed.

You leaned closer, ordering some more nurses to drag his weak body inside, to help him, and to patch the brothers up.

His breath hitched as they lifted him, his lips mumbling some agonizing words.

“Stay… please.”

And then, his eyes fell shut, and his body collapsed.

You could only watch how the Winchester brothers were carried inside, your eyes filled with tears, and your chest clenched together. You broke down, crying and sobbing - the worry was consuming you.

Your friend rushed to you, taking you into his arms, pulling you close into his embrace. He noticed you knew those men, and he was aware their condition pained you horribly.

„Come, we‘ll get you something to drink and wait for the doctors to call you,“ he softly said.

…

The minutes stretched, the hours passed, the time slowed down and every more second you lost hope. All you saw were nervous doctors, jumping from room to room, and tense nurses rushing to get more bandages, more painkillers…

Your head was filled with the pictures of the accident, how they were drenched in blood - and as you sat there in the waiting room, sobbing silently, you begged to god to spare their lives.

„Miss,“ a male voice brought you back into reality, “They have woken up.“

Your eyes widened, your heart lifted and your tears broke out, as you let out a long, depriving cry, burying your face into your friends shoulder. Your knees nearly buckled as relief washed over you.

Your steps to their room were shaky, and your face puffy and splotched in paleness and red. You didn’t care how broken you’ve looked, you only wanted to see them alive. Two sets of weak eyes glanced at you, and whereas Sam was surprised to see you, Dean smiled softly.

„Dear god,“ you whispered, rushing over to Sam‘s bed first.

His confusion was evident, but he didn’t say a word. He was more than glad to see you, though there was no strength to welcome you.

You placed your ice cold hand on Sam‘s cheek, smiling at him while tears rolled down your face.

„Look at you, Sammy,“ you sobbed, „…you guys are alive.“ You cried out.

Feeling warmth in his skin comforted you so much, and then, your eyes wandered up to Dean.

The man who broke up with you a few years ago. He told you he cheated, that he slept with someone else, but now you understood. Dean did not cheat, he wanted you far away from demons and ghosts, wanting you to be safe and living.

You turned to Dean. He was propped up on the bed, his green eyes locking onto yours. Despite his injuries, he smirked faintly. You stepped over to his injured body.

On his forehead a deep wound, and his whole body stiff, as if the pain burned him from the inside.

„Dean,“ you exclaimed gently. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you crossed the room, sitting on the edge of his bed.

„Hey there, beautiful,“ he groaned in pain, whincing when you placed your hand softly on his.

He was cocky, even now.

Dean was unbelievable.

„Why didn’t you just… tell me? Why did you lie to me?!“ You asked, your lower lip trembling and your hands shaking terribly. „You hurt me so much.“

His smirk faltered, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I thought I was protecting you. I didn’t want this life to touch you.. I wanted to keep you safe. And I knew you wouldn’t just let me go-„

„So you had to hurt me?“

Dean’s fingers squeezed yours weakly. “I regret it. I’m sorry. For all of it.”

For the first time in years, you let yourself believe him. Let yourself forgive him.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said quietly, his voice rough but sincere. He let out a strained breath. “I thought lying was the only way to keep you safe.”

Your chest tightened. “But you lied to me, Dean. You told me you cheated-” You cut yourself off, your voice breaking.

“I never did,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours, full of regret. “I didn’t cheat. I just said that… to get you to walk away.“

His voice grew softer, a raw honesty you hadn’t heard in years. “I never stopped loving you. But I was too scared to let you see how dangerous this life really is. I couldn’t let you become part of it. If today… you had been with us- you would…”

Dean didn’t dare to finish this sentence.

The thought alone was painful.

Dean’s hand tightened around yours, the weight of his regret heavy in his touch. His voice cracked slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry for everything. For hurting you the way I did.”

You took a shaky breath, the years of anger and hurt flooding back, but something else too… something warmer.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead.

“I hated you for making me feel like I wasn’t enough. But hearing you say that… it means something. I’m so glad you’re breathing…”

Dean’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away another tear. “You were always enough. You still are. I just… I see how much I messed up.”

You stayed there, by his side, for a long moment, the weight of everything between you finally sinking in.

“I don’t know if I can just forget everything, Dean,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. “But I can try. We can try. If you’re really ready for that.”

Dean’s eyes softened, and despite the pain, he managed a weak, genuine smile.

And in that moment, with the years of pain between you, you knew that maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Dean smiled, a small but hopeful expression on his blood-streaked face. “'Cause I don’t plan on losing you again.”

You smiled through your tears, feeling something deep inside you begin to heal. It wouldn’t be easy, but it felt like maybe there was a chance for you both after all.

[rayyanishere1]

A Day in the Life of a Loser: Loser Ford AU

Chapter 4: Science Fair

25th April 1970

Good morning, my dearest diary! Today is the day of the science fair!

I managed to finish my perpetual motion machine just in time and it's completely functional. All I have to do now is safely transport it to the school. I'm gonna win first place, I'm sure of it!

All the other participants had already set up their projects a few days ago, but I'm sure there's still a few good spots left. Just hope I don't have to take the dingy spot with the ceiling leak.

Well, I'm off! Time to blow those judges' socks off!

∆∆∆

"Sixer! Are you ready or not?"

"Yes, yes, coming!"

Ford looked at himself in the mirror and for once, didn't completely hate himself. Hell, he felt proud!

He rushed outside to Stan and loaded his project into the cargo. It was still moving, as a perpetual motion machine should.

"You're excited, aren't you?"

"Of course! How could I not be?"

Stan laughed and ruffled his brother's hair. Ford protested, complaining that he spent a while making his hair look good.

"It doesn't matter how you look, nerd. Your motion-whatever-machine—"

"Perpetual motion machine!"

"Yeah, that, if what you said about it being 'impossible' to make is true, you've got a fortune under your belt."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

Ford carefully carried his project into the school's gymnasium and scanned for a place to set up. Nothing much he can see from here...

Wandering around the many tables, he failed to find a spot for himself. There had to be at least one place, right?

Just as he dreaded. The only empty space was a dark, dingy area with the leak in the ceiling.

Well, no turning back now. He reluctantly set his machine on the table and covered it with a tablecloth so that it wouldn't get wet. Who knows what could happen if it did!

"Ford, help me out over here!"

Hearing his brother in need of assistance, he rushed over.

Drip, drip, drip.

The judges roamed the gymnasium, taking note of the sheer amount of baking soda volcanoes. They should just ban them at this point.

∆∆∆

Things seem to be going well. The judges don't look impressed at the other presentations. Lots of baking soda volcanoes.

Oh, I see them! Are they skipping my table?

∆∆∆

"Hey! Aren't you going to judge mine?"

Oh, the poor thing, they hadn't even noticed him! The judges walked over, seeing how the area was... Less than appealing.

Ford pulled out a fairly thick stack of cue cards and hyped up his project.

"For millennia, people tried and failed to create perpetual motion machines. But here with you today is—!"

Dramatically, he yanked the tablecloth away to reveal his perpetual motion machine! Except for the fact that it wasn't in motion.

"Wait, what? What happened to my machine?!"

He frantically looked over it, trying to figure why his perpetual motion machine had stopped.

"Perpetual motion means nonstop, isolated movement, kid. It violates the first few laws of thermodynamics."

"Try again next year."

How could this have happened? It was working just this morning, and the days before that! It literally never stopped! That was the whole point!

As Ford desperately searched, he felt a drop of cold water fall on his head.

Sure enough, the tablecloth hadn't completely protected his machine from the dripping water above.

So close, Ford. So close.

A familiar set of footsteps came up behind him.

"Hey, Ford? You alright? Where are the judges?"

Ford failed to compose himself in time and broke down. He barely forced out a few words between sobs and hiccups as Stan tried to decipher his gargled speech.

Soon enough, Ford gave up on verbal communication and gestured to his broken machine. He wiped his tears, trying to get a good look at it.

There seemed to be some exposed circuitry on the back. How had he never noticed that?

He reached out towards it and promptly got shocked. Right, wet hand. Not a great idea to touch exposed electronics.

"Ow!"

Ford quickly retracted his hand, wincing in pain. God, today was a gift that kept on giving. Not in a good way, but you get the point.

Stan rushed to Ford's side, making sure he wasn't seriously injured. He's no expert, but an electrical shock didn't sound good.

"Let's just get outta here."

He led them both outside and back to Stan's car. Being in a more private space, Ford's waterworks restarted at full force.

"Everything was going so well! I told everyone that I was going to win—I was! I did the impossible! I forgot to tighten a few loose screws and now everything's ruined—"

He rambled on and on about how he messed up everything, how stupid he was for not noticing such a thing, the whole shebang.

There was really no room for Stan to interject and stop Ford from spiralling seeing as he was talking a mile a minute.

Stan opted to wait it out.

He drove them to the nearest convenience store and got them snacks. Jellybeans for Ford and Toffee Peanuts for himself.

"You feelin' better, bud?"

"No."

Honestly? Stan expected that answer.

Ford stared off into space, not bothering to eat his jellybeans.

"Wanna go home?"

That seemed to snap him out of his trance.

"What's Pa gonna think of all this? What are we gonna tell him?"

Welcome back, panic! Didn't miss you whatsoever!

"He's gonna find out eventually... I'll talk to him."

On the drive home, Ford looked outside the window. He eyed the beach, thinking, how difficult would it be to swim from New Jersey to Europe?

"We're here."

Seems like Filbrick wasn't home yet. That's good! I guess?

Ford bolted upstairs without a word. He needed to unwind. Write in his diary. Anything.

He was practically scribbling on the pages with how fast and sloppily he was writing. His thoughts went faster than his hand, even the ink in the damn pen couldn't keep up.

∆∆∆

Today did not go as planned. A leak in the gymnasium's ceiling made it's way inside my machine and blew it's circuits.

I humiliated myself in front of the judges.

I humiliated myself.

∆∆∆

It was only when tears started to fall on the page did Ford realize he was crying. Again.

Maybe he should just go to bed.

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[lesbiansanemi]

My roommate has not been to work in like two weeks atp……

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[tyresdeg]

ugly crying

[camellcat]

WTFFF I thought thirteen would be my new girl crush love of my life heart eyes wife you-came-after-twelve-you-must-be-better-than-they're-all-saying bbygirl and then I had to sit down and watch as she told a man who (if he were not a murderer, of course) literally every regeneration before her would've LOVED and FULLY SUPPORTED that "the systems aren't the problem. how people use and exploit the system, that's the problem. people like you" </33333 !?!?

[kaiserkisser]

today is such a stark contrast to yesterday in how much i fucking hate today (vent/rant in tags bc i forgor to do it on my vent one)

[matt-murdick]

aegon targaryen they could never make me like you

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D