#one bad joke away to make you lose your sanity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonlight-prose · 4 months ago

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #my writing

1K notes · View notes

samirant · 5 months ago

Text

Dungeon Crawler Carl & You

*taps microphone*

Okay, so I've been going off about Dungeon Crawler Carl for months now and I do not see it stopping at any point, so let's see if I can entice one or two of you to join in my madness.

DCC is Lit RPG and written like a video game come to life, from the point of view of the contestants trapped within the game. There are levels to conquer and loot boxes and quests and an AI running things that has a very tenuous hold on stability to begin with and doesn't keep it for very long.

Carl is just... a guy. He's just a guy with a traumatic backstory that he's squished deep down inside himself because he doesn't like drama and he thinks he's doing just fine because it's done, you know? It's in the past, can't change it, can't hurt him anymore.

(It can hurt him. It does hurt him.)

The world as we know it is destroyed in a split second, Carl surviving by mere happenstance and the only reason he goes into the dungeon is that he will literally freeze to death otherwise. At no point is this guy searching for glory or thinking he's a savior, he's just trying to survive another day. That Carl happens to have his ex-girlfriend's prize-winning tortie Persian cat with him is a coincidence - and it turns out to be his major lifeline in the entire series. Princess Donut is his partner in crime, his bestie for life and if he ever loses her, he will lose everything. Goodbye to the last vestiges of his sanity.

The first couple levels are pretty contained, Carl & Donut learning the ropes and how to survive every encounter with increasingly powerful enemies who want nothing more than to see them dead, the eyes of the universe and the corporations running the shitshow ever focusing on them and trying to eke out as much profit as possible at the same time.

Then they meet other survivors - both good and misled - and the beauty of humanity comes out, the sacrifices they are willing to make for one another, the knowledge that they aren't likely to survive, but they make the right choices anyway because dying might be bad, but letting each other down is worse.

The secondary characters grow in complexity with every level. Where it was once just Carl & Donut, it becomes dozens of characters, from all over the world, all of them gifted in their own way, all of them fighting as best they can, some of them betrayed, some of them dying, some of them choosing to go out on their own terms. Men and women and animal alike, they are individual and committed to the greater good.

Matt Dinniman has written a series that takes an emotional toll on its readers: pain, loss, horror, humor, desperation, walking through life with an unrelenting grief. There are dick jokes and drug-dealing, lava-spitting llamas and riffs on Wonderwall and lines like: Trauma does that, I thought. It's an explosion with your heart at the center. It changes everything all at once.

Also, there are velociraptors.

And a decapitated, talking sex doll head that wants to kill everyone's mothers.

It's a LOT of stuff going on, all right?

And just as you think the story can't get any better, enter Jeff Hays. Our audiobook narrator, our man of a hundred distinct voices. Good god, he's phenomenal. I've listened to so many books and while there are some very talented narrators out there, Jeff Hays leaves them in the motherfucking dust. I honest to god thought he was using an app to manipulate his voice for different characters until I saw him narrating in real time and I was utterly blown away by his talent.

The combination of this story by Matt Dinniman and narration by Jeff Hays has me going back, time and time again. I recommend the experience wholeheartedly and hope you'll give it a chance.

#dungeon crawler carl #matt dinniman #jeff hays #soundbooth theater

114 notes · View notes

gamerbunny1996 · 6 months ago

Text

Anxiety

Sitting at your computer you are about to start a stream with a few others. One being Schlatt. You get so excited every time you guys get to do a stream together. You're always so shy though, having a hard time talking to him sometimes. Starting the live you do your intro waiting for all the fans to pile in.

Seeing everyone in discord you jumped in. “Hello y/n” Ted said in a sing-song voice. “Hi,” you said back. “So what we have planned you just told me to join in discord” swagger said. Jackmanifold jumped in “I thought of doing a big you laugh you lose live stream” you smile at his excitement. “The rules are different then my normal ones. This time we have to make each other laugh” he said.

“I don't think I've ever heard y/n laugh,” Schlatt said. “Really I hear it all the time,” Ted replied to schlatt. “I bet it's an ugly laugh that's why she never laughs in front of me” you were shocked by his words he never talks bad about you ever even in a joking manner. “I don't think I do,” you tried to argue. “Then why have I never heard it then” he asked. “Ummmm… I don't really know maybe because you're not that funny” you kinda lied at the end you find him hilarious but you're always so shy and quiet he probably just never noticed you laughing at him. “That's a lie and you know it,” he said. “Alright you two let's start the challenge before the live goes on too long” Jack butted in. “I have a wheel here of all are names and who ever it lands on has to try and make the rest of us laugh”

You start to get nervous you don't even know where to begin on making people laugh you only know dark jokes. “Alright let's see who it's going to be” Jack spun the wheel. It goes around a few times until it lands on your name. Of course, just your luck. “Well I'm not good at this,” you said. “Just try, I know you can do it,” Ted said to you. “Okay I'm sorry for any jokes I speak. What's a depressed kid's favorite thing to do” you asked. Everyone said what. “They like just hanging around,” you said, trying not to laugh at yourself. All their eyes widened. “That was dark,” swagger said. “Yeah I only know dark jokes” you said trying to hide your face in embarrassment. “You need so much help mentally” Schlatt said.

The game went on and you just kinda stayed quiet the wheel has yet to land on you again. Thankfully. You wanted to die from the amount of embarrassment you are feeling. “Y/n you have yet to laugh come on there has to be something to make you laugh” Jack said. “I should just go, I'm just embarrassing myself more and more” you go to the end stream and discord. “Ha pussy” you heard schlatt say right when you hit the end call. Why was this upsetting you so much? You tell dark jokes all the time and you never have a problem other than people questioning your sanity. Like just hearing schlatt make rude comments to you and not finding your stupid joke funny now leaving because you just couldn't laugh. Everything started to get overwhelming.

A notification happened on discord you go look who's it from. Ted's name came on screen asking if I'm okay. “I don't know just some reason my anxiety is hitting hard after I told that joke” you send to Ted. It didn't take long for him to reply “that's weird it was a pretty funny joke even if it was dark.” He replied back to you. Smiling to yourself makes you feel better. “Weird question” you send

“What?” he replied. “Do you know why Schlatt is being so mean he is never this mean to me” you send scared he will poke at you for asking about schlatt. “No I don't. Why do you ask anyway” he replied. Scared you didn't know how to reply.

You put your fingers on the keys and started to type away just to get it over with. “Well, how do I put this? I really like Schlatt a lot and he was always so nice to me and mean to others I thought maybe he liked me too or something I don't really know” you hesitated to send. Taking a deep breath you sent it. It felt like forever for Ted to reply back. “Aw, how cute. I wish I could help but I don't even know Schlatt can be very private sometimes but you're right it's weird how all of a sudden he just starts to be mean to you. He hasn't said anything about you since you left.” He replied to you.

Starting to tear up from frustration and emotions. You don't really understand why you're feeling this way. Just wanting him to like you back. You decide to take a break on live streams and social media maybe it's your anxiety taking over. “I think I'm taking a break from everything for a little bit. My anxiety is going crazy and I need a few weeks to myself and maybe try and figure out this whole Schlatt thing” you sent to Ted. Taking a deep breath you start to shut everything down and leaving discord up to see when Ted replies back. Waiting for him you start to write a little letter for all your fans so they know you're taking a break for a few weeks. Posting it on all social media he sighs out looking back up at your monitor. “Please take a break if you need it. We will talk everyday you're gonna keep me updated on your little crush, life got it” you can almost hear him say this in a sassy voice making you laugh a little to yourself.

Closing discord you turn off the whole computer and monitors. Getting up you walk into the bathroom ready for a nice shower. Hoping to calm your thoughts. Right before you step in you hear you phone go off. Checking it to see who texted you.

Schlatt❤️: Why did you leave the stream today?

Toots: my anxiety got to much

Schlatt❤️: you want to talk about it?

Toots: Not really

Schlatt❤️: well I'm here if you want to talk

Toots:okay :l

You turned your phone off and hopped into the shower. Feeling the hot water poor over you. Enjoying the warmth your head went to your message just barely with schlatt. Why does he care all of a sudden? This is so strange it's making you upset. Turning off the water you got out. Drying off you looked at your phone. You wanted to see if schlatt replied. You wanted to text him so bad to come over so you could hug him and cry. You wanted to do so much but just couldn't do it.

Getting dressed you grabbed your phone and went into your room. Sitting on your bed you finally decided to turn your phone on to see if he texted back.

Schlatt❤️: I think you do

Taking a deep breath you turned your phone off leaving him on read. What do you say at this point? That you're in love with him and you want to hug and kiss him to make everything better. Soon your phone went off again.

Schlatt ❤️: don't leave me on read

You smile at that. But you still couldn't text him. It just felt so wrong.

Schlatt❤️:y/n

Schlatt❤️:toots

Schlatt❤️: dumbass answer me

Soon your phone started to ring. He was calling you. Panicking, you threw the phone. Thankfully It landed at the end of the bed. It went silent. Sighing in relief. You went to grab your phone but it started to ring again. You decide to just get it over with and answer the call. Before you could say hello Schlatt started yelling at you. “What the hell you kept leaving me on read then didn't answer the call. You should be ashamed. I'm trying to me a nice friend and you do this what the hell is going on” tearing up you broke down crying feeling bad for being so mean to Schlatt. “Oh wait don't cry sorry didn't mean to yell at you please calm down” he started to freak out not knowing what to do.

“You…. So…. Mean….stream” you cry out only a few words. Barely being able to breathe from all the crying. It just wouldn't stop no matter how hard you try. “Oh I'm so sorry I didn't mean to be I was just joking around please stop crying” you sniffled out finally being able to calm down a little. Once you can breathe again and only tears fall once in a while, you speak. “I'm sorry I don't really know what wrong my emotions are all over the place my anxiety is hitting pretty hard” you try to explain but leaving the part out of you just want to date the man. “It's okay, is there any reason why your anxiety is so bad?” he tried to help but he just can not know. “No” is all you said. “You want me to come over and we can watch a movie to distract you” your eyes widen. Staying silent you had no idea how to answer. Finally you just agreed. “Perfect I'll be over in 15 minutes or so” he hung up the phone. Now what are you going to do? Your crush coming over your face is a mess from crying so hard. Getting up you grab a few blankets and head to the living room. Placing them on the couch you go put some popcorn in the microwave. Waiting for it you pull out your popcorn bowl and some salt. Once it was done you pulled it out and poured it into the bowl. Putting salt all over it. Taking it to the living room you place it down on the coffee table. Turning on your TV you waited for Schlatt to come. You started to bounce your knee. Anxiety taking over your body. You were so lost in thought you didn't realize the door knocking. After a few seconds you snap out of it and went to answer the door.

Schlatt stood there with two bags. Letting him in. “I brought snacks and drinks,” he said, placing the bags on the table. “That was nice of you” you told him. He sat on the couch patting the seat next to him. He walks over sitting next to him as far as you can without him noticing. He did notice and didn't like it so he grabbed you shoulder and dragged you into his side. Laying a blanket over the both of you he turned on your favorite movie. Your eyes widen from shock that he remembered your favorite movie. You grabbed the bag of snacks and seen it had all your favorites. Looking at Schlatt on shock. “What?” He asked lifting and eyebrow. “You remembered all my favorite stuff” you said to him. “Yeah of course why wouldn't I” he said. “I don't know just people don't usually remember these things about me” you told. “Well I remembered” he said. A smile grew on your face. “thank you,for everything your so sweet to me” I told him. “Yeah well maybe that's because I like you” your eyes grew wide. You didn't know what to say or do just stare at him in shock. He just rolled his eyes smashing his lips into yours. You relaxed a little and kissed back. Pulling away you buried your face into his chest embarrassed. You can feel him laugh a little. Smiling to yourself you spoke into his chest. “I like you too” feeling him wrap his arm around you. “I know” is all he said. Looking up at him “how” he smiled at you. “You are way more obvious than you think you are '' blushing you turn to the TV trying to hide your face from him. He pulled you close to him. You enjoyed being so close to him. This was exactly what you wanted.

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #x reader

60 notes · View notes

chez-cinnamon · 1 year ago

Note

Time is meaningless, so just Good. How are you.

I know all the puppets' personalities are essentially the same, but they clearly don't act like children's characters anymore (like wallys fuck you to fionn in that one ask;I know it was a joke but still)

When wally watches old wh reruns, or when any of the others see any, I feel like they'd get reeeallly embarrassed. And like, identity-crisissy seeing how they were before they gained sentience

Sally (on tv): I just LOVE watching MOVIES with my FRIENDS!!! What's YOUR favorite movie???

(awkwardly long pause)

That's MY favorite, too!!!!

Regular Sally: 😐😑 what the fuck

Just some thoughts to rotate in your brain. Have a Day

Abgbgfnghf I mean you're not wrong - they keep their original personalities but as the days go on they realise they've actually changed a lot from who they were before they gained sentience...

Wally, still the friendliest neighbour you could meet and still a lover of the arts, but everything he went through changed him from a once calm and silly puppet to a tired, traumatised puppet who feels responsible for their predicament, and suffers from the betrayal of his own Home.

Barnaby still loves to tell jokes and act the sly, silly scallywag he is, but inside is an unshakeable paranoia, that he might lose his neighbours and best friend for real this time, and he doesn't want that to happen. He's already lost his mama technically, and that's bad enough!

Still joyful and playful, Julie feels skittish and restricted however, in a world that sees adults as those who have to be serious, hard money making machines, where fun is looked down upon. On top of that she has technically lost her siblings.

Frank remains knowledgable and stoic, his love for butterflies never dying, but inside he hates the sudden change. He didn't want to leave Home, he didn't want it to go; thus he is prone to meltdowns every now and then.

Eddie's heart is still of gold, still clumsy as can be yet forever well meaning, but after seeing Home's carnage, he feels kind of lost. His dear post office was ripped away from him, and his dearest Frank was nearly taken too, so he will never let Frank out of his sight, no matter how overbearing he seems.

Friendly clerk Howdy remains the fast talking, smiley caterpillar he always was, and even gets a chance to let loose in the human world, but like Eddie, he so dearly misses his little bodega, even if it nearly hurt him. He now feels responsible for Frank and Eddie's behaviour, trying to keep them in check, and oh how can dealing with Fionn grind his sanity.

Once a performer, always a performer: Sally always likes to make little plays to keep everyone happy, and will make all the foolproof plans in the world to keep them safe from any dangerous humans. However even the most skilled actress can tucker herself out with people pleasing through acting, and like Howdy, arguing with Fionn puts a toll on you.

Poppy is definitely the most careful neighbour, always looking out for her friends and being there for them always. But after travelling to a whole new world, wouldn't your nerves and worries increase tenfold? Hers certainly did, bumbling and whimpering at anything bad that might happen, feeling like a burden due to her cautious nature.

Watching their old shows brings back a sad mix of hopelessness, longing and nostalgia - they may not be able to go back, it seems, but at least they can still experience their old lives one way or another, even with the occasional embarrassment at their quirks in episodes!

#real world au #*pats each of them* these puppets can fit a whole lot of trauma in them

234 notes · View notes

marvelmymarvel · 2 years ago

Text

Last Goodbye

ANBU!Kakashi X Reader

Synopsis: Loving Kakashi felt like a goodbye you’re almost too scared to utter.

A/N: This is inspired by the song “Goodbye” by Billie Eilish and the fact that the ANBU breaks people down into soldiers.

Naruto Masterlist: Marvelmymarvelmaster

TW: Mentions of suicide (past comments and ideas). Pure angst/NO comfort

Lyrics:

Please, please Don't leave me Be Take me to the rooftop. Told you not to worry What do you want from me? Dont ask questions Wait a minute Don't you know I'm no good for you? Baby, I don't feel so good Bite my tongue, bide my time What is it about them? I'm the bad guy

Kakashi cocked his head as he took in your shaking fingers trying to wrap a deep wound on his side. The mission had gone terribly; if he had been a few seconds earlier, he would have been dead. But that was what being in the ANBU entailed. That was his job and you knew that. But it didn't change the fact that it's been draining you.

It was around his sixth year, and while you had six years to get used to the sight before you, it only seemed to have made you shakier. Because you loved him more now than you did, and that scared you.

“Please,” you sobbed softly, fingers clutching onto the wrap as you urged yourself to stop the words bubbling up from your chest, but there was no stopping them. “Please, Kakashi, I can't keep doing this.”

It felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs. He had been afraid of this happening. He knew it would come but hoped he'd have more time to help you through it. He nodded before placing a soft hand on your violently shaking one. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't. You meant too much to him now. “It will only be a few more years before they’re ready to retire me-”

You shook your head at this, more pleas falling from your lips as you began to panic.

“Don't leave me.” Kakashi snapped out sharply. He tried to sound secure but his voice was shaky as he pulled you into his body. You weren't allowed to leave him. That's not how this worked. He couldn’t make it alone.

He wouldn't be able to live without you.

Kakashi just needed you to be strong; he needed you to just be there for him. Maybe telling you how much he needed you to be with him would help strengthen your quickly crumbling composure. “Just Be-” but he stopped, finally taking in the way you were shaking within his embrace. Was he being selfish? Putting you through this misery with him? His chest stuttered below where your head lay, alerting you that he was panicking alongside you.

“I’m a monster.”

You lifted your head from his chest, eyebrows crinkling at the thick tears cascading down his face, soaking into the mask he used to hide behind. You shook your head at his statement; he was anything but a monster. He tried to stop the sobs coming from his body, fear of losing you taking over every single cell within him. “It's not true,” you whimpered as you lifted your fingers to his mask. You didn't wait for him to answer and pulled the cloth down to free him from the persona he was hiding behind.

It wasn't healthy to do such a thing all of the time.

You sat there for a second, staring at his scrunched-up face as he tried to hide himself from you. Shaking your head, you drug your hands from his neck to cup his cheeks. Kakashi closed his eyes, visions of just going to the rooftop to end it all flashing before his eyes. He remembers telling you once: “Take me to the rooftop” after Obito died... He meant it as a joke, but it scared you half to death.

This scared you half to death.

“Kakashi, it's okay,” you breathed out, forehead pressing with his in the hopes that you could take away those ideas before they planted a suicidal seed in his brain. More sobs bubbled up from his chest, and his cries turned into desperate wails as he gripped your hips like you were some sort of lifeline. Like you were the only thing holding him to sanity. “I keep hurting you,” he cried out. You winced in response. How did this go from you breaking down to him losing who he was once again? It was then you realized.

You couldn't leave him.

“I told you not to worry,” you stated firmly before shifting so you were sitting on his lap. You knew that resting your weight on his body always calmed him down, and in some way, it helped you as well. But he shook his head and shoved you off of him, causing your hands to fly from his face to catch your fall. He inhaled sharply at the action, eyes looking at his hands in shock as if he didn't realize what he had just done. As if he didn't command himself to do such a thing. More regret filled his veins. Did he hurt you?

Kakashi ignited his Sharingan to take in your movements, hoping to see in slow motion any pain or suffering he may have caused you. But he saw nothing. You sighed as you crossed your legs in front of him. “What do you want from me?”

You sounded serious and unbothered by what just happened, but in all reality, you were slightly terrified of what was happening. He’s never been so far in his mind that he didn't realize his own actions. “Kakashi, what do you need from me-”

“Don't ask questions.”

Your mouth shut as if he commanded you to, but it wasn't his words or tone that scared you into submission. It was that he was changing right before your very own eyes. This was no longer the Kakashi you knew.

That Kakashi was dead.

But maybe you could save him again. “Wait a minute-”

“Don't you know I'm no good for you?”

Your eyes dropped sadly to your own hands. He wasn't good for you; of course, you knew that. But you loved him. You loved him more than anything in this world. So why did you feel so goddamn sick all of a sudden being in his presence? “Baby, I don't feel so good.” you cried out softly, afraid of talking too loud and triggering the beast before you. Silence filled the space, the sound of only your cries filling the air.

Kakashi observed you, bite my tongue, bide my time. He repeated those words in his head over and over again as he pushed away the urge to reach out to you. To comfort you. To beg you to stay. You would be free from him forever if he pushed you away instead of saying anything.

Your eyes flicked over to his ANBU mask beside the two of you, that stupid thing. You would burn it if you could. It was all their fault that the Kakashi before you was no longer the Kakashi you loved. The Kakashi you cared for. No… This Kakashi was a machine. A soldier.

A monster.

He watched as you grabbed the mask with a jutted-out lip, trying hard not to scream and throw a tantrum like you deserved to do. “What is it about them?”

His chest felt tight at the question. It wasn't the first time he heard the question, but he hoped it would be the last. A crack sounded out in the room as your grip tightened enough to break the wooden mask slightly.

He didn't stop you as you only squeezed harder. He wanted you to break it. To break him. To free him from this hell he was living in.

“I want to burn this stupid thing, but I fear you are too far gone. And the mask no longer hides the man I love… It is the man I love.”

Now that… That was new. That was what kicked the old Kakashi back into control. He parted his lips to say anything, but you stood swiftly, stopping him from speaking. You didn't look at him, couldn't look at him. You could only look at the mask that ruined him. Ripped him to shreds and left you with nothing to call home.

“Y/n”

You dropped the mask as he whispered your name, “I’m done. Kakashi, I’m afraid you’re too far gone. And while I would stay because I love you… This new you doesn't love me… And I deserve to be loved.”

What was this pain he was feeling? It felt like he couldn't breathe, as if his lungs were on fire. His body felt like lead as he watched you step over his gear and head toward his apartment door. “Please… Please, Y/n dont… Don't leave me.”

You turned away from him as you gripped the door handle for support. This had to be the first and final goodbye to him and this lifestyle. Six years of this. Six years of sleepless nights and near-death experiences. Six years of terrifying nightmares that left him shaking and sobbing in your arms. Six years of slowly watching the life drain from his eyes. Six years.

And you couldn't hold on for a couple more.

“I love you, Kakashi, but I can't do this anymore” Your voice sounded steadier than you felt. While Kakashi felt like he was the only one heartbroken, he failed to realize you felt the same. You loved him. You loved him so much that it made you sick.

“I have to go… I love you.”

Before he could interject or plead with you, the door had closed behind you. Leaving him alone in his dark room. The shadows seemed to slink towards him as he shakily watched the door, hoping and praying you would come back. Tell him it was a cruel joke and you would never leave him.

But it never happened. He broke his steely gaze with the door and looked at his shaking palms. “Oh, gods… What have I done.” His tears once more blurred his vision as he felt your absence in full. He should have left the ANBU sooner and done it at the first sign of losing who he was.

On the other side of the door, you had not left yet and instead sat with your back against the wood. Heart-shattering at the sound of his sobs hitting your ears. You just wanted to soothe and reassure him that you loved him. But doing those things brought you to where you are now. Still, you couldn't help but feel like a terrible human being for leaving the man you loved the most.

“I'm the bad guy.”

Your whisper was shaky as you stood from your spot on the floor. Maybe giving him space will help him. Perhaps you two would get ice cream tomorrow and have a fun date. Maybe’s… They were always “Maybe’s” with him. Shaking your head, you took off towards your apartment across town.

Kakashi curled onto his side, clinging the pillow to his chest as he tried to imagine it was you. He needed you, and he sometimes hated it. Maybe this was good for him… Maybe if he left the ANBU and returned to being who he was… Maybe, just maybe, you’d come back to him. You weren't gone forever, no… He was going to change for you.

He was going to make sure this wasn't your last goodbye.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi imagines #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake imagines #kakashi hatake imagine #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #angst no comfort

162 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 1 year ago

Text

Autumn Leaves- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

GN!Reader, angst, character death, platonic!relationship

Another day another life Passes by just like mine It's not complicated

It hasn't been the best year for the task force. Losing someone they knew for years, losing themselves in the process. Missing someone they wish they shared one last word with. Questions cloud their minds, heart aches make this autumn worse than the last. Maybe if their friend stayed longer, maybe if their comrade was not a soldier, maybe, just maybe. Not being there, seeing them become the husbands and fathers they all joked about, the last words they gave the other when they thought they'd die back in those missions, what fools were they to believe their friend would be the first one out.

Who would be there to see their kids grow? Who would be the one to keep them in shape if not their friend. Why must this person leave so soon? The tea wasn't even out yet. Stay a little longer, for the sake of our hearts.

The last mission, what a dick move was it to leave their battle buddy out there alone. If all had gone better, the one person who saw them drink and dance would see them do it once more. The designated driver, the one who looked after them, why couldn't they stay?

"You think I'll make it past 40?"

"Not a chance."

You and him laugh and he nods. "It'd be nice if we both did," you add. He nods and looks back at the smoky night sky, his cigarette being the only reason you can see the scar from his childhood. Your gaze is now on the stars. You always looked at the little detail of the others in the team. The scar Gaz got from a shit driving by the mountains, Soap and the scar on his eyebrow, are the only reason why you took him so seriously. Price and the scar on his shoulder, the one he got when he saved you from the gunfight.

But when you turn back to look at him, you only see him walk away. "Leaving so soon, sir?" you ask and he nods, "Best if I get some beauty sleep." You chuckle, "Better sleep for a century then."

"Oi, I'm not so bad lookin' kid," he smirks, loving the banter between you two.

"Look in a mirror, sir." you chuckle and he flips you off.

Another mind Another soul Another body to grow old It's not complicated

Maybe if one fought for the other that night, the one who is now gone would have at least left leaving some memories for the new recruits. A lie that still keeps four people awake at night. Would the dead come back like the movies say? Would their beloved friend be back if some potion or if Victor Frankenstein were to be real, could their friend be back? Sew them limb for limb, do the most to just hear them say a proper goodbye. Why must this world be cruel to those who try to keep every civilian safe by sacrificing their own sanity? Why must their comrade be gone so soon?

Do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you? Float down Like autumn leaves Hush now

"When I was a kid, me and my brother Tommy had those glow-in-the-dark stars up on the ceiling. Before my father would barge in the room to scare me, me and him actually bonded." He says as he sits next to you on the cold field. "You think maybe he is somewhere out there?" You look back to the sky. "Yeah, I'm sure he is, always told me he'd be around to bother me." from his lips a chuckle escaped.

If I had stayed, maybe we'd still have these conversations and not me talking to your graves.

"Soap, you snipe, Gaz get those communications going, Ghost, you and R/N get on that field and show them what we are known for." Price orders and then prepares himself for the old field.

Is it that it's over or do birds still sing for you? Float down Like autumn leaves Hush now

----

"Today, we are gathered to celebrate and mourn the life of a friend, comrade and the best goddamn soldier I had the privilege to work with." Price wipes his tears as he looks at the room full of people who know mourn with him.

"To me, Simon Riley was not just another soldier, he was a brother, or as I called him, my son. I met him days after the tragedy of his family and that day I swore I would protect this kid from the shit of the world and I stand here today saying I failed at the one promise I made as his then sergeant." His lips quiver. Soap and Gaz have an arm around you, keeping you or at least trying their best to calm you down.

The day you lost him, is still a blur. But what he said to you, will forever live with you. "R/N, I'm not a strong soldier, I fear so much and right now I fear I'm dying alone." his voice was weak as you heard over the radio. The run to him, the mud and cuts you had to just get to him, also live with you.

"Somewhere, in some place in Manchester, the soul of the greatest man I will ever know now roams the streets," Price pauses to gain composure. His voice breaks every now and then, "Somewhere he is teaching his nephew how to play football, his mother makes tea, to..." he stops again and wipes more tears away, "his mother makes tea, to celebrate the welcome his son. His brother sits on the green grass, watching his older brother bond with his nephew. And somewhere between the lines, he knows peace."

You get up and walk away, needing fresh air. "Simon was known as Ghost, and it pains me to say, that Ghost he will remain. But one thing changed, today, he doesn't reunite with his father, no but today I lost my...my son." Price looks at the coffin. "The men and women he worked with, they know he left a piece of him in each one of us. After 32 years of life, he can finally rest because he is the only one who truly deserves rest." His voice cracks again. "So, as we end this celebration of the man he was, I ask of you to think of him for who Simon was not for who Ghost is."

Ooh how I miss you My symphony played the song that carried you out Ooh how I miss you And I, I miss you and I wish you'd stay

You walked alongside the broken-down pavement, going hysterical. You swear you hear him call for you when the wind blows but all you have now is the dog tags of the man you called family. Hours before you had to pretend you were fine, you screamed and sobbed. "My fault, my fucking fault." you cried on your knees. The home he once brought you and the team to is now empty and haunting you with his smell. The walls with little to no decorations, the coffee stain on the counter, the empty office chair. The home he was Simon in, was now occupied by dust and old memories.

They say life is cruel to those who are nice and today, that saying became a fact in your life. Soap no longer had a battle buddy, Gaz had no mentor, Price had no older son, and R/N had no lifelong friend to turn to when shit hit the fan. And as you watched his coffin get lowered, you once more swore he called for you. One more fear was added when you watched Soap and Gaz hug each other. That fear is now losing them too. Price walked away from that moment, and you feared you would lose him too. No one can fear losing you because with Ghost now gone, you are now lost.

Touch down Like a seven four seven Or stay out and we'll live forever now

Tags: @liyanahelena @warenai @ghostslittlegf (tagged bc I know you live and cry for angst<3

114 notes · View notes

senka-mesecine · 2 months ago

Note

Pitching the idea of Reader being a poor nurse that the boys just can’t get enough of, probably arriving with reinforcements to treat the wounded on base and subsequently becoming the begrudging object of the affections of both Barnes and Elias’ squads : )

Just to shake things up, would be interesting if they were all obsessive...but not all of them necessarily in the sexual or romantic sense. Platonic obsession? Brotherly obsession? Unhealthy professional overattachment? Here we go!

― Like, I can see Taylor having a sickening crush but also thinking he's doing you a favor if he warns you against nearly every other platoon member that conveniently ain't him; That one's a killer, this one's a liar, that one's just bad news, that one over there is untrustworthy and generally unstable and before you know, it's like nobody's good enough from Chris' particular point of view; he's holier-than-thou in regards of all the men and you and finds fault with just about everyone one way or another, writing it off as him being the only sane man (even though he's clearly losing his sanity by the daily and is keenly aware of it) who's being a friend irregardless of the fact that you're professional and poised and had no intention with anyone outside the realm of fixing up their wounds. Chris doesn't see it that way, of course --- he feels he needs to be your voice of reason and your white knight and hero, all while effectively trying to isolate you from everyone else because none of them's worthy and someone should tell you time and time again. The road to hell's paved with good intentions, and that proverb fits spectacularly for Chris in this situation. He tells himself he's above casually pestering the one female on base because he's nobler and apart from all the grunts regardless how anonymous he strives to be, don't you know, which is precisely and exactly why he wants you quietly eclipsed and by his side. Because he's not an animal. Because you and him are similar in his mind's eyes and should stick together. He idealizes you to abnormal degrees. You're a flawless person on a pedestal. Undoubtedly starts a whole journal outside of his letters purely to put into words how highly he thinks of you.

― O'Neill just flat out hits on you constantly and his attentions seem like they would be sleazy, in your face, non stop, verging on annoyance but also slightly cowardly because he's usually all talk and very little action; meaning that you're flirted with ten times a day but he isn't ever gonna do any more than that because he's ultimately Barnes' brown-nosing lackey --- that's not to say he won't be pestering you during your chores, your duties, while you're actively stitching up someone wounded in combat and Red's, right there, buttering you up with comments and open schmoozing, going as far as getting confrontational if the younger soldiers from the opposing squad try to do the same, being the ultimate hypocrite, instantly burdening them with jobs, disgusting tasks, threats that he'll tell higher ups (higher ups being Barnes) and really anything and everything to get them as far away from you as possible and punish them for even attempt to act like wiseguys; one gets the impression it's not even necessarily himself he wants you for as much as for Barnes' squad and even Barnes himself and it's hard to deduce if he's pining in the romantic sense or solely out of a weirdly misplaced ownership and to peg the other side down a notch. Possibly a mix of both? Suffice to say he reports everything you say, you do, you don't do, who you've talked to, what you said, who you looked at ten seconds longer than you should've back to Bob, acting like the ultimate insider to all your whereabouts. You're probably this man's prime fuel of camp gossip. His favorite topic too. Turns out you have a spy on your tail at the base who doesn't even make a tremendously big effort to hide that he's spying. Might just openly joke about it to you.

― Bunny thinks management's done a hell of a good job sending the platoon a woman because he's convinced that's exactly what base camp lacked and he's disgusting enough to blatantly objectify and dehumanize you, viewing you on the same par as provisions --- the higher ups in the chain of command send them ammo, cans of food, matches, cigarettes, beer and now a woman. Perfect. Life's good. Like what else does a guy really need? Maybe a car. He'd like a car next. A really fast one. Yeah, that's a great idea. This kid's already loved his time in Vietnam before you've ever arrived but now, he just about adores it. He never wants to leave, ever, because why would he? He's got everything he needs right here due to the fact he's absolutely convinced sooner or later you'll put out to everyone, him included, of course. And in the meantime, it's nice just looking at you in your daily habitat, doing your job. Him and Junior might even make bets on it, having a whole elaborate batting order on who's gonna nail it first and how, acting like the nasty kids they are, forging plans on how to ensure Elias' squad is excluded from the figuratively fantastic gangbang. But, in spite of how putrid they generally are (usually among themselves) Bunny limits himself to off putting comments only and the occasional disastrously perverted attempt to start something and nothing more, coming off like a overly attached puppy that won't stop barking up your leg because while awful, he still has a whole platoon of superior's to contend with. Junior? Might just pretend he's hurt so you can tend to him while he acts like he's writhing in pain. There's something almost pathetically hilarious at play here. Hard to know if you wanna laugh or be disgusted.

― Barnes seemingly ignores you all while feeling he's entirely entitled to you in every way humanly possible. Professionally, platonically, sexually, romantically --- god's sake, man probably feels he's entitled to your very soul. And all this while he's completely poker faced, stone cold and apparently disinterested in your comings and goings. You could very well get the impression he deeply dislikes you. He might not even address you personally for the longest time ever (and might just do it through his lackeys) but he's actually got his eyes on you since the moment you set foot here, assessing everything about you down to the smallest minutiae of details. He feels you belong to him where feelings are concerned and to his squad, where professionalisms is in question, meaning that if someone from Elias' squad gets hurt he might just break up you doing your job by ordering you to do something else instead with the greatest airs of urgency ever, going as far as having an outburst of anger (a tactical one) or intimidating you if you refuse, just so Elias' boys wouldn't get any of your help and his do. Only his. He'd effectively eclipse you and separate you from his rivals, securing you as an asset. Somehow, this man's never said more than three words to you since you arrived on base, yet you ended up almost constantly by his side, treating his own squad-mates from miniscule illnesses while Elias's boys might be there dying from actual gunshot wounds. He's weeding out the opposition effectively all while having a hold on you that's covertly matrimonial in the most discreet of ways; Barnes is downright obsessed like the higher ups sent someone he's actually married to back in the world to do this job instead of someone who he's just met here and he would outright kill or eliminate anyone and everyone who'd dare get between him and you, without you even realizing how deeply fixated this man is.

― Wolfe latches unto you because you're the one person around here he can have the upper hand over in ways he can't over fellow soldiers; you're a woman, not a trained marine, not dangerous, you're surrounded by killers and yes, he can present himself as your kindred spirit in a den full of people who aren't like you. But, oh? He's different, you see. He's a college boy, he's more refined, more mellow, he wears a signet ring, he's less rugged than these assholes, he's willing to do non stop favors (as he constantly asks if you need something) and by extension you should rely on him because he's non-threatening Wolfe. It feeds his ego to be around you because he reckons you'll be infinitely easier to impress than fellow men and actual veterans and by extension, your admiration will be easier to harvest too and he likes that. This is more about his own feeling of self worth than anything else, although he absolutely wouldn't mind if in some figurative sense you liked him as opposed to all the other men in this platoon solely based off of the fact he counts and relies on the notion they'll all be too weird, scary or intimidating for your tastes...especially in comparison to him. His compatriots might view him as a wet sock of a Lieutenant but to you? He might actually be very impressive because he reckons you don't know any better. He'd like to have you because he actually does like but also as a 'gotcha!' and a big fuck you to everyone else in the platoon. They don't respect his authority as a Lieutenant and he doesn't have the streak cut out for leadership? Well, fair enough, at least he'll get the girl in the end and they won't. That's what he hopes for. The thought alone gets him mean and prideful and it fills up his head with hot air.

― Rhah could be very apprehensive about a woman's presence, telling his squad-mates an engrossed, impassioned story about how back in the old days sailors on ships always considered a woman on board bad luck --- and since this is a sort of ship, same hierarchy running the whole platoon in theory, with captains, first mates, cabin boys and deck scrubbers galore, he predicts you being here will be nothing but trouble, a conclusion him, and say, King could very well share, although King might be very blunt, cut the bullshit and just (jokingly?) assess the presence of a woman could just turn the men buck wild and he'd be willing to wager anything half of them will end up wanting you or fighting over you one way or another, whether you realize so or not; a notion Rhah might scoff at, reminding the other man of this all being bad mojo considering the amicability levels in the platoon are always oscillating from various shades of tense to various shades of awful. He sees you as a harbinger of doom. An omen of big trouble. Your presence seems like the beginning to a cautionary tale to Vermucci. He might just come and tell you that cautionary tale himself, warning you that your presence here is gonna mess everything up, but being the first one to be vary of you he's just as likely to be among the first to actually warm up to you sincerely, albeit after a bit of tough love, making his fixation a mix of something friendly, almost brotherly and while he was here demonizing you at first he might just end up idealizing you. Man probably names a new concoction of substances after you. Might play music that contain your name in the Underground's bunker during times off and parties. Goes from agitation in regards to you to flat out romanticization.

― Elias is worried sick for you. Day one. Not in a condescending way, far from; man would genuinely have his best interest at heart for you without even knowing you whatsoever or expecting anything in return. That's just how he is. He simply knows how much trouble your own presence here is gonna potentially cause for you if you don't watch out and he simultaneously admires you to no end for it because he knows it takes guts to be here, making that his overall attachment is almost brotherly in nature at first, even though if you blink you might catch something more there but for the most part he comes off as someone fiercely protective of you meaning that if a confrontation between the boys happens at all it's most likely going to happen due to Elias personally sticking up for you and being your knight in shining armor. He can't stand you being catcalled. Leered at. Sneered at. Underestimated. Talked down to. Talked about behind your back. People being gross towards you. He's s generally the reason why his own squad is better behaved than Barnes' who treat you like you downright belong to Barnes, leading to at an increase in tensions between and Bob because if anything, Elias can read the man's intent without it ever being spoken. He can just about catch the way Barnes looks at you. His protectiveness could be sibling-like, could be weirdly paternal, could be plain ol' kindness or could be downright love, either ways, the lines will never be clearly defined by Elias himself because he doesn't want you in that compromising situation while stuck out in the middle of the bush in a camp so far away from everything, genuinely making him the nicest man you'll encounter on base, causing the tensions grow only ever higher by proxy. Elias gains some very dangerous enemies through this, but his attachment to you is such he couldn't be happier.

7 notes · View notes

monsterkong · 2 months ago

Text

youtube

The Emotional Rollercoaster of Entrepreneurship: Finding Balance and Support

🎢 When Entrepreneurship Feels Overwhelming

Today has been one of those days where life as an entrepreneur feels heavy. I was standing in line, picking up my kids from school, fresh off a client meeting. It hit me—entrepreneurship is hard, and balancing it with parenting is even harder. 😫

I heard something earlier about the health crisis many parents are facing, especially those of us running businesses. It’s tough to manage it all. The expectations are sky-high: keep your kids fed, healthy, happy, and run a successful business, all without losing your mind. 😵

Juggling Business, Parenthood, and Self-Care

Today was one of those mornings when I woke up already exhausted. It’s payroll day, and while things have been going well, financial pressures never completely go away. 📊

Between client meetings, making video content, and fixing issues, it feels like I’m constantly in motion. As I inch forward in the school pick-up line, I wonder how we’re supposed to stay sane through all of this. Some days, I dream of sitting by the beach, doing nothing. 🏖️

But as much as I joke about wanting to run away, I know that if you’ve chosen the path of entrepreneurship, it’s for a reason. You’re driven by something bigger, even when the going gets tough.

Support Systems and Giving Yourself Grace

One thing I’ve learned is the importance of having a support system. My assistant is a lifesaver. She’s been with me for years and helps keep the ship afloat on days when I’m ready to sink. 🚢

If you’re an entrepreneur reading this, give yourself grace. You are allowed to have bad days. You don’t need to be perfect 100% of the time. Clients might not always understand that, and that’s okay. But we can’t pour from an empty cup.

Business Friends and Maintaining Sanity

Business friends are also key to maintaining your sanity. These are the people who understand the struggles and can offer advice, or even just a listening ear. 👂 When burnout feels like it's around the corner, having those friends to lean on can make all the difference.

So, here’s my advice: Take care of yourself. Surround yourself with people who support you, and give yourself permission to step back when you need to. This entrepreneurial journey is challenging, but it’s also incredibly rewarding. 🌟

#Entrepreneurship #Business #Entrepreneur #Small Business #Mindset #Youtube

2 notes · View notes

biribaa · 1 year ago

Text

ok, i found out while trying to make a comic vers of this i have zero patience of drwaing comics so have bad OP AI au fanfic based around in one of the moments in the original ttrpg

The abandoned house kept it's cold stature, and the smell of death(and probally blood and piss too) was in the air. However, AIs don't have noses, at least not these ones.

PAL notices the slime hitting CRASH, a small worry creeps over her. Please, she doesn't have the patience to deal with a member with a lack of sanity. So, she decided to check.

PAL grabs one of the barrels near the red symbol printed in the floor, throwing it on the ground carelessly. And when the barrel hits the ground, black slime splatters across the floor. A grunt of disgust comes from her. But because of CRASH's lack of care, some of the slime stains on the AI pants. And then, a strange, cold, good? Yet, familiar feeling shivers down his circuits. He couldn't quite pinpoint what that feeling was yet, but as a result of PAL and Calculester's interaction with that slime in the abandoned sanatorium, it's definitely not a good, even if it feels like it.

"Crash-" "PAL, YOU DROPPED THAT BARREL NOW I'M GETTING HIGH." Crash spoke in a hurried tone, thoughts on his program going a thousand.

PAL's tired expression was replaced by an angry one. She opened her arms and snapped back in defense "But you- You're the one who stepped on the edge over there! It's not my fault!" "YOU-" "I've already told you-" "YOU-" "to stay away from that symbol!"

"YOU THROWED THE BARREL AND THE BLACK THING GOT IN MY PANTS PAL NOW I'M GETTIN' HIGH"

Both of them, equally, were already losing their patience in that discussion, and their voices were already rising. Wheatley, 079 and Calculester watched the scene, two of them keeping quiet to see what happened, but Wheatley spoke.

"Crash- Crash takes off your pants." The robot cyclops commented

"Holy shit Crash." PAL spat out the expletive, running her hands across her supposed forehead.

In a hurry, Calculester came alongside PAL "Guys, can we not argue?" A worried tone was present in his voice.

With all the discussion, PAL listens to Wheatley's suggestion, giving her a new argument idea. "Yeah Crash get naked again or something! Then it won't get in your clothes again!"

"Don't argue! Don't argue! I don't know what to do when both of you argue!"

"Just take off your pants Crash! Take off your pants and you won't- you won't get nuts! You won't!" Wheatley explained in a hurry in front of CRASH.

At this point the group became a debating mess, there were voices arguing on all sides, the only one who wasn't screaming all the time was 079, the only thing we could hear from him was him mentioning it was too cold.

The only moment that everyone really shut up was when CRASH lifted his shoulders and exclaimed "STOP FUCKING TELLING ME TO TAKE OFF MY PANTS! I DON'T WANT TO BE NAKED IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY AGAIN!!"

"But you're full of goo!" Wheatley pointed to the goo placed in CRASH.

"IF WE GET IN A ABANDONED HOUSE AND WE DIE WOULD YOU GET NAKED?!?...AGAIN?!"

The situation made Wheatley let out a laugh. "Crash! Look you are already getting nuts look look!" The discussion was already turning into a kind of joke it was so stupid that it became.

And AGAIN, CRASH and PAL started to discuss, just because of a garment, and again, their voiced started to mix for the lack of pauses to let the other speak

"Shut up!" 079 finally snnaped, and everyone glaced at him. "Shut up! Stop yelling!! Enough!!"

"I will check the other room." Calculester walked away.

"Enough!! Enough!" He added his hands towards his screen. "I can't take it anymore! Enough!" The computer groans "You guys are making me insane.... Just, stop."

A silence fell between them. The only thing that continued to break the silence was Wheatley's laughter over the situation.

#op ai #op ai au

2 notes · View notes

beatrice-reden-official · 3 months ago

Note

Ok ok some of them have a few so like

Cyn: "Am I pretty enough to lie to/I wish I could be a girl, and that way/You'd wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend/Just little old me in a big, big world/Little old me in a big world/I wish I were a girl", "We're so alike/But if the shoe fits, then I won't try it on/You'll be walking out early, but the show must go on/No, I know that I'm wrong/But I love how you're on my side when I cross that line/It's been a point of contention between myself and this/Body that they stuck me in", "Say my name like a slur, but I've been called worse/And I've heard it all before, no this isn't a first/Let me be the void you fill with/Taxidermy fingerprints, taxonomize our differences/I am quantum physics/My witness brings me into existence"

Jayden: "You draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin/But the tide rolls in, so who knows? Oh well/And a little identity never hurt nobody/But lately you've been focusing too much on yourself/So how many milligrams of you are still left in there?", "Who makes the call? What's a symptom, what's a flaw/Can it be both? Well I suppose that's an answer/Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity/Cause God knows it's not like it's cancer", "And a little conformity never hurt nobody/But lately I've been worried that you're losing yourself/So how many milligrams of you are still left in there", "What can I say, except don't heed no evil wills of moral nihilists/I said, "Back in the days of lobotomies and shock therapy and mad scientists/Oh don't you make me waste my breath. God damn it"", "You're not your thoughts, you're not your brain/You're just the character you've made/Up in your head, down in your heart/What seem like separate body parts/Come together to believe they're you/And not just chemistry/It's not the way that you were raised/Or what the advertisements say/Not what you pay for, what you pray for/What you want, or what you say/And I see your tendency to redefine disease by what you need/And I'm afraid I can't prescribe the diagnosis that you seek"

Veldt: "It doesn't take a killer to murder/It only takes a reason to kill/We've all got evidence of innocence, it's "everything's coincidence"/The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you're singing", "So if you wash your hands of where you've been until you flood the second floor/Neatly fold your skeletons, but still can't shut the closet door/The only ones in need of love are those who don't receive enough/So evil ones should get a little more", "You, could you take a look at me?/Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?/We're singing, ooh/Whatever you think of me/If you were in my shoes/You'd see I wear the same size as you"

Needle: "Where the television's broken and the campfire's smoking/And we're hopeful for tomorrow 'cause we know we had today/We're laughing and we're joking with no criticism spoken/If the clouds come out and drown the town, we'll still go out and play/I can feel the hands that I can hold already", "Well, I know the day is far away/And if it comes, it will not stay/But I can't chase the flavor from my mind/Well, this is my lysergide daydream/It's not a plan, not half a scheme"

Doll: "Stranger things than death can happen/To lab rat girls and pretty white rabbits but/Everybody knows that nobody knows that/Everybody's in on everybody's business", "Cigarette burns, laugh lines, wide dimples/If they could see the future back when times were simple/Would they kiss your cheek or yank the bandage off/Let you speak or take advantage of how/If everyone's sick, well then nobody can catch it, and if/Everybody's different how could anybody match/And we're looking through the pockets of the hand-me-downs we've laid out/Wondering if we'll fit into the yesterdays we've played out", "And the big dream sequence where you're found/Guilty of your innocence and gently sent right back to bed/Everybody knows that nobody knows that/Everybody's all up in my motherfucking business/This isn't my first anything. This isn't my first anything/Everybody knows that nobody knows that/Everybody's in on everybody's business/This isn't my first lyric, I know exactly how I should finish it"

Uzi: "Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m taking action/Aye aye, I eye my eyes, I’m gaining traction/Aye aye, I eye my eyes, no more distractions/I’m done relaxing, I am a chemical reaction.", "I’m tripping like a klutz and/I’m rolling like thunder/I'm a snot nosed pothead playing with matches/A rotten spot of mold with/My hands on a cactus/My mouth is dry and my eyes are red/I’m chewing on sand ‘cause the/Desert’s in my head", "I might be a saint worth steeples/I might be the brain of evil/Bad things happen to good people/Good things happen to me."

OH YEAH I LIKE THESE SO MUCH SJSJS-Bibi

#ask #bibi tag

1 note · View note

absainte · 9 months ago

Text

the worst thing about missing people is how you suddenly get excited by something and know it would be interesting to someone. for a second you can't remember they're not here anymore and it makes you smile until you recall that they are gone. you'll never tell them this or anything else. you'll never look at things they liked or you both did without pain eating you alive. you'll hope against hope that this is a nightmare you will wake up from they will be there calling you stupid for it.

how do people live without air? is there a point to a life when it is not reflected in other people? how to feel alive when all of your organs are metaphorically missing and you are lying forgotten in a shallow grave without anyone even realising you are gone at all?

i like the lyrics from this (link) song - how do you become someone who is missed?

depressed musings are me today as i stored away all the unsaid jokes and uncovered topics and they come and go every hour.

somedays i like sitting in my bathtub in the darkness and begging to be saved, because i lost all of my strength so long ago and i cannot dig my way out of this proverbial grave. whenever i try to empty my head - i remember a smile, a word, a glimpse and realise that my whole world is gone. so i hide from my own darkness, because until i have a scrap of hope - i'll keep crawling forward on the ground even if it costs me all of my health and sanity. they are worthless when you are already dead.

there was a film, based on a book and it was called 'white oleander' - it was about a teenage girl whose mum killed her own abusive boyfriend but the mother also happened to be a controlling megalomaniac who loved her fame in prison while her daughter had to go from one bad foster family to the other one. one of the closing lines in the film was 'i see my life as a series of goodbyes' and it was accompanied by a visual of a row of suitcases with dioramas of her life with each foster family (she was an artist and made those).

that is how my life goes - i ran out of people to tell me goodbye and probably only one friend did not purely because i never ran into her in recent times. i lost everyone that i was closest too and the worst of it is that everyone is fine and dandy without me. i'm not even sure why they kept me around in the first place - you don't get over losing people, so how come some do? then again, i'm not sure that i want to be that person again - aloof, closed off, cynical and machiavellian. it was an act i had going on for a long time just to survive my mum's relatives thinking i was a rock they tripped on. and even with this - i miss them too.

it was easier when i was younger as i still had people in my life but the more left, the harder it became. i never learnt how to not lose them either - if there was a situation that caused it - usually it was my fault and usually it was fixable but nobody let me try. i like reading random forums about warring families or bitter and jaded exes who later all hug and kiss it out - the mechanism if that evades me. my solution was not to make mistakes but i'm as human as everyone and they happen and will happen. it haunts me - each time i make up scenarios in my head at how to fix this or that but i might be an air raid siren and nobody would hear me.

all that i can do is sit in the shadows and make sure that my loved ones are safe. if i'm a shitty human being, then i'll be one without anyone around for me to hurt, because despite lacking comprehension of this - it is my fault as it is just ... everyone (besides my mum but we share personalities in a way) ... and strength is in numbers. maybe one day i'll crack the code and become the best person to ever person and everyone will come back? i'll choose to believe that as if i have to trust in anything - i naively will trust that friendship and love will always win in the end.

thank you for tuning into my depressing rant of the day sponsored by gloomy weather. i should just move to my bathtub and make a damn nest inside of it - i'll be miserable in comfort at least!

#mememe.txt #grief #depression

0 notes

dramaticoil · 1 year ago

Text

How privileged

how utterly spoiled and rotten do you have to be

To sit on a high horse and determine whether somebody can be destroyed

That you have the right to create circumstances to kill someone's family

That nothing will ever happen to you

That no one will ever hold you accountable for your actions

That you will simply get away for cutting the arms of... of sick people..

That you have the right to poke and prod sick people and cause them pain, harm

For your games and nothing will happen to you ever

That you will simply get away with this be happy and win

You will flash your masculinity and people will beg you for mercy

You will show your power by beating sick people

And at the end you will win and you will be happy and you will not be accountable for the horrible things that you do

Do not think for once that intentionally caused pain can be taken back after you enjoy it for a great time

By pleading innocence after a long period of watching people in pain

It does not work like that

For all the time that you watch people die

You too will have to watch your loved ones suffer

You too will see your loved ones get humiliated, manipulated and tortured physically and mentally the way you do to others

There are no laughing villains

Whatever you do comes back three times to you

The harder you laugh as you torture people and make fun of the way this struggle and suffer

Remember three times that

Remember the time the entire time that you did this

That too will become three fold

Bad intentions don't die the fester and you will be surrounded in that rotten thing

I have struggled all my life with everything I won't die that easily

And my parents whom you are trying to humiliate and torture

I hope you really like torturing old people because somebody out there is learning from your happiness

And I hope you can learn to live without love

Because there will be people that you love and just the way that you are torturing my old parents

Weak people disturbed people who cannot fight back

Who don't know what is happening to them confused anxious losing their sanity or whatever is left of it

Why you enjoy them struggling and squirming and making a fool of themselves

You have loved ones too, people who did not do anything

After a long time of enjoying this torture don't think that when it will be your time you can ask for mercy or say that is entire period that you enjoyed this torture you just made a mistake

There is no mistake, nobody is mistaken

This harm is real, the time that you are taking from us is real

The life that you are sucking from these old people is very real

What you are doing to us is very real

And these things don't go out in the universe unanswered

Everybody is answerable for the smallest of things... The universe is simply waiting to see what is the extent to which you can take this and then it will give you back three fold

Remember what you did to us

Remember us when you are suffering... Don't act that you do not know why things are happening to you... Remember how you enjoy torture... how you laugh how you bully

When you are getting bullied share these jokes with your bullies

Tell them how much you share the enjoyment of torturing people... Old people weak people sick people... Tell your bullies how much thrill you get... So that you can share the thrill when it happens to you...

Three fold

0 notes

hausofmamadas · 2 years ago

Text

The way I promised myself I’d only spend a half an hour writing this and we are two hours down and countijtnskskskdj

═

✷ If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.

SISKSKKDKJS ALREADY YOODELING bc if I can think of any character that’s overdue for a baptism, it actually would be Frank Castle and I’m sure good Catholic boy, Matt Murdock would agree with me, lbr

✷ ‘Had to put it out somehow,’ he shrugs, ‘seemed like the quickest option.’

PFFFTTTTJDJDJDJ THE WAY HES SO MATTER OF FACT BUT LIKE THE MENTAL IMAGE IN MY HEAD IS LIKE A SCENE FROM JACKASS FOR SOME REASON, LIKE HE’S YELLING, SWEARING, TRIPPING OVER HIMSELF, TRTING TO PUT IT OUT ON LIKE TREES, ROLLING IN THE GRASS, FINALLY SEES A RIVER AND THEN LIKE JUST TUMBLING INTO IT

✷ He’s here because he’s smart enough to realise bacteria will kill him easier and faster than any bullet would.

Godddd no but this has got me so actually woahdeeby bc when we were talking about this, I assumed it was gonna be like the burns themselves being the main danger but this is actually such a pleasantly unexpected turn, I’m tipping my fedora at you like the right, true fuckboi I am

✷ ‘Bathroom, please,’ you tell him. You remember where it is.

YOU👏🏽REMEMBER👏🏽WHERE👏🏽IT👏🏽IS👏🏽 OKAY I FUCKIN SEE YOU WITH THAT SHOW-DONT-TELL BULLSHIT PEOPLE ARE ALWUAS TELLING ME ABOUT. Like godd, the history packed into that one fucking sentence, im marveling and screaming as usual

✷ He’s holding himself rigid—tense arms, straight shoulders—to hide the shakes, you realise. The wet has gotten into the bones ... Why he’s bothering to try and cover it, you don’t know. You’ve seen him in worse shapes.

NOOOOOOSSTOOOOOPPPSPDODODJ BECAUSE THIS IS ACTUALLY SONFXIIIGN SNDJ FUCKING ON POINT FOR HIM. This man has been through SO much, he’s in such a constant state of hypervigilance, he can’t even allow himself to relax in front of someone he obviously knows well enough to like show up, unannounced, like a ghoul in the night. Because being close to death and injured in a way he can’t just patch up himself makes him sSOOOO VULNERABLE IN THIS MOMENT. So like even though it makes no sense to Reader why he’d hide it, it’s like actually completely consistent with his character and now I just wanna smooth his hair over and give the man a hug :no-why:

✷ It’s been a long time since you’d done him a favour. A long time, since you’d been alone with him, for reasons other than why this doesn’t work...

I’m like shaking my fist that my phone rn bc I know this fic is just a little Whumpril slice and I know we’re probably not gonna get a chance to explore the psychological web of fuckery that probably is this relationship bc you simply can’t do that in less than 3k words but I WANNA KNOOWWWWW THE FUCKIN T, LIKE WHA HAPPUNNNNN

✷ ‘Thank-you,’ he begins, which you try to wave off. ‘No, I mean it, I—I know you must hate…’ The words get away from him.

Bien. Mira. Hay alguien que puede contarme why the fact that he’s shivering is like reaching deep inside my tiny tiny soul and pulling on the surely microscopic heartstrings and collapsing my will to resist taking into my surely microscopic heart, yet another blorb?? HWY IS HIM SHIVERING THE THING THATS GETTING ME HEREEEEEEE????????????? if I do permanently lose it for this mf, pls jnow I’m holding you directly responsible and resenting you for it till my dying days, kthxbye

✷ You know what he’s implying. He’s as wrong about it now as he was then.

GESSIDJJEEJSKSKJS HES AS WRONG ABOUT IT NOW AS HE WAS THEN. OH YOU REALLY ARE COMING FOR MY FUCKING SANITY WITH THIS SHIT ARENT YOU. TELLING ME LIES ABOUT BOW THIS SHIT DOESJT SLAP. YOU DID IT ON PURPOSE BC YOU’RE JUST DYING TO SEE ME SHUT AWAY IN A FUCKIGNSIDIDJ NUTHOUSE

✷ The wet lump of them lands on the tiles with a slap, water splattering over your socks.

Sweet Christ, the way I saw, smelt, heard, felt this thing to a T. I’m like literally rubbing my own socks together even though they’re not wet sskskskskjd bc actually there is nothing worse than the sensation of wet socks

✷ Get him warm, get the site disinfected, then cover it in Saran wrap and hope for the best.

THEN COVER IT IN SARAN WRAP SJDDKDJDJDN AND HOPE FOR THE BEST DKSK SORRY DID YOU READ THIS IN THE POORMAN’S MANUAL OF FIRST AID WRITTEN BY CERTAINLY NOT A DOCTOR YOURS TRULYYY IM SHAKING LAUGHING

✷ ... sitting on the edge of the bath in just his boxers. A sorry sight, long past the invitation that it used to be.

Sorry but the way my sick mind is still kinda 😍 bc he’s like all broken down and vulnerable rn sksjsjs see what I mean by the nuthouse, okay? It is imminent at this point

✷ He’s shaking still, and looking up at you like he’s sorry to occupy the space at all.

OHHHHHHHH FRRAAAANK :no-why: IM AVTUALLY THE GIF OF HIM THROWING THE CHAIR AT THIS BC A) POETRY???????????? AND B) THIS POOR MAN. SOMEONE GET HIM A JUICEBOX AND A COOKIE AND TUCK HIM INTO A NICE WARM BED AND TELL HIM THEY LOVE HIM AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE BC I CANT DO IT, I DONT HAVE THE EMOTIONAL BANDWIDTH STRENGTH TO TAKE ON ANOTHER BLORB GO ON

✷ Anything that ends in a list of dead bodies, people he’s killed, is none of your business. That stopped being your problem, the same time he did.

And thank god, bc you are my friend and aren’t entirely trying to destroy my grip on reality, you bring me back to reality, reminding me why I’d never get involved con este menso in the first place isisksksks bc this is me just looking at a potential relationship with Frank Castle. No tengo el tiempo ni la paciencia pa esa locura

✷ You wince. ‘Yeah, looks like you left a bit of your back attached to it.’

THE SOUND I JUST MADE READIGN THIS im hissing right along with Frank and biting my fist bc Jesus fucking Christ I can feel it dude like the idea of scraping your back when it’s already charred to all fuck

✷ But when you move onto the spray, he swears, low and rasping, like he hates you for a moment. Like he’s angry at you, the antiseptic, the base of the bath that he thumps with his heel.

Frank and I are one in the same in this moment and I’m just reading this sjdjdidjdjdjshit

✷ Better than leaving whatever germs live in the Hudson, to fester in the scrapes of his skin.

Sososokekekejwjwjsjsjsj I’m fucking CACKLING RN SKSKSN st the fact that you know actually how foul and fucking disgusting the Hudson River is like idk if you had to look it up or if it’s a well-known fact but as soemone who’s seen it multiple times, it’s a cesspool and I just love the attention to detail

✷ ‘I’m not going to a hospital. I can’t.’ He’s dead already, he means, and waltzing into the ER would ruin the only leg-up he has.

HES DEAD ALREADY!????! IT WOULD RUIN THE ONLY LEG-UP HE HAS???!!!!!!!! I COULD PUNT YOU LIKE A GODDAMN AMERICAN FOOTBALL RIGHT NOW FOR THE FALSEHOODS YOY HAD THE AUDACITY TO FEED ME ABOUT THE WUALITY OF THIS HERE PROSE, AND HOW VERY DARE YOU. TÚ ME HAS ESTADO ALIMENTADO CON PINSHES MENTIRAS

✷ ‘You can’t do any of your righteous, vigilante bullshit with sepsis, you know.’

PFFTTTTKJDJDJDJD THE WAY I AUDIBLY SQUAWKED OUT LOUD AT THIS bc I’m sorry this is just me talking to Frank right here

✷ After the ordeal you put him through, he’s sweating instead. Damp across his brow.

Okay continuing with the theme of lies, this is actually super on-point for someone who’s severely burned. Like not being able to adequately regulate body temperature is a big thing with that for reasons I know but won’t bore you with bc I try to keep my insufferable nerdiness to a bare minimum of 2-3 well-actuallys per annum

✷ ‘Why d’you do it?’ you ask

‘Do what?’ He looks like he might laugh, glancing sideways at you, like he’s itching to say, *you think I toasted myself on purpose?*

NOOOOSTOTIOTITIPPPPPP BC THERES SOMETHING ABOUT FRANK CRACKING A JOKE THWT IS LIKE SO STRANGELY, CONFUSINGLY HEARTBREAKING FOR SOME REASON)?)?????? AND THE FACT THAT LIKE READER CAN SEE HIM ALMOST DO IT BUT THEN NOT, IS LIKE JUST— WHEN IS THE LAST TIME THIS POOR MF HAS ACTUALLY LAUGHED?

✷ You know what makes him do it. You know he can’t function otherwise. If bad coping mechanisms had a poster boy, he would be it. If self-hatred and self-pity was a competition, he’d win. He would lap everyone before they’d even got off the mark.

Once again, bringing me back to my core, my center of sane insanity and pulling me from the bring of unhinged to all fuckdom, here bc if I were to write a PhD dissertation in psychology on Frank Castle, this would actually be the introduction

✷ ‘Well,’ you start, bending the conversation into something liveable again, ‘you’re lucky your ex is so good at first aid.’ You shoulder him, lightly, smiling until he smiles back. Just enough.

STIOOOODPDDOPPPPPPPP NOOOOOO bc first off, “... bending the conversation into something livable again” I’m shaking my fucking fist into a raging storm in the like Lt. Dan from Forest Gump at this PURE FUCKING POETRY, OKAY???????????? But ALSOOO, cue obligatory Spongebob reference reading this, I’m also screwming like SpongeBob in that one ep where he has to write the essay for Mrs. Puff in order to pass his driving test and he goes “my hand, my HAND IS CRAAMMPING MRS PUFF, MAKE IT STOOOOP” ..... remember that part??? ..... oh, no.? Balls, okay.

Hold on .....

…………

……………..

^^^^^^^^ THIS PARTISIDJDJD except swap his hand for my heart and you have a full recreation of what l looked and felt like reading this bit of the two of them BC IT IS JUST:$&:&:&:&:&:$3

✷ ‘Would you have begged if I asked you to?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Would you have turned me away if I didn’t?’

‘No,’ you realise, because you had patched him up too often to let him suffer now. The blood on your hands has to have been worth something. ‘But I’d have taken an extra pass with that spray.’

FIRST OFFF THISISJSKSJS EXCHANGE IS SO SWEET AND WHOLESOME AND LIVED-IN AND REAL also a right bit of me with the taking an extra pass with that spray BUT SECONDLYYYYYYYY THE WAY TOU JUST *PLOP* DROP THAT LITTLE “BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS” LINE AND THEN WALK AWAY IN SLO-MO AS I EXPLODE BEHIND YOU. WHAT BLOOD???? WHST HAS READER DONE??? I WILL NEVER KNOW

✷ He laughs weakly. ‘Yeah, that, I’d probably deserve.’

Because that’s his answer to everything, isn’t it?

ah, I see you’re plagiarizing more lines from my PhD dissertation on Frank Castle. I’ll allow it you’re lucky I’m too adhd to ever be truly litigious, sir

✷ Late, and approaching the longest time you’ve spent with him since the two of you broke up. Any longer and you might forget why.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so betrayed by someone underselling a fic so much, like DO YOU EVEN FUCKING REALIZE HOW MUCH OF AN ACTUAL V I B E THIS IS????????????? Like it’s a little slice but I could fully fucking film that shit?????! Okay? and not to toot my own horn while I toot yours but you have to know it’s good if I wanna film it KEKW

open wounds

frank castle x gn!reader, ex dating, hurt/comfort, 2404 words

for day 6 of whumpril : salve | painkillers | bad coping mechanisms

warnings for burns, implied suicidal intentions, terrible first aid probably

a/n: yknow when you love a character so much that you dont even know where to start with writing about them?? no?? just me?? im shaking in my boots… also huge shout out to @ashlingiswriting for helping with this!!

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa (five times as requested)

He’s dripping wet. Frank, back at your door, for the first time in half a year, and dripping wet from head to toe. His jeans, his hoody, his boots—which must weigh a tonne, if they’re as full of water as the rest of him. He’s scrubbed his face dry, clearly, because the front of his hair is sticking upright, brushed up by the rough of his fingertips, and his cheeks are cleaner than the rest of him. Bare of the grime he’s covered in. If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you scoff, bypassing all other greetings. You don’t even spare the thought to be annoyed at him, to tell him to go away, get out of here, before someone sees you. You just balk, and frown, and hang off the door as you look him over. ‘You look like you went free-diving in the river, Frank.’

He doesn’t respond, just sighs and tilts his head as if to say—

‘Oh my God.’ He did. He jumped into the fucking river. ‘That explains the stink, then.’

‘Yup.’

It’s pouring off him. Stale water, oil spill.

‘Look, I gotta ask you a favour,’ he says, awkward about it, though you’d thought as much already. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.’

And you wouldn’t let him in, either, if you didn’t have to.

Keep reading

#screamblog #frank castle x gn!reader #frank castle #whumpril2023 #the punisher netflix #Youtube

149 notes · View notes

xoxo-teddybear · 3 years ago

Text

The Bakugou Kids - Bakugou Katsuki

(Dad)Bakugou x (Mom)f!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Cursing

Summary: Bakugou and Y/N love their son with their entire beings, but sometimes, parents need a break. Especially when those parents are responsible for creating a literal demon spawn. He is kind, well behaved, and cute of course! But he does have Bakugou blood in him. With Y/N already away on a girls trip, Bakugou has to find out how he’s going to deal with his (now) many, many kids.

A/N: You passed down your duplication quirk down to Katsuo.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You asked your husband as you stood at the doorway. “Katsumi may be a calm baby but she’s still a baby. And Katsuo’s quirk just kicked in and it is mine. I would know how difficult it can be to manage.”

“Stop worrying, Babe. It’s just a duplication quirk. And he’s only 5, how powerful can it really be?”Katsuki said, wrapping his arms around you. “Just go on your little girl’s trip with Ponytail and Racoon Eyes. I can handle the brat.”

You looked at your husband with a raised brow and smile before rolling your eyes and giving him a kiss. “Alright then. I’ll see you in a few days!”

With that, you walked out of the house and into the cab to meet your friends at the resort. Katsuki chuckled before walking back into the house to find his son napping on the couch. His spiky, blonde locks were all messed up with bed head while his E/C eyes he inherited from you remained shut. Katsuki walked over to his newborn daughter and picked her up while he took a seat next to Katsuo’s sleeping form, rubbing at his soft hair until he woke up.

“Can’t be all that bad, right Katsumi?”

The baby girl merely cooed with sparkling ruby eyes that mimicked her father’s.

—

Wow. Wrong. He was so wrong! It had only been 2 days since your departure but things had already gone so wrong! When you said your quirk was difficult to manage, Katsuki thought it would be difficult for Katsuo to manage. Not him!

Katsuki should’ve known his son would’ve taken the opportunity to act out while his mother was away. He had always been your little angel while Katsuki saw him as his little gremlin. With Y/N gone, Katsuo has been pushing all kinds of limits. Limits that had Katsuki beat.

Katsuo had been fortunate enough to inherit a quirk. And not just any quirk, but your quirk. Duplication. Basically, he can create copies of himself. When you were his age, you could only create 4, max. Katsuo was different though. He had Bakugou blood flowing through him. He was advanced the second he was born. So now, Katsuki was stuck looking after Katsumi, Katsuo, and Katsuo’s 16 other copies.

“Aye! Number 15, you’re gonna break that lamp! 11 and 8! Don’t wrestle in the mud! Go take a bath! NUMBER 3 GET OFF THE KITCHEN ISLAND! KATSUMI!” The adult blond screamed, looking for his infant daughter, eventually finding her sleeping in her little rocker on the living room floor. “Oh right, you don’t talk yet.”

Katsuki sighed as he slumped down next to his daughter, and leaned his back against the couch. He looked around the room and saw the 17 Katsuo’s making a ruckus around the house. All he could do was question how the hell is 3 month old daughter could possibly sleep through all this.

Katsuki almost lost all hope for humanity until a knock was heard on his front door. Knowing exactly who was there, he quickly got up from his place on the floor and ran to the entrance. “You idiots are finally here!”

Katsuki pulled in his 3 friends, the boys of the Bakusquad, and slammed the door shut. The 3 friends all stood in shock at the sight of the house. Not that it was overly messy or anything. It’s just that there were about 16 more figures in the house that aren’t usually there.

“You gotta help me!” Katsuki said, running infront of them, shaking his best friend’s shoulders. “I love my kids! I do! I love Katsuo, I swear! BUT I DIDNT SIGN UP TO BE A FATHER OF 18 FREAKING DEVILS!”

“Okay! Okay, relax man. We’re here.” Kirishima said, patting his friend’s shoulder as he wept. “How the hell are we gonna take care of 17 little Bakugous?”

“Right? We thought 1 Kacchan was a lot. Then you brought another one into the world, who apparently brought some unannounced friends.” Kaminari joked.

“They’re demons!” Katsuki exclaimed. “This has to be some fucking Karma for the shit I did. I knew I should’ve listened to my old hag better. Now shits came back to bite me in the- HEY! PUT YOUR SISTER DOWN! SHE’S NOT A FOOTBALL!”

Katsuos number 7 and 5 placed a sleeping Katsumi back in her rocker with an annoyed pout before running off to play something else.

“Welllll, there’s nothing that 3 cool uncles can’t fix!” Sero enthusiastically said. “Hey kiddos! Who’s ready to have some fun?”

All the mini blondes stopped their movements, some freezing mid-air, and looked to the slim man. They all shouted in joy at the sight of their uncles and ran to pounce on the 3 men, including their father. From the point of view of the boys in the Bakusquad, it looked like a Bakugou stampede.

“Run, run, RUN, RUN, RUUUNN!!!!” Kaminari screamed as the boys all ran for their lives to escape the herd of Katsuos. This was going to be an interesting day.

—

Safe to say after the day had passed, the boys of the Bakusquad were completely exhausted. Sero had half his clothes torn, Kirishima’s hair fell from it’s great spikes and even lost some red hues, Katsuki’s eye bags had never been heavier, and Kaminari was just straight knocked the fuck out. They were all thrown across the couch as Katsumi rested in Katsuki’s arms.

“What do we do?” Kirishima exclaimed.

“I don’t know.” Katsuki said, looking at his scrambling son(s). “There’s just too many.”

“And we’ve already lost a soldier.” Sero said pointing to Kaminari’s sleeping form. Katsuki and Kirishima followed his gaze and bowed their heads in respect towards the defeated Kaminari.

“Well now what? Is Bakugou just supposed to live like this for the next 3 days?” Kirishima asked.

“Hell no. If I do, there’s not gonna be anymore Katsuki. I’ll just be some body without a soul because my damn gremlins sucked it outta’ me.” Katsuki said with his head dropped down.

“Well how do we get them to calm down?” Sero questioned.

“I don’t know. They’re all mini me’s. Nobody could get me to relax.” Katsuki said in defeat, but that’s when Kirishima had a lightbulb go off for him.

“Except for Y/N!” The red head said, popping up from his seat on the couch.

“Uh, if you haven’t noticed Shitty Hair, this all started because she’s away on her trip.” Katsuki said with sarcasm as he looked at his friend as if he was an idiot.

“I know that! But Y/N wasn’t the only one to tame you, Bakugou!” Kirishima said in excitement.

“So then who else?” Katsuki asked.

“You know,” Kirishima smirked. “Denki’s favorite person. Y/N and.........”

It took Katsuki a second before his eyes popped when he finally got it. “No!”

“Yes!” Kirishima said.

“No way! We’re not going to her!” Katsuki complained.

“Who?” Sero asked.

“Nobody!” Katsuki screamed.

“Oh it’s somebody alright! Somebody who was able to tame the beast in Bakugou the second he was born!” Kirishima said.

“Who?” Sero asked. Katsuki finally sighed before he gave in, realizing this was his only hope for sanity. He grabbed his phone and made a quick call before explaining to his dark-haired friend.

“The demon of all demons...”

—

The door opened to reveal a tall standing brunette and an elder feminine blonde.

“...My mother.”

—

The boys of the Bakusquad all sat lined up on the couch as Mitsuki stood at Katsuki’s end and smacked her son’s head.

“You idiots! Y/N leaves for 2 days and all hell breaks lose?!” Mitsuki screamed at the 3 young men.

“You old hag! Quit hitting me! Ima’ grown man for crying out loud!” Katsuki screamed as he rubbed his head. Masaru simply bounced the sleeping Katsumi in his arms as he watched the scene play out.

“Well if you’re such a grown man then why can’t you manage your own kids without your wife’s help?!” Mitsuki argued, leaving Katsuki silent as he grumbled. The eldest blonde sighed before continuing. “Alright listen, I’ll watch these little devils for the next few days until Y/N comes back. I’d love to spend some time with my grandbrats. Why don’t the 3 of you go take a break and-“

“THANKS! Let’s go losers!” Katsuki said dragging his friends to the exit. Mitsuki and Masaru only laughed at their son’s behavior as they began tending to the kids.

The boys of the Bakusquad all quickly walked out of the house and headed for their cars as they all walked together.

“So, where to?” Sero asked.

“We could go head up that new resort in Tokyo!” Kaminari suggested.

“Naahhh. That’s where Y/N’s having her girl’s trip. Wifey would kill me if she saw me there instead of at home with the kids.” Katsuki said with his hands in his pockets. Kirishima raised his brow at this.

“Oh? So then, maybe we should go back and-“

“You know, on second thought,” Katsuki said with wide eyes once Kirishima made the suggestion. He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them behind his friend’s backs to keep them moving. “Maybe she won’t kill me..if I’m lucky..and wish..upon a shooting star....a million times over. Hah.....yeah. TO THE RESORT!”

As they walked, Kaminari attempted to look at the house once more, prompting Katsuki to turn his friend’s head back around. “No, no, no, don’t look back, they can smell fear.”

1K notes · View notes

bibbykins · 3 years ago

Note

jungkook.... whining... while oc rides his dick.... brain is shortcircuiting rn

I... I have no words for how this came out of me at the speed it did. This is kinda funny to put out when the next parts are gonna be pretty sad (not too sad ofc) but lmao nonetheless

So, Beg (M)

Words: 1.2k

Note: This is a drabble for The Household's Bunny Series

Pairing: Soft yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Camgirl! Reader

Warnings: 18+, dom/sub dynamics, riding, whining, name-calling, flustered jk, cream pie, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, brat! reader, finger sucking

Jungkook knew many things about himself, arguably he knew even more about you. The most basic being you were a sub and he was a hard dom. There had never been any question about how well puppy dog eyes fit on your face as you begged for sweet release and the way a sadistic smile would curve onto his features as he ripped your request to shreds. He was cruel, dastardly, and evil. He was a cry baby brat's worst nightmare, your worst nightmare, and if you didn't know that by now, after this little show, you would be learning that lesson days after it ends.

"Fuck." He grit out as he threw his head back.

If only he could focus on how sorry you would be among the base need to empty himself within you as you swirled your hips slowly.

You clicked your tongue, "Kook, that's a bad word." You stated matter-of-factly, "I told you to say nice words if you want to be rewarded." You clenched around him but ceased movement when he tried to push his hips up, a difficult task considering how his limbs were tied to his bedposts as you had been countless times before.

He let out a breathy laugh, "You're just so soft and tight, bunny." He resisted the urge to tell you all about how screwed you were. He did agree to let you take control, figuring you would hardly know what to do. Had he known Taehyung had given you tips beforehand, he would've never agreed to this torture, "C'mon, baby, be nice to me." He did his best not to make it sound like a command but the pressure in his dick as it pulsed inside you did him no favors.

You rolled your eyes at his poor attempt to get mercy. Flattery was the oldest trick in the book, and one you had mastered, so he would have to try much harder. You looked down at the idol before you and fought the urge to sigh dreamily, "You're so pretty, Koo." You mused, hands rubbing over his defined abs and slowly making your way up his chest, "I never knew you would look this cute all needy and desperate." You could see his face flush even more as you rolled your hips against him slowly. Letting out a shaky breath you continued, "Don't you think you're a cutie?"

His eyes rolled back as you leaned down, breasts pressing against him, while your mouth hovered over his, "Baby." He tried to warn you but only received a light kiss.

"Say you're a cutie." You ordered, "And maybe I'll move some more, hm?"

Jungkook was no stranger to praise, and he knew he was attractive. His physical appearance had rarely been an issue to him, but with the way you looked down on him, he couldn't help but hesitate, "That's ridiculous-"

"Bad." You giggled against his ear before your lips found purchase on his neck, sucking harshly and enjoying the groan you ripped from him, "Tell me you're a cutie."

Jungkook found himself weak when it came to your affection and had no choice but to surrender, at least a little.

He sighed, "I'm a cutie, now just-" The words died on his tongue as you sat up and pulled yourself from him before sinking back down. He swore nirvana was on the horizon as you swiveled your hips.

"So hard for me." You gasped out, nails pressing into his stomach. Fuck, he loved when you marked him up, "Feels good." You moaned with a small giggle.

He nodded, his release gaining on him after what felt like hours of this torment, "It does, so sweet and tight-"

You couldn't fight your smile much longer as you stopped moving again. The disgruntled noise that left Jungkook’s lips only drew out your laughter, "So beg for it." You challenged, leaning down to look him in the eyes, "Beg me to ride you till you cum." The flare of dormant dominance in his eyes made you clench around him. You were sure if you hadn't reinforced the silk ties, he would've broken out ages ago.

"Bunny." He grit out, definitely warning you but the brokenness of his tone while your walls fluttered around his cock made it significantly less intimidating.

Unable to hold back much more, you captured his lips in a messy kiss. Your hands cupped his face as his tongue tangled with yours, "Beg, and I'll ride you till we both cum." You offered and he groaned, "Misbehave, and I ride you till I cum and have you use your hand to finish." You pouted, bouncing a little, chipping away at his sanity.

"You can't be serious-" He groaned when a hand of yours reached down to rub your clit in slow circles, but he could feel you clench around him in pleasure.

You grabbed his face with one hand, fingers slightly squishing into his cheek. Your grip was much more gentle than his, but it surprised him nonetheless, "Now, now, be good." You trailed your fingers that had previously been on your clit to his mouth, "Think about it." You whispered as he took your fingers in his mouth, licking messily to taste you as much as he could, "You wanna cum inside me? Fill me up nice and full? Make me your pretty little bitch?" The profanity only made his eyes roll back as he lathed his tongue over your digits and nodded. You ripped your fingers from his mouth and a whine bubbled in his throat, making you smile that beautiful smile he loved so dearly, "So beg me, sweetheart."

He was losing patience and control, "Please, bunny, ride me." He muttered.

"What was that, pet?" You provoked a glare from him with a sly smile.

"I need to fill you up, my pretty bunny." He rasped as you began moving slowly, "Please, I need you." The whine in his voice pushed your hips at a quicker pace that made him throw his head back against the pillow and moan.

"Sound so pretty for me." You cooed with a shaky voice as you found your high approaching way quicker than you expected, your sex feeling the effects of teasing Jungkook as long as you did, "I'm not gonna last long." There was a breathless chuckle in your voice that made his heart melt.

"Cum for me, baby." He groaned, "Fuck, I want you to cum nice and pretty for me and I'll fill you up." He wanted so badly to thrust his hips up and make you fall apart but as your nails dug into his skin while you cried out his name, he couldn't help the gratification of having the girl he admired ride him so desperately.

Seeing this needy and sweet Jungkook was more than enough to send you over the edge as you called his name with a scream while you fell apart. It didn't take long for him to follow you into the depths of desire.

Minutes later, you've untied him and collapsed on top of him with heaving breaths, "You know when I catch my breath, you're gonna get it, right?" He breathed and you looked up at him tiredly with a pout.

"Do you know how hard it was trying to control you?" You accused, "Cut me some slack."

He chuckled and it was one of your favorite songs, "Imagine how I feel with how much of a brat you are."

You gasped in fake offense and went to smack his chest but he grabbed your hand and used the leverage to flip you both over and capture you in a deep kiss. His stamina was really no joke.

Tip Jar

#yandere bts #yandere bts smut #bts smu #jungkook smut #the household bts

530 notes · View notes