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julymusings · 15 hours ago

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Jason is the type of person to put on some shitty romance movie only for his date to fall asleep and for him to get strangely invested.

are you still watching?

i saddle up my horse and I ride into the city. i make a lot of noise 'cause the girls they are so pretty. riding up and down broadway on my old stud leroy, and the girls say...

or; 3 times Jason Todd gets hooked on your television choices [3.7k]

jason todd x fem!reader; this is so real...and so clever!!! i LOVE the concept. i did get a little carried away and lost the plot unforch...pt3 is just a sex dream ab cowboy!jason so. also I apologize for taking forever to respond. tw...klance mentioned💀 & suggestive but not explicit. and i do bash on voltron in pt2 a little but it's all in good fun🫶i did my time with them divider

“Baby, I love you, but if you don’t pick something soon I’ll call Dick in here to entertain us with his backflips.”

“Oh, be quiet,” you huff. Though as you scroll, once again, through all the options on Netflix, you fear his threat may be serious.

You reach the bottom of the page, having found nothing. You peek at Jason from the corner of your eye and hover the cursor over the ‘Back to Top’ button.

“No.” He reaches to grab the laptop from you, but his injuries hinder his usual swiftness. You shriek in objection and roll away to the other side of the bed, computer held tight in your clutches.

“Babe.” He groans. He tries to reach across the bed to you, but his grasp falls short by mere centimeters as you frantically begin another scan of the site.

“I will find something, I promise!” You say. “Just one more minute!”

He rolls his eyes. “You said that ten minutes ago. And I’m the one who’s injured, shouldn’t I get to pick?”

You spare him a glance, pondering over his wrapped foot elevated on a pillow, and the bandages around his torso. His arm has fallen flat on his bed, having given up on its attempt to catch you. That alone should guilt you into saying yes; his childhood bed is just shy of too small for his adult self, so being unable to reach the other end speaks to the severity of his pain. And to add salt to the wound, you know he isn’t exactly fond of staying at his father’s house, but he is in no shape to recuperate alone.

“I would say yes, but you don’t know any good shows! All you watch is Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.”

He scoffs. “I thought you liked that show!”

You scoff back, imitating him. “I did. But a person can only stand so much of Guy Fieri talking with his mouth full.”

He quiets, probably searching for a rebuttal, but you can’t imagine he’ll find any. You use the opportunity to resume your search unimpeded.

After a few minutes, you perk up. “Ooh, they added New Girl on Netflix!” You scoot back over on the bed to his side, satisfied with your choice.

“What is that?” Jason asks.

You whip your head to him. “You don’t know New Girl?”

He pushes a stray hair behind your ear, eyes narrowed. “Should I?”

Your eyes flit to the computer screen, then back to him, and you sigh. “No, I guess not.”

You’re about to press play on the first episode but stop yourself. “Do you want to choose? You’re already hurting enough, I don’t want to torture you with this too. Besides, I’ve seen it, like, a million times anyway.”

“No, it’s okay.” He turns the computer towards him and presses play. “I don’t need any of my siblings barging in and catching me enjoying Guy Fieri. I’d never hear the end of it.”

You titter at his remark and set your laptop in the middle of you, a little farther away so you don’t have to crane your neck to see the screen. He lifts his arm to drape it around you but struggles with raising it past shoulder level. You meet him halfway by ducking underneath his arm and settling it over your shoulders. He kisses the top of your head in thanks.

Leaning against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing is too hypnotic for you to focus. Paired with the warmth of his skin, bare so as not to obstruct access to his wound dressings, you are quickly lulled to sleep.

It must be several hours later when movement against you disturbs you from sleep. The room is almost pitch black, save for the dim glow of the computer, still on and resting on your legs a few feet away. The air is thick with late-night silence, and fighting against the heaviness of your eyelids is so laborious that you have to use your hand to pry them open. Jason is squirming next to you, hand outstretched, low huffs of pain slipping from his mouth.

A shot of adrenaline courses through you and you stumble into action.

“What happened? What hurts?” The laptop tips off your legs and falls to the bed, landing on its side as you scramble to your knees and face him. “Should I get someone?”

“What? No, I— I’m fine, why?” He squints at you through the darkness.

“You—” Your throat catches and you take a deep, steadying breath. “It sounded like you were in pain.”

“No, honey, I’m fine. It’s okay. You can go back to sleep.” Jason takes your wrist and gently pulls you back into his side. You don’t budge.

“Then why were you moving?” You scan him for any signs of a worsening injury. Downplaying his own pain is not something you can put past him, unfortunately.

“I…” His eyes look past you for a quick second. He swallows. “I wasn’t,” he says, unconvincingly.

You narrow your eyes at him, then turn around to see what he is looking at, despite his (false) reassurances. Your laptop, still on its side, lies awake and open to the Netflix website. You pick it up to get a closer look at the screen. The player has gone dark, and overcast in white lettering; ‘New Girl: Are you still watching?’

You turn back to Jason, dumbfounded. “You risked hurting yourself…for this?”

Now adjusted to the darkness, you can see his cheeks tinged with pink. “No?”

“Jason.”

“You’re the one who put it on!”

You check the clock in the corner of the screen.

“It’s three AM, Jay. You need to sleep if you want your body to heal.” You argue.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” He defends. “I can’t sleep sitting up, and I need help lying down.” he fails to meet your eyes as he says this.

You cross your arms, tilting your face to catch his gaze. “And what am I doing here?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he mumbles.

You just stare. It takes fifteen seconds for him to break.

“Fine. I was enjoying the show. I wanted to keep watching. Happy?” He punctuates his statement with a shrug but groans through a clenched jaw, remembering the injuries to his upper body.

“Okay, just—” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “It’s too late for this. Can we please go to sleep?” You don’t wait for an answer, shutting the laptop and placing it on the bedside table.

He leans off the headboard so you can help him shift his body down the bed and lie flat, and you lie down next to him.

“Comfy?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Need anything?”

“No.”

“Okay. Goodnight,” you whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jason says quietly.

You snuggle into his side. It’s quiet for a few minutes, but you can tell by his breathing pattern that he’s still awake. He whispers your name into the darkness, hoping you’re still awake.

“Yes, honey?” You answer.

There is a beat of silence. Then, “When do Nick and Jess get together?”

“Go to sleep.”

ii.

Jason leans against the kitchen counter behind him, hands in his pockets, as he watches the microwave dish spin in a slow circle. It whirs under the yellow lightbulb, the flat paper packet puffing up among raucous popping. With sixty seconds left to kill, he searches the cabinets for a large enough bowl to fit the family-size packet of popcorn, as well as the various add-ons you adore.

The first time you invited Jason over for a movie night, in the beginning stages of your relationship, he looked on in wonder as you combined the grocery store’s entire snack aisle into one salty, sugary, buttery abomination in a jumbo Hello Kitty bowl.

“How do you even come up with something like this?” He had asked, ripping open the bag of pretzels as you emptied the fresh batch of popcorn into the bowl.

“Wait!” You stopped him just before he could pour the pretzels in. “Sugary stuff first. While it’s still hot. Then it gets all melty and good.” You dumped an entire bag of mini marshmallows, caramels, and M&M’s in, and gave it a few stirs. “And to answer your question, I was in high school and experiencing intense munchies.”

You gave him the OK to add the pretzels, so he did. “I envy your dentist,” he said, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Now, with plenty more movie nights under his belt, you trusted him enough to assemble your party mix on his own while you select something to watch.

The microwave beeps. As he rips open the popcorn bag, you yell from the living room.

“Hey, what about The Bourne Identity?” You call out. “Have you—? Wait.” You cut yourself off.

“What’s it about?” He yells back. You don’t answer. “Babe?” He calls again.

“Never mind! I’m gonna keep looking!”

He adds the sugary snacks first, stirring them until they melt, just how you like it. He’s tearing into the bag of pretzels when he hears you shriek.

He drops the bag and bolts to the living room, pretzels scattering all over the counter and floor.

“What happened?” His eyes bounce around the entire room, scanning for any threat.

He’s unsure what he expected to find, but it was a tad more perilous than you simply sitting on the couch, staring open-mouthed at the TV.

“Uh…nothing. Sorry.” Your face flushes. The remote is still raised and pointed at the screen.

“Vol…tron?” Jason reads from the title sequence that plays in the preview window. “Is this some kind of anime?”

“No…sort of, maybe,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. I'm just surprised to see it is all. I loved this show when I was younger.”

“Is it any good?” He asks.

You look to the side, thinking about it. You settle on: “Define good.”

His forehead wrinkles, mouth falling slightly open. “Did you…enjoy watching it?”

“Define enjoy.”

“Okay, forget I asked.” He sighs and goes back to the kitchen.

When he returns a few minutes later, floor pretzels in the trash and counter pretzels swept into the bowl, you’re already watching the first episode.

“This your choice?” He asks. You take the bowl in your lap and he settles down next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Definitely not. Just wanted to reminisce until you got back.” You frown at the bowl. “Where are all the pretzels?”

He chuckles. “That’s what you get for screaming. Dropped ‘em on the floor.”

You pout. “I didn’t scream. I was surprised. Now the ratio’s off, there’s not enough saltiness to balance the sweetness.”

“Poor baby,” he croons sarcastically. “Only getting a quarter bag of pretzels ‘stead of a full.”

You were going to switch the television to a movie you both liked, but you spent the entire first episode bickering about the important role each ingredient plays in, what you call, “The Party Mix Experience”. The next episode auto-played on its own, and you let it.

During the second episode, you and Jason were absorbed in a competition to see who could catch more flying popcorn pieces in their mouth (Jason), which then devolved into seeing who could dodge more popcorn kernels thrown to the face (also Jason).

By the beginning of episode three, you settled into meaningless chatter while paying half-hearted attention to the TV screen, and by the end, you were laid out on the couch, head in Jason’s lap, while you scrolled on your phone and he stroked your hair. You drifted to a light sleep, coaxed by his fingers scratching at your scalp.

When you wake from your nap, there’s a blanket draped over you and Jason’s hand is still settled in your hair. You push yourself up to sit beside him, speaking through a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”

Jason adjusts the blanket so it covers both of you. “Um…I dunno. Three episodes, maybe.”

“You’re still watching,” you remark, as the end credits for episode six begin to roll.

He says nothing. You both stare as the auto-play timer for the next episode counts down. Next to the remote, his fingers twitch.

You purse your lips, suppressing a grin. “You know, there’s quite an online community for people who like this show.”

“Ha. Were you part of it?” He muses.

“Yup. And I deserve a medal of valor for my time in those trenches.” You kiss his cheek and stand up, stretching your arms. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly with weariness.

You turn toward the bedroom when a call of your name stops you.

“Is it just me, or is something goin’ on between the red guy and the blue guy?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh. It’s loud and pitying. You bend down to cup his cheek and draw him in for a kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Babe!” He yells after you as you disappear into the bedroom. “You didn’t answer my question!”

iii.

It’s only a Hallmark movie, but with how he’s reacting, it might as well be six hours of paint drying. Jason is not eager to spend his night watching some boring, formulaic cliché, but it's late and you don't have anything better to do.

“That is absolutely not true,” he says when you counter his protests with this excuse.

“It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jay. Is there anything else to do, except sleep?” You rub your tired eyes. Both of you could use some sleep but, burrowed as you are under a pile of blankets, moving all the way from the couch to the bed seems impossible.

He leans in close, lips brushing against your ear. “I can think of a few things.”

His warm breath tickles your neck, and you feel a shiver despite the heat you’ve conserved in your little blanket burrito. The faintest of kisses is pressed behind your ear, and his eyes glint with familiar mischief when he pulls back.

You brush him off, rolling your eyes in amusement. “Do any of those things involve flannel-wearing farmer hunks or the True Meaning of Christmas?”

Turning back to the television, you take the remote from his hands, catching the tail end of a disgruntled mumble about how ‘I can buy a flannel…’

He grumbles a few more complaints during the movie’s first act (‘he’s not even that hunky’) before you scold him to silence. Once he’s quieted, and you settle more comfortably into him, your head is nestled securely in the crook of his shoulder with arms wrapped around his bicep. The warmth of him has you fighting against the tempting call of REM. Right around when the independent, successful, businesswoman protagonist discovers the handsome, flannel-clad man who helped repair her car is also the single father who runs an honest family business, you start to drift off, falling asleep amid thoughts of wearing plaid in the countryside.

You open your eyes to find yourself standing in a vast, open field.

Thump. Thump.

It’s unclear where the sound is coming from, but a splash of red in your periphery stands out. You turn; there’s a barn off in the distance.

Thump.

Your legs carry you in its direction. Growing closer by the second, the thumping sound echoes louder in your ears. When you round the corner of the structure, the front doors are propped wide open by cement blocks, and bales of hay are stacked outside the doors. A large figure, whose back is to you, is lugging a bale by its straps. He hauls it onto his shoulder, and his shirtsleeves tighten around his thick arms. He brings it to the barn, tossing it onto a pile of more hay bales. It lands with that same thump.

When he turns around, it’s in slow motion.

The sleeves of his plaid flannel are rolled up his arms, exposing his large, veiny forearms. Under the flannel, he sports a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots that give him an extra inch of height. His face and chest are shiny with sweat, and his shirt is soaked through. He holds a toothpick between gritted teeth.

It’s Jason. In a cowboy hat.

He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. Its dampness makes it stay slicked back rather than settling into its usual shape where little curls are always falling over his eyes. Then, he sees you. A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. He puts his hat back on and removes the toothpick so he can speak.

“Hey there, little lady,” he drawls lazily, the Gotham accent you’re so accustomed to replaced with a southern twang. It does something to you that you’re a little embarrassed to admit. He looks you up and down, pausing above your knee for a split second before continuing.

“Hi,” you say, averting your gaze from where it had zeroed in on a droplet of sweat running down his neck. Your face burns redder than his beautifully sun-kissed cheeks.

He chuckles. “You jus’ gonna stand there or you gonna lend a hand? Compost ain’t gonna turn itself.”

He easily hauls up another bale, and you follow him into the barn.

You watch as he shirks it onto the pile, then repeats with the remaining few bales. He seems to forget you’re standing there as he gets so absorbed in his work, expression tightening in focus. You lean on the wooden post behind you and soak it in; every sound, every flexed muscle, every display of firm strength has you feeling like the air has been punched out of you. He carries the final bale into the barn and his low grunt as he throws it off his shoulder has a swooning sigh escape you. It catches his attention.

Your chest tightens in embarrassment as he prowls closer. He leans over you, hand against the wooden post right above your head. With him this close, a smattering of freckles is visible over the bridge of his nose, likely due to all the sun exposure. Huffing and sweaty, his eyes drag down your face and stop at your mouth. He swallows hard, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

He lifts his free hand to trace over the thin strap of your top. His fingers ghost over the skin, barely touching. “This is pretty,” he says, voice low. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ all the way out here?”

And you just can’t help it anymore. You lurch up to him, desperate to close the space between you. You kiss him hard, and he kisses you back, his hand rising from your shoulder to grip the side of your neck. His thumb brushes your jaw, and your hands grip the material of his flannel, yanking it down to bring him even closer. You pull him against you so roughly that your head bumps the post behind you from the force. He smirks, teasing, into the kiss as his hand comes to cup the back of your head.

“Easy, sweetheart. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” After getting his fill from your lips, he slowly graces a path to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping as he goes. His relaxed leisure perfectly juxtaposes your frantic hunger for him.

You grip his face and pull his mouth back to yours, kissing him with even more fervor. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down with little care for gentleness, and tug at the skin. He groans, and it rumbles deep in his throat. You soothe the spot with your tongue, and your eyes roll back into your head at the salty taste of his skin. As his tongue slides between your lips, he removes the hand that’s leaning onto the post and settles it on the skin of your thigh. It drags upward, feeling every inch of skin on his fingertips before disappearing under the hem of your skirt. At the same time, your hands slide down his body. His touch explores higher, and yours slips under his shirt to ground yourself on the hard skin of his abdomen, which has become slick with sweat.

The sound you make is debauched, coming from the deepest recesses of your stomach. He pulls back, wearing a cheeky smile. He opens his mouth to speak and says—

“Wait, what the fuck?”

You jerk awake. Jason is yelling.

“Why would you go with him?” He exclaims at the TV, and then turns to exclaim to you, “Why would she go with him?”

You stare at him, agape, trying to process your surroundings and asking yourself what just happened.

“Shit. Were you asleep?” Jason puts his outrage on hold.

You nod. “Yeah— yes.” Your voice comes out scratchy and hollow. “I was.”

“Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says. His eyebrows furrow. “Are you hot?”

“What?”

“You look warm.” He presses the back of his hand to your flushed neck. “Is it too many blankets?”

Though his hand is cool, you feel even warmer, the image of his hand gripping that same spot of your neck flashing through your mind.

“I’m…good,” you say. “I think I’ll go to bed.” You dig yourself out of the shell of blankets and stand, but he doesn’t follow.

“Oh.” Jason glances at the TV, which is still in a commercial break. “You— did you want me to come?”

You don’t know what to say.

“The, uh…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you have to stifle a gasp. “The guy from her successful city life tracked her down to the small town to get back together. She said yes.” Then he sighs, sounding genuinely distressed. “There’s no way they’d end it like that, right? He was awful to her!”

At this, you crack a smile. “Do you want to finish the movie, Jason?” A hint of satisfaction seeps into your tone.

He clears his throat. “…Maybe.”

You plop back down on the couch with a hum. He interlaces your fingers and kisses the back of your hand before redirecting his attention to the screen.

“Babe?” You ask.

“Hm?” He answers, not looking away from the movie.

“Do you own any flannels?”

SAVE A HORSE RIDE A COWBOYYYYYYY

love when u leave messages and feedback it feeds my praise kink

for part one: cut to me sitting up in bed shrugging my shoulders over and over again to see which muscles it uses and if that coincides with the injuries i gave him to see if that action causing him pain makes sense (it was inconclusive so i made his injuries vague oopsie)

for part two: the bourne identity (2002) is a movie about a guy named jason who wakes up not knowing where or who he is and somehow has elite training in combat and surveillance, though he doesn't know where it's from. he runs around functioning on pure instinct to survive while getting bits of his memory back, remembering that whoever he worked for was cutthroat, expected him to obey no matter what, and forget the person he used to be before joining their mission. sound familiar?

for part three: cut to me genuinely tweaking while proofreading bc i let my friend read it and so rereading it, knowing that she read it, was so embarrassing. i was screaming into my pillow & it took 20 minutes to get through 2k words bc i had to keep taking breaks. not an exaggeration

If any of you saw me change the theme of my masterlist 5 times yesterday only to change it back to what it was before…no you didn’t

#jason todd #red hood #batman #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #nightwing #dick grayson #jason todd x you #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #dc robin #robin #bruce wayne

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muirmarie · 2 days ago

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mccoy and spock get together towards the end of the five year mission, and spock is very, "obviously the doctor is aware that vulcans do not have casual relationships and almost always mate for life" and mccoy is, of course, "getting that damn vulcan to open up is like pulling teeth, how am i supposed to know how he feels about me" and this causes new and exciting problems when they're trying to sort out what they're DOING after the end of the five year mission

and mccoy is trying to subtly figure out if spock has any interest in being stationed together, and spock is, of course, the doctor is my mate, of course we will stay together, and mccoy gets offered this really exciting opportunity at a cutting edge research station that's still hands on enough with patients that it's perfect for him, and he kind of tosses it out there one evening to spock, hoping to get something from the bastard, and instead spock just skims through and stone face is like "in my opinion you should accept, it is precisely the opportunity you've been looking for" and mccoy sits there after spock leaves, like okay!!! i guess we're breaking up?? is this not even enough of a relationship for him to consider it a break up??? i may have to kill him. no jury would convict me. what! is! he! thinking!, and spock goes back to his quarters and immediately sends them a message like "i would like to apply for a position as well :)"

and mccoy still won't fucjing SAY what he MEANS because he doesn't want to be left vulnerable now that he's convinced himself that spock simply Doesn't Care Enough, and every time he at least tries to get like, some meaningful goodbye moments???? spock keeps blowing him off??? meanwhile spock is like "it is rewarding to know that the doctor wants to spend time with me, but i know he will miss our friends, and as his mate it is important for me to make sure he spends enough time with his friends before we all leave the ship", and then when mccoy says he's going to go visit joanna before he starts his new assignment, spock's like =/ wish he invited me along but I will respect his wishes and says he's going to go to vulcan between assignments, and then it's over! they're saying goodbye! and spock! just! leaves! and mccoy is just. absolutely furious and trying So Hard to Not Care but also!!! so!!!! furious!!!!

so anyway imagine his surprise when he arrives at the research facility for his new assignment three weeks later, and they're like "doctor mccoy!! so nice to meet you! your husband arrived two days ago, and he took it upon himself to set up your shared quarters and your office to your liking, but let us know if you need anything else, we're so thrilled to have you on board!"

and mccoy is just.

"i'm sorry. what did you just say?"

and spock comes walking out like everything is normal, and gives him the little vulcan finger kiss, and turns to the welcome party and says, "husband is a simplification of a vulcan term - we have not performed the human marriage rites, but he is my mate"

anyway yeah mccoy probably tries to strangle him.

they make a great first impression.

#star trek #star trek the original series #st:tos #spones #leonard mccoy #spock #tos writing ref

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canihaveacalmtime · 3 days ago

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"Here's your hot cocoa, have a good evening!"

You receive your drink as you bow, thanking the employee and go outside to find a seat. As you sat next to a decorated christmas tree, you look in front of you and see a giant build board printed a familiar face on it.

Should you be proud to know that your memory is very good because you could recognize your highschool bully?

Probably not, haha...

You take a sip of your cocoa, thinking about what had happened in the past between the two of you.

--------------------------

It's like any other highschool bully story that everyone always read, during your first year, you were picked on by the richest and the most handsome guy in school and he forced you to do his homework everyday for 2 years. Tormenting you in the halls, drag you out whenever his mood isn't it, making you a laughing stock for the whole school.

But why only 2 years? Because everything went upside down for him when the last year started.

His parents had enough of him and brutally cut off his bank account, told him that either he learn how to work hard or he'd never get his hands on his father company. When he thought that his long time friends would still be there to support him through this, they quickly turn their backs on him upon knowing that he has no use left to them.

During the time he was at his worst, you stepped in and offer him a helping hand, telling him that you will help him with everything for this last year and in return, he must comply with your one request and can not decline.

He was wary at first when you suddenly did that but he had no other choices as there was no one else except you that would help him anyways.

And he was not disappointed for trusting you, you supported him through every single thing, improved his grades making him in the top 50 of the school, engaged him in participating in that model contest and also fulfil the role of being a friend that he can rely on.

When the school year end came, it was also time he hear your request. You couldn't remember much about anything other than what you said, you can't remember how the scenery looked like, what the principal was saying on stage, even the look on his face because after you said it, you left immediately.

"Let's never cross paths ever again in this life, that is my request."

--------------------------

You realized that your cup is now empty just like how the streets are also beginning to be, so you throw the cup into the trash can and walk home.

You wonder back to the times when you were teaching him the subjects, you would sometime catch him staring in an obsessive way at you but you didn't really care back then because your hatred for him was too much but now that you moved on, you wonder why he was staring at you like that.

"He also said something after I left that day but I couldn't hear what it was.." You mumble as you step out of the elevator to your apartment only to be greeted with a door that is not locked at all.

Your movements were hesitant, slowly, you open the door with cautious as you also carefully step inside your home. Right after you had closed the front door, a sudden sting on your neck send you off balance, fall into someone's arms and fainted immediately.

"Come get me at the apartment now." The tall figure said through a bluetooth headphone device on his ears.

Your bully smile down at you with a creepy smile, inhaling your familiar scent as he hug you close and tightly around his arms.

"You can tell me to do anything, give you anything, to die even. Anything but letting you leave."

--------------------------

After they said those words, my world seemed like crashing down on me in seconds.

I guess I have no other choice but to fulfil a different request from them in the future then.

"I shall have you in my arms when we meet again, love."

--------------------------

(ayy pov change :D)

#calmwrites #yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere bully #yandere x reader #gn reader #fem reader #male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere scenarios

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kumasakka · 3 days ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ❝ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ! ❞

⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. he gets saved by strange photographer girl and gets persuaded to start his life all over, a new beginning he didn't deserve.

⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. y.seongji x reader .

⋆.˚ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. ~1.2k .

⋆.˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. crack, a little. (kinda) plantonic. f!reader. self - made au ! [reader saves to the person who deserved it the most in lookism] . spoiler - warning . safe for minors! crappy writing. seongji may seem ooc .

　SNAP !

The male figure, lost in thoughts, got pulled out of his trance, averting his gaze to a woman who held a camera in her hands. Not a moment passed as you lowered your camera to meet his eyes, now staring at him with a smile. "Sorry. I was passing by and then I saw you, going deeper into the water." you explained yourself before taking a good look into the gallery.

"You should stop here or you'll get lost in the ocean." she said while inspecting the shot she took, "it's actually pretty good."

Did she just take a picture without asking? But on other hand, it doesn't matter. He'll drown himself anyway.

"Wow, are you a model?" she asked, finally looking up again.

Just to see him walking away, deeper into the sea. "H-Hey!—" her eyes widened, immediately making her was to him, yet the water was slowing her down. "What are you doing?!" she questioned and took a hold around his wrist, "you could die but I won't let you! Hey, you stranger!—" the woman let out a huff, letting her camera hang around her neck before wrapping her arms around his torso.

"Let go!" those were the first words he let out of his mouth, gripping onto your arms that were hugging him tightly.

"No, are you stupid?! If you go further, drag me with you!" you cried out, "or maybe I'm as stupid as you!"

Suddenly — he lost his balance because of your unexpected, added weight, stumbling down while also taking you with him. The moment you two were falling, he wrapped his arms around you as if it was to protect you. His back crashed down into the sea, the water cushioned the fall and let you two sink into it. You opened your eyes again, pushing yourself up.

"Erm... Sorry! And thanks!" you puffed and looked down, only to see him passed out in the water. "Huh?! Sorry! The camera between us must've hurt!"

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

The fresh smell of ramen woke him up. His eyes opened slowly. And the first thing he saw was the night sky. The moon that was, for once not covered by the clouds, shining calmly down on the beach. "Finally awake, huh? You suicidal maniac." the voice of someone familiar hit his ears as he eventually sat up, his hand was making contact with the sand underneath him.

"You." the person he meant didn't answer. "Why did you stop me?"

Well, yeah. You'd actually turn the question around. Who wouldn't stop someone from unaliving themselves? But you didn't answer, staring at him as if he grew a second head. "Here. Probably didn't eat, right? Your stomach was growling all the time while you were sleeping. And then I got hungry too so I ate before you woke up." you handed him the ramen you bought.

"Answer already." he demanded, not moving to accept the free food.

"If you don't take it, I'll eat it." you huffed and waited again. This time, he actually grabbed the noodles without averting his gaze from you. Wow, you thought he would be more stubborn. "It's getting cold."

"It's already cold."

"Hey, eat it now before I take it back for real now."

Persuaded by your words, his finger twitched, finally opening the already opened cup noodles as he looked down at them. There was no soup visible, already soaked up by the noodles. "Youch. Why dish youh save meh?" he asked once again, this time his words sounded pretty much incoherent. But you still understood most of it.

"Don't talk while eating. It just shows that you have bad manners." you sighed out before introducing yourself, "the name's [name] [lastname] by the way. If you're talking to me then use my name."

"[name]." he stopped eating the noodles for a moment just to hear your name out of his mouth.

"Yes?"

"...why did you save me?" he began to continue with the slurping.

"I mean, isn't it understandable? If someone tries to unalive themselves, you would stop them, wouldn't you?" you raised an eyebrow. "It's common sense."

"I'm a murderer."

Suddenly, the cold wind blew stronger this time, his hair flowed with the air, letting him still look beautiful. You wonder if he is a model. He could if he wanted. "Oh right. What did you say?" you asked him to repeat his words, not even listening. And when you processed what he said, you froze. "Ah, you're a murderer? Nice joke." his expression told you otherwise. "...well. A life is a life."

The guy infront of you frowned and you ask yourself why. What do you mean your answer didn't explain your actions? "I killed someone." the noodles are long forgotten, hiding behind all the thoughts he had. Because of you. What kind of reaction was that? He just told you he killed someone. So why did you shrug your shoulders as if it didn't really matter. "I took someone's life."

"And your face says you regretted it. You also tried to take your own life? You think it makes it better if you just disappear from the world? Isn't there someone who is worries about you?" you knitted your eyebrows in confusion, slight anger.

"It's better for them if I just disappeared. After all, I took the life of their friend. A sister." his eyes sank to the sand. "I'm an ugly monster."

"..." you couldn't help but chuckle at his last sentence. "Hey, if you're ugly what am I?"

"Stop laughing. I'm being serious."

"I am serious. If you're ugly, I must be super duper ugly." you huffed, "what's your name?"

"...Seongji." he answered after a while of silence. "Seongji Yuk."

"Again, if you call yourself ugly, I must be a goblin."

"I never said that."

"Yeah sure, you're thinking that."

"I was not."

"But now you're imagining me as a goblin, right?"

"No."

"Eat your noodles or I will."

"Youch are sho wheird."

"Bad manners. Oh by the way you owe me ramen AND a new camera."

"..."

Seongji stared at you. You stared at Seongji. Until he break the eye contact because of the noodles, but you know it was an excuse to avoid your staring. What did you say? He owes you ramen and a new camera? Where should he get the money from? Are you being serious right now? The next time he met your gaze again, he noticed your blank expression plastered on your face.

"Let's make a deal..." you paused, "you'll be my muse and you don't need to pay me back."

"No."

"What?! You owe me a camera though? You know how expensive it was?" you pointed at your broken thing.

"It's not my fault. You latched yourself onto me. Besides that, I have no money and no home."

"Because I was saving your life!" you balled your hands into fists, ready to punch his handsome face before calming yourself down. "How about I give you a shelter, food and some clothes then? You can have the guest bed room."

"Why are you doing this all for me?"

"Dude, you have no home, no money and you tried to unalive yourself. Now I'm giving you the best offer that will ever happen." you bit your inner cheek, "are we having a deal or not?"

"...fine." he placed the cup down.

"Good. You're having a new start. You sure about this?" you looked at him.

"...yes."

"..."

"By the way what's a muse?"

"Did you live in the mountains?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

a/n's note — tempted to make more parts to be honest. SEONGJI MY LOVE, YOU DESERVED THE WORLD AND EVEN MORE.

#❨🎐❩ 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀 :: shitpost.#seongji yuk x reader #seongji yuk #lookism #lookism x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 hours ago

Text

sold out, one night only

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event for Black Friday using 'one day night only'

rated m | 2980 words | cw: implied and referenced sexual content | tags: modern era, pop star steve, rock star eddie, semi-famous corroded coffin, exes to lovers, getting back together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The poster is huge, takes up most of the board in the club announcing new events. It’s surprisingly simple for something so large.

‘One Night Only’ accompanied by a picture of Steve Harrington, recently out queer pop icon, and a date and time.

Tonight is the one night only.

Eddie stares at it, kind of wishes he didn’t feel like sobbing, and then books it out of the club.

If he’s gonna make it across town before Steve’s show is done, he’s gotta hope for the least amount of traffic he’s ever seen and a lot of luck. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, the show was delayed enough that he’s still on stage singing.

He manages to find an Uber only a block away, offers them a 50% tip if they can get him to the arena in less than five minutes, and leans his head back against the seat.

~~~~

Four years ago, when Steve followed Eddie and his band to Chicago, neither of them expected much to happen. Corroded Coffin was small town good, but they quickly found that they weren’t quite what record labels were looking for.

A small indie label from San Francisco was interested, though.

So they packed up and moved to California, and to celebrate the first recording session, they went to a karaoke bar and all took turns singing songs that you’d never expect them to.

Steve took a turn singing a Harry Styles song and it was game over.

The whole bar went silent until he was done, and then it was pandemonium as people rushed him as he got off the stage, telling him he should be famous, and that he had the voice of an angel, and that he should try to sign a record deal.

And Eddie knew he could sing; he’d heard him in the shower and the car plenty.

There was just something about seeing him on stage and knowing that Steve was meant for more that really cut into his heart and made him bleed out on that bar floor.

It was the beginning of the end for them that night.

Eddie pushed him away. Steve stopped fighting it.

Steve signed with a huge company out of New York and moved before Eddie even realized he ruined everything.

He hasn’t spoken to him since, not even the one time Dustin had to have surgery and requested everyone be back in Hawkins in case something went wrong. He was being dramatic about leg splints, but they did it anyway.

Eddie caught one glimpse of Steve walking out of the Henderson home the night that Dustin got to leave the hospital, but he didn’t stop him.

Corroded Coffin is big enough to do festival circuits, even playing on the main stage for some of them.

Steve Harrington is big enough to go to Grammy parties and duet with Sabrina Carpenter.

And Eddie is stupid enough to think he can get backstage to apologize to him for being dumb enough to let him walk away.

~~~~

When he arrives at the arena, he’s told he needs a ticket to enter. This is a fact he knew before getting here, but one he chose to ignore in hopes that he might be able to bribe someone with his romantic story.

Unfortunately, the middle aged man who reminds him a lot of Wayne couldn’t care less about his need to tell Steve he loves him.

“You and the 20,000 others in the audience, bud,” the man says. “No ticket, no entrance.”

“Okay, I know you probably hear this often, but I swear he knows me. He’d let me in,” Eddie explains, but the guy is somehow even less impressed. “Oh! Wait. I have proof.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and opens his photos. The album named ‘Stevie ♥️’ is still in his favorites, even though Robin made him promise he’d delete it after the last time she visited. He may have promised he would, but he never said when.

It’s hundreds of photos of them together, mostly selfies, personal pictures they took on dates or in bed or on their road trip or-

“I told you to delete those.”

Eddie spins around at Robin’s voice. She’s standing near the set of doors at the end of the long line of doors, two security guards flanking her.

“And I will. Eventually.” Eddie walks towards her, ignoring the man telling him he needs to leave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks even though she has to know.

She’s his friend even though she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate. She isn’t being mean on purpose. She’s just being protective of both of them.

“Robin…” he starts.

She holds up a hand. “If I take you backstage, will this be a one night only thing or a start to forever thing? Because honestly, I don’t think he can take seeing you if it’s only for you to leave right after. He’s barely-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening.

“He’s what?” Eddie pushes, needing to know what she was gonna say.

She sighs. He knew he’d get her to give in easily.

“He’s barely holding it together as it is,” she admits. “I had to bribe him to get on stage tonight.”

“Bribe him? For this show?”

“And the last dozen or so. He’s tired. He-” She sighs again, heavier. “He misses you.”

“If he misses me, then he should call. Or text. Send a carrier pigeon.” Eddie doesn’t mean for the words to bite, but he can’t help the way he feels and he knows he’s safe with Robin. She won’t take it personally or let him stew in it for too long. “It’s not like he doesn’t have access to me if he really wants it.”

“Eddie. You made it very clear you didn’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I made it very clear that I loved him too much to hold him back. He was the one who pushed it to this,” Eddie tries.

He doesn’t succeed. Robin is shaking her head, laughing with disbelief.

“You two are made for each other. I’ll bring you backstage, but if I see a single tear shed in anything other than happiness, I’m calling Jeff and telling on you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. Calling Jeff isn’t quite the threat it used to be, not since Jeff got himself a very serious girlfriend who keeps him busy. Even if it was, Robin knows Jeff’s just gonna nod along, give Eddie a sad look, and move on.

He follows Robin through the door she came through, waving at the guard who was giving him a hard time– “he’s just doing his job, Eddie” – and feels his throat catch on his next breath when he can hear the beat of the music.

Steve’s pop rock sound isn’t necessarily Eddie’s favorite type of music, but he did stay up until midnight for the release of his debut album. It’s Steve. What’s he gonna do? Not listen to it?

His voice is just this side of raspy, like there’s a scratch of his throat when he hits the lower register his voice will allow. He almost sounds like when Eddie would-

“Alright. He’s got two songs left and an encore. Encore is usually just one song, but this is a special night so he may do a bonus from his new album. Don’t touch anything,” Robin sends him into the green room, waving off the security person who is standing at the door. “Don’t make me regret letting you in here. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jesus, Robbie, I’m not a child. I’m not gonna hurt myself-”

“I didn’t mean physically.” She gives him a sad look. “I care about you, too.”

Eddie’s shoulders fall as he breathes out. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. Robin hugs him and moves to the door.

“I’ll make sure you guys have some privacy for a bit, but we do have a tight schedule. Security’s only here while the crew packs up,” she explains. Eddie nods. He knows the drill. He may not be an international pop star, but he deals with the ins and outs of venues often enough.

Robin leaves and the only sound is the bass thumping of Steve’s last song. Eddie looks around at how bare the room is. Usually, Corroded Coffin has to share a green room with a few other bands unless they pull off headlining the main stage. Those rooms are usually cluttered, crews and musicians constantly coming and going, leaving trash and guitar picks behind. The only thing in this room that would hint at Steve using it is a bag of half-eaten white cheddar popcorn on the table next to an empty water bottle and a mug of what looks like green tea.

Steve’s a big enough star to make absurd requests for backstage, but it’s clear he doesn’t. Eddie isn’t surprised. Steve’s never really been one to ask for things that would benefit him.

He hears the screaming, knows Steve’s just left the stage. He’s probably standing nearby, hiding behind curtains or stacks of speakers, maybe even in plain sight.

“Wait!” Robin’s voice is right outside the door.

The door opens.

Steve’s there, breathless, sweaty, hot as hell.

“Steve, you still have a song,” another woman in khakis and a polo shirt is rushing up to him, waving a clipboard in his face.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks. Eddie can tell it’s more from emotion than the nearly two hour set list he just performed.

“Steve.” Eddie is waiting for Steve to move, for anyone to move. He can’t.

“Steve, you need to go back onstage.”

Eddie has his arms full of Steve before anyone can respond to the woman just trying to do her job. She looks like she’s a tech manager, but usually they wear all black, and Eddie doesn’t know all there is to know about an international superstar performing a concert even though he does know all there is to know about Steve.

He knows that he prefers earl gray tea with real sugar, not the green tea with honey that’s sitting on the coffee table. He knows that his favorite treats are the mini Kit Kats– “not the regular ones, they taste different, I swear!”-- not popcorn that gets stuck in his teeth for hours. He knows that he likes making places feel like home no matter how temporary he’s there, and there’s not a single item in this room that makes it feel lived in.

The woman seems to give up on getting Steve back on stage, and he’s pretty sure he has Robin to thank for it.

He has Steve in his arms for the first time in way too long. He isn’t wasting a second of it thinking about anyone else.

Steve’s sweat is soaking through Eddie’s shirt already, but he doesn’t really care. He used to love having Steve’s sweat on him; It meant he was doing something right.

He knows a reunion isn’t this easy, and any second now, Steve’s gonna pull away and yell at him, and they’ll fight and Eddie will let it happen because he deserves it and-

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve sobs against his neck, breath tickling his skin as his lips brush against him in an almost-kiss.

Suddenly, Eddie knows that Steve planned this. This whole sold out, one night only show was only so Eddie would come see him.

Eddie should be pissed.

Steve could have just fucking called him. Texted him. Sent a carrier pigeon!

But he’s got Steve in his arms and it’s always been pretty hard to be pissed at him when he’s pressed perfectly against his chest.

Robin is clearing the room and cursing Steve for making her clean up his messes, but Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice. She wouldn’t bother giving them time alone together if she didn’t want them to have it.

“Robin said I shouldn’t do it. She said you wouldn’t show.” Tears are falling from Steve’s eyes on Eddie's shirt. “I swore you would. She thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” Eddie laughs, squeezing his arms to pull him in tighter. “Planning something this big in the hopes that I’d come to a pop concert is fucking insane, Stevie.”

“But you did.” Steve leans back and looks at him, watery smile enough to make Eddie feel like he could melt into the floor. “I knew you would.”

Eddie wants to kiss him, wants to ignore everything that went wrong and everything they need to talk about, wants to take Steve apart in this room and make it feel like home because Steve didn’t do that on his own. He doesn’t think he’s made any place feel like home in a long time.

“You put a lot of faith in a guy who let you go,” Eddie whispers.

“You showed up for a guy who left,” Steve says back.

“You only left because I pushed you away,” Eddie argues.

“You only pushed me away because you thought it was best for me,” Steve raises a brow, challenging him to keep going.

Eddie knows Steve has a response for everything, though. He’ll keep putting blame on himself the same way Eddie keeps putting it on himself, and they’ll go round and round and waste precious time that they could be doing other things. Instead of pushing, Eddie sighs and lets his shoulders drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead of arguing.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve relaxes in his arms.

“We still have to talk, Stevie,” Eddie reminds him as he leans in, feels Steve’s breath against his lips.

“We will,” Steve barely gets out before their lips crash together, bruising and needy.

There’s a lot that Eddie missed about Steve. He’s spent countless hours harping over everything he messed up to himself, to Robin, to Wayne, to the band. Steve was forever going to be the one that got away.

“Can we…” Steve gasps against his mouth, hands grasping at every inch of Eddie that they can.

“What do you need?” Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrists to still him, to make him focus on what he wants.

“Just need you.”

It’s a cop out and they both know it, but Eddie’s fine with it tonight. If he has to be the one to take charge and assume what Steve wants, then he will. For tonight, he can give Steve what he wants to, and Steve will take it.

It’s a little anticlimactic when they come barely five minutes later. They don’t even get a chance to properly remove any clothing before they’re making a mess between them, moaning as if they can’t be heard.

As they come down, and Eddie manages to find a rag that may or may not have been used for other things already, Eddie sees Steve wipe his eyes.

He stops what he’s doing and drops the rag on the floor, pulling Steve close again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks because he can’t let Steve leave him again. Not this time.

“I just don’t want this to be one night only,” Steve cries.

“It won’t be, sweetheart,” Eddie assures him, brushing the fresh tears away as they fall. “We’re gonna figure out how to make it work. The band doesn’t have anything for the next few weeks, so we’ve got time, okay?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow. I have a GQ interview in London,” Steve pouts.

Eddie tries not to be distracted by his bitten-red lips, but they’re just so…biteable.

“I could go to London,” Eddie offers, only slightly joking.

Steve’s eyes light up. “You can?”

“I mean, I can definitely blow some of my savings to follow you around for a bit,” Eddie shrugs.

“As if I’d let you pay.” Steve’s beaming at him. “You really wanna come with me? Even though people will start spreading rumors and it’ll ruin your metal band image?”

“Baby, I’ll stand on that stage right now and scream to everyone who will listen that I’m yours.”

There’s still time to do that, too. Even though it can’t have been more than 20 minutes since Steve left the stage, he has no doubt that there are plenty of stragglers in the arena hoping for Steve to still come out and perform his encore.

“Some fans are kind of-”

“Crazy?” Steve nods. “That’s because you’re perfect. But they can’t have you, right? Not like I can.”

“No. Nobody gets to have me like you do.”

If Robin wasn’t banging on the door to warn them they only had five minutes, Eddie would be trying for another round. Maybe this time, he’d get his mouth on Steve instead of just his hand.

“I guess we should get to the car before fans figure out I’m still here,” Steve suggests. “And before Robin kills us both.”

“Imagine that news story,” Eddie laughs. “Best friend and manager of pop icon Steve Harrington charged with double homicide after seeing more dicks than she’s ever seen in her life.”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn’t seen mine,” Steve laughs as he pulls away. When he sees Eddie’s shocked face, he pats his cheek. “I sleep naked, babe. You knew that.”

Eddie’s face goes back to normal quickly. “Still? I thought that was just so I would-”

“I’m coming in!” Robin shouts as she opens the door. Steve turns away to finish buttoning his pants, but Eddie’s soft dick is right out in the open.

“Seriously?” Robin groans.

Eddie finishes making himself presentable and smirks. “You’ve seen what he’s got. You can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Car’s already surrounded, so. Hope you’re good with a hard launch.”

Eddie looks at Steve to check in. Steve gives him a nod.

“Blast off, I guess.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #corroded coffin fest #pop star steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #exes to lovers #getting back together

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callsign-rogueone · 3 days ago

Text

an unexpected visitor

cadet!Brennan Sorrengail x cadet!reader words: 1.6k 🏷: sfw (taking a break from the overdue kinktober stuff!), canon-typical injury, why do rider cadets always try to kill each other at 3am, you get stabbed, sorry, but Bren mends you up, no pronouns used for reader but you wear feminine pj's and smell like flowers <3, bren just met you but he's already down bad, naolin cameo, marbh is sassy, i just love writing lil cadet bren.

“Find Brennan Sorrengail.”

It takes you a second to place the name -- the boy in your year with the mending signet. The general’s son. He’s not in your squad, or even in your wing, so he has every right to put you out of your misery — but something is screaming at you that you can trust him, that he’ll help you. He wouldn’t have become a mender if he didn’t have a good heart, right? Surely he wouldn’t leave you to die, or finish you off himself to thin the herd.

You’ll die without his help anyway, so it’s worth a shot.

“You are not dying today. I will not allow it.”

“How exactly are you going to—”

The door swings open, and you thank the gods that you remembered which room was his.

He’s visibly confused, probably because he doesn’t even know your name, and you’re knocking on his door at three in the morning in negligeé. He blinks at you once, twice, about to ask why you’re here — and then he spots the knife currently sticking out of your ribcage.

“Please,” you rasp, clinging to the doorway with a bloodied hand. “Wasn’t gonna make it to the healers…”

He doesn’t hesitate, tossing his own blade aside, yanking a towel down from the hook by the door and throwing it over the bedspread, guiding you to lay down with a gentle hand on your elbow.

You cry softly as the movement shifts the knife, and he murmurs an apology as you lay back, helping lower you down. Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment you’re entranced by the flickers of emotion in them, the minute movements of his pupils as he takes you in… you've never seen anyone with irises that color, such a warm, rich amber.

He pulls away first, focusing back on the issue at hand. “Can I tear this? I’ll fix it later.”

It takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking about your shirt. “Sure,” you wheeze.

He hooks his fingers into the split from the knife and pulls, the fabric ripping easily. He’s quick to drape another towel over your chest, letting you keep some decency.

You really should have chosen better clothing — you’re a little embarrassed to be laying on his bed in a now-shredded pink satin teddy and a tiny pair of shorts, but in your defense, when you got out of bed to relieve yourself, you didn’t think you’d be getting into a knife fight, and then knocking on a near-stranger’s door to ask him to save your life.

He doesn’t seem to care at all, more worried about the wound than anything else. He’s not telling you anything, but the crease between his eyebrows and the tone of his voice as he mutters a few colorful words gives it all away.

“Is it bad?” you rasp.

“The blood is bubbling. That means the knife went through your lung.”

“Oh,” you say hollowly. Talking is agonizing, but you feel the need to fill the silence, to make this interaction any less awkward. “This is my first time being stabbed, so…”

He huffs out a laugh. “You’re doing great. It’s serrated, so it’s going to do more damage coming out than it did going in, but I should be able to fix it. It might scar, though. I’m not that good yet.”

“I’ll take those odds.”

“I need two hands for this, so I can’t block the pain.”

“Just do it,” you beg, tears already flowing down your cheeks. “Please.”

He settles a warm hand on your side, wrapping the other around the hilt. “Ready?”

“Yes, please just get it over with—” you try to muffle your scream with your hand, but it still slips out into the air as he starts to ease the knife back out, the jagged edges ripping your skin further.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he soothes, his thumb stroking over your rib as he continues to pull slowly, slowly… then there’s a clatter of metal hitting the floor. “It’s out.”

You almost regret asking him to remove it. The cold air of the room hitting the inside of the wound feels like your skin has been lit on fire, and somehow breathing is even more difficult than it was before; the blade was plugging the hole in your lung, and now it feels like you’d just accidentally inhaled half a glass of water. You bring an elbow up to cough into, your eyes widening as you realize that the metallic taste in your mouth is blood — and the warmth pouring down your side, too.

“Fuck, okay… I’m gonna try to fix it now. Just hold on for me. Try to relax.”

You sob in relief as the pain dulls, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on anything other than the burning feeling in your lungs, and not being able to breathe.

Layer by layer, the wound joins itself back together, leaving only a pink scar behind. Your breaths even out, your eyes fluttering shut and your posture relaxing. “That’s it,” he soothes. “I’m almost done.”

You don’t respond, and he realizes you’re unconscious. Not an abnormal reaction to having such a serious wound, but a slightly inconvenient one: he can’t ask you what happened, or if you have any other serious injuries.

The fabric slowly stitches itself back together, the bloodied patches disappearing along with the dried blood coating your skin. The stained towel and the red under his fingernails are the only evidence that anything had happened. That, and the bruise on your arm — though that looks to be a few days old.

Whoever attacked you must have snuck up on you, thinking one quick stab would finish the job. If they were coward enough to take such a cheap shot at someone in the middle of the night, they’re probably dumb enough to think that would kill you. He wonders if they met their demise, and they’re currently laying dead in the hallway, or if they made an escape. You probably didn’t let them get away with this. You don’t seem like the type to run away from a fight, especially when the other person struck first, and when you’d shown up at his door it didn’t look like you were being chased, either.

He fades away the bruise and a papercut on your finger, admiring the softness of your skin against his. You’re warm, which is a good sign that you didn't lose too much blood.

You look quite comfortable laid out on the side of his bed, your head resting on your arm and your legs tucked up toward your chest. You probably aren’t going to wake up any time soon. It’s nearly four in the morning, anyway, and you need as much sleep as you can get after tonight’s events.

He carefully climbs in on the other side, giving you plenty of room, and pulls the blankets over the pair of you. You stir, burrowing down into the warmth with a soft, content sound.

He watches you for a moment, comforted by the steadiness of your breathing. Might as well get some sleep, he decides — formation is in less than three hours.

———————————————————-

Thankfully you’re an early riser. The only thing that could make this any more awkward would be if he had to wake you up.

You yawn and stretch, cracking an eye open to see that his face is only a foot away from yours. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, a light blush covering his cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I don’t have a knife sticking out of me anymore, so pretty good.”

He exhales in relief. “I was worried that you wouldn’t remember, and then this would be super awkward.”

You laugh, sitting up. “Thank you for saving my life and letting me crash — and I’m sorry. It was pretty dumb of me to walk down the hall without a knife or anything. I thought we were safe now that we’re bonded, but I guess not.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs.” He pauses. “Did you…”

“No,” you answer. “I didn’t kill him. Just knocked him out.”

Him? Brennan’s jaw clenches. “Was it that prick from third wing?”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess. He seems like the type to go after someone unarmed and unaware. Especially someone half his size.”

You snort. “Seeing the look on his face at formation is going to be so fun.”

He blinks at you, questioning how calm you’re being about this. You take advantage of his stunned silence, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I owe you one. Two, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he manages.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, making a graceful drop to the floor and bending down to pick up your slippers -- he’d straightened them up for you. How sweet. You spot the knife on his desk, nodding toward it. “Do you want this, or can I keep it as a souvenir?”

“You can keep it. You earned it, after all.”

“Good point. Thanks.”

He keeps his eyes on the wall as you slip out the door, trying to look at anything except the amount of skin that shows in that little pajama set you’re wearing.

As the door closes behind you, he can hear you greeting someone -- not embarrassed at all to be walking down the hall in your pajamas, your slippers in one hand and the dagger in the other.

He flops back down onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling and replaying the interaction in his head, analyzing every word for any hint of deeper meaning.

“Good morning.”

He jolts upright, snapped out of his thoughts. “Gods above, Marbh,” he pants, recovering from the shock.

“You’re going to be late.”

Is it possible for a dragon to sound smug?

There’s a knock at the door before it opens -- Naolin. “Why aren’t you dressed?” He sniffs once, twice, his eyebrows creasing in confusion. “And why does it smell like rose petals in here?”

#fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #brennan sorrengail #brennan sorrengail x reader #mine #cadet!brennan

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nanaooyoo · 2 days ago

Text

nct jisung oneshot

request for anon: you have a kid without your highschool boyfriend ever finding out. sorry this request took a long while my life has been so insane lately that I haven’t had time to do much of anything besides work. Anyways enjoy ✨

warnings/headsup: light swearing • teen pregnancy • tiny bit of angst • major fluff fest • 7.8k words • female reader • light proofread • jisung x reader kiss • melodrama • crisp autumn vibes • dad!jisung • D/N = daughters name • miscommunication • so much cheesiness

Moving On: Jisung x Reader pt. I/I

High school was a complicated time for Jisung. He was managing school, keeping up with friends, dealing with his overbearing family, and a slew of extracurriculars, all while making sure to pay attention to you; his girlfriend. Sometimes it all felt like too much, sometimes he felt like he should just quit. Nevertheless, you were always there to support him. You were constantly by his side and that’s what really mattered. Whether it was bringing him snacks in between classes, helping him study during free periods, waiting for him at the dance studio while he practiced, or just being a shoulder to lean on and a safe space to vent whenever he may have needed it you were there... Jisung couldn’t even express how grateful he was for having you around! Even with all his appreciation and love for you however, he still wasn’t aware of just how far you were expending yourself to keep him happy and healthy.

People often joked about just how close you two were, how you were like second mother to Jisung and his entire friend group, the way you were always ready and able to give them rides and take care of Jisung and all the people important to him. Jisung’s mother would have probably said the opposite. Though she was never overt about it you know she didn’t like you. She would scowl whenever Jisung left you two alone together and the smile she forced on her face whenever he brought you home was just about the fakest thing you’d ever seen. Jisung always tried his best to talk you up to his parents, but where his mother was stubborn and resentful, his father was uninterested and indifferent. He didn’t want to believe that the people that had raised him couldn’t see in you what he saw, it pained him to think about so he just didn’t. He was in complete denial most times about the relationship between your two families and the fact that you came from much lower economic means didn’t help your case. When he first pitched the idea of you being his girlfriend to his mom and dad that was the very first thing they pointed out in fact! That didn’t stop him however. He would just tell himself that they were overly protective and that you and his mom were actually quite similar. You two would have to get along at some point… at least he hoped you would…

Jisung almost never failed to point out your motherly instincts: to protect him from bad news, to make sure he excelled in everything he did, to simply keep his head afloat. Unfortunately, no one knew just how that instinct would eventually have to develop. For better or for worse that instinct might have just been the end of the life you were once so used to.

It was late spring when you started noticing a bizarre sense of dread in the air as the reality started to set in for everybody that lives were starting to shift and change, and relationships were experiencing a much different sort of ebb and flow. No wonder you felt a little sick, it was the dread in the air! Right?

Sometimes your period was late… but it was never this late... You had no idea what you were supposed to do in a moment like this! A wave of anxiety washed over you and your body as you began to feel queasy. You felt nauseous, and even a fair amount afraid. This might have been the absolute worst time in your life for something like this to happen! You were so close to wrapping up high school. Senior year was supposed to be the last year of you and your peers lives before becoming "real" adults. You were deciding which university to go to and what subjects to major in. You were getting ready to say goodbye to friends and unfortunately hadn’t yet had the sit down talk with your boyfriend about if he was comfortable going long distance or even staying together at all…

You loved Jisung, you really did, but you also loved the idea of a bit of freedom. You would never explicitly say that to him for fear of hurting him or just sounding like you wanted to complain, but you were tired. Tired of being so busy, tired of so many people depending on you, tired of always being referred to as Park Jisung’s girlfriend, tired of his family looking down on you and yours. You honestly thought that most people had forgotten your name at this point. You wanted something of your own, something to explore outside of and away from Jisung, however sweet he was. You thought that college might be time for a change! A chance to reinvent yourself apart from your high school boyfriend and the hovering hand of his mother. No matter how lovely and accomplished he was, you two couldn’t be together forever right? At least that’s what you told yourself. You thought of your parents, you thought of Jisung’s parents. You were sure that if the Park family didn’t already detest you they surely would now. You dreaded what two little lines on a flimsy piece of plastic might mean for all of that. His parents already thought of you as unsophisticated, a burden to Jisung’s future and this would not help your case. You knew you had to tell Jisung while he was still around but you just didn’t know how… but first you had to be sure what you were planning on telling him.

You sat on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat all alone but face still flushed with warmth from embarrassment. You got up and washed your hands and gave yourself a once over in the mirror. You barely recognized your own visage. The bags under your eyes had bags, and the dark circles looked more like new permanent attachments than temporary indications of sleepiness. You subconsciously prayed to whatever god was out there that your period was just late again this time. “It’s just two or three weeks” you told yourself looking back to your reflection in your bathroom mirror and plastering on your best cheery smile. It only lasted a moment but for a fragment of a fragment of a second you were almost smiling genuinely no matter the result.

You went and did a quick lap around your house to release as much pent up stressful energy as possible but also to make sure your parents really were out of the house. You peeked out through the living room curtains one last time just making sure that there were no cars other than your own parked in the driveway. You ran back up the stairs as soon as you heard the faint ringing of the alarm you had set on your phone. You couldn’t stop the trembling of your hands as you picked up the little pink and white pregnancy test you had set on the edge of the counter. You sucked in a deep breath, inhaling sharply through your nose as the sheer terror and excitement of what you were looking at created a blockade in your throat. You felt a tingling sensation all over, unable to properly breathe, only sucking in air for another few seconds before finally letting out your first breath in what felt like several minutes.

Although, it wasn’t just any regular breath, it was a laugh. Well less of a laugh and more or a low groan that slowly turned into a chortle. You practically keeled over as you fell to the ground on your hands and knees, stomach and back heaving as sloppy tears fell down on the sides of your face and almost splashed back into your eyes with the velocity at which they hit the tiled floor. You didn’t know what your reaction would be once you looked at the test but you definitely did not expect this! You were so afraid before, so worried, so adamant that you wanted, needed it to be negative! Now here you were staring at the two thin lines on the near microscopic test screen indicating a positive result and all you could think of was how you hope’d it’d be a girl.

𖦹

“So I have good news and I have bad news” you whispered to Jisung as you two sat in the back of the school library “do you want to hear the good news or the bad news first”?

“Uhm I don’t know… I guess the bad news” he said.

You screamed internally, wondering why he just had to choose the bad option first. Jisung rifled through several books struggling to pick one for a final paper, paying you little mind as he laced his fingers through yours absentmindedly and dragged you down each aisle of bookshelves behind him.

It had been about a day or two since you had taken the test and you had even talked it over with your parents. They were understandably uneasy at first when you said you planned on keeping the child but you assured them that you would absolutely keep working on your studies. You told them you would talk to Jisung yourself and figure out the rest from there, and all your parents could do was support you and whatever decisions you made, the best they possibly could. They could see the stress in your eyes as you mentioned next steps. Though your parents supported your relationship they weren’t too fond of Jisung’s family either. The pretentious nature and lack of grace when talking about their son’s girlfriend, your parent’s daughter, it made them upset to say the least. The thought of having to join your two families was the last thing they wanted to think about right now. You explained to them in detail exactly how you wanted to move forward with your life and what you planned on telling your boyfriend in the process. “Just let him down easy” your mother said, knowing how difficult of a conversation this would be, especially to have so young “don’t tell his mom… tell him.” Your mother’s voice was emotional and awkward and your dad gave you a half hearted smile and stiff hug. Their words rang in your head as you looked up at Jisung.

“Are you sure you want to hear the bad news first?” You asked, hoping that if you told him the good news was that you were pregnant, he would already be on board to end the relationship and you wouldn’t have to say what you had to say next and his mom would never have to be proven right about how messy she thought you were.

“No I want to hear the bad stuff first and just get it over with” he said reaching over you with ease to grab a book off the highest shelf. “Hey do you think this would work?” He clicked his tongue paging through whatever novel he had picked up this time.

You sighed… “okay but it’s really important so I need you to really listen!”

Jisung continued checking out books and only really half listening to you. “Of course” he said as he carried on skimming all the literature around him.

“Jisung I’m serious! I didn’t want to do this here but this is the first time we’ve been alone together all week!”

“Totally…” he responded

“Jisung look at me!”

“I am looking at you…” (he wasn’t). He kissed your hand tenderly, muttering the words on the page he was looking at to himself.

“Jisung!”

“What babe?”

His nonchalance angered you. Couldn’t he tell how upsetting this was for you? “Jisung I want to break up!” You swore you could hear a pin drop on the complete opposite side of the library. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest in the time it took for Jisung to fully absorb what you had said. Those few seconds felt like an eternity, but once they were over you already wanted to go back to before you had said anything.

“You’re joking…” he said, actively scoffing in your face.

What ensued was potentially the first and only ever argument between you and your then, now ex boyfriend. All you really remembered was how he kept asking "why". You told him all the little reasons, how you wanted space, how you couldn’t do long distance, how your families would never get along, but you omitted the most important reason... Sure those other things were true but you also just couldn’t see yourself raising a child with the first guy you had ever slept with, and Jisung had so much going for him, you knew there was no way a dance career could have him stationed in one place long enough to focus on a new family. His mother would never let him have a kid with you, you just knew it! She would think you were trapping him, his father would question you incessantly, and Jisung would eventually have to choose between his prospective future or yours. So you decided to choose for him.

“So we’re just over then” his voice was hoarse and defeated “you don’t want to see me again”…

All you could do was nod “this one should work well, it fits all the criteria for the paper”. You said, handing Jisung a hefty book of the shelf, helping him for seemingly the last time…

You couldn’t completely avoid Jisung the last few weeks of school. You both had sort of silently agreed to keep as much distance as possible, only speaking to each other when absolutely necessary. When people asked why you two had broken up you both had slightly different answers but they both went along the lines of “growing apart.” It really hurt to think about, especially all that was left unsaid but you simply had to trudge forward. The last time you saw Jisung was at graduation where you each exchanged a friendly yet faintly sour handshake and wished each other good luck. You watched the smug smile on his mother’s face as you two parted ways and the way she turned up her nose when your dad foolishly went in for a cordial handshake.

You sort of regretted not telling him about your ‘situation’ but you also felt like it was for the best! You thought you might never see him again and once your daughter D/N was born nothing else mattered. You put off school for a bit, moved to a new town and got very used to living alone with just you and your little girl. You put all your best skills to use once you had entered university. All your experience planning, keeping others organized, staying on task, and being a mother really lended itself to your field and your incredible business acumen was undeniable. You worked hard to make sure that you and your daughter could live in the best house, afford the nicest dinners, get the very best babysitters, and whatever else would make the little one’s life easier.

Obviously you still thought about him. Every time you looked at your child’s face you saw him. Every laugh, every cough and sneeze, every silly statement, every whine just reminded you of him. She never asked about her father but you wondered if she would eventually start. You sort of did want her to meet Jisung but your life had changed so much since, you wondered if after all these years if he would even care. You weren’t immune to looking him up every now and then or asking your parents if they had heard any news about him or his family. You suspected he would be angry or hurt if he found out, and he had every right to be. Despite that though, you still just wanted to see him again, even if it was just to yell at you for lying or cuss you out, even for just a brief moment you wanted to see him…

𖦹

“There’s no way… there’s no way…” Jisung muttered to himself slowly bringing his shopping cart to a halt and planting his feet firmly in the middle of the aisle. People gave him dirty looks and confused stares. He stood there, oblivious, only focused on a woman about his age, a woman he’d recognize anywhere even from a hundred feet away, a woman who nearly shattered his heart into a million pieces and broke up with him before moving across the country and becoming the most successful person from their high school by a mile. It couldn’t be, or rather it shouldn’t be!

What were you doing back in your home town? He wondered. The last he had heard you graduated college with about a million academic achievements under your belt, and were making more money than he could ever dream of at some big conglomerate. Though there you were, same put together appearance, same pretty face, same sweet voice, bending over to talk to a little girl who looked just like you. He did a double take, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses just to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was seeing. He squinted and blinked and did just about everything he could to clear his vision but nothing changed. All he saw was you.

He felt like he had to say something… if he didn’t he thought he might go insane. What kind of guy would he be to just ignore your presence. Sure you two hadn’t ended things on the best note but that was years ago, and you were just kids at the time! Maybe you’d forgiven him at this point. At one point Jisung wasn’t sure if all the resentment he once held for you was gone but seeing you in person just confirmed that it was. There was no reason to be mad anymore. He really missed you. He just wanted to talk to you again…

Was it really you standing there? The child didn’t look that old but was she really yours? Had you moved on so quickly after leaving town, after leaving him? Who were you with now? His head was spinning like a freshly oiled revolving door and full to the brim flooded with questions.

Jisung felt like his stomach did a 360 degree flip as he tepidly approached you. “Y/N” he stated more than asked hoping but already knowing it was you. Though, in case he was wrong he braced himself for a much more awkward encounter.

You almost dropped the can of food you were holding blinking rapidly and registering the person before you. “Jisung?” You said, giving him a once over. He was somehow even taller now with jet black hair and dark thick rimmed glasses slightly covering his tired brown eyes. He was as cute as ever. There he stood looking pretty much the same as he did when you left, but boy was he handsome!

“Jisung what’re you doing here?” You asked out of impulse, already knowing the answer. You acted like you hadn’t heard he was in town from your mother who ran into his folks a couple weeks ago, who proceeded to unabashedly brag about their son to her. Of course you then immediately went and stalked him on social media.

“I- I came back recently for a family reunion…” his face was a bit strained as he said it and then he trailed off, noticing the little girl who shyly held your hand once more. Up close she looked ever more like you, down to the way she looked him up and down and examined him with curious eyes. She stared without a shred of recognition on her face or in her eyes but still refused to break eye contact with the strange adult towering over her. He also couldn’t help but notice the way her cheeks rounded out the same way his did as a child and how her face transitioned into the same confused expression he made, mirroring him perfectly.

“What are you doing here?” He said trying his best to look at you and to not stare back at the little girl clinging to your side examining him like a foreign creature trapped behind bars at the zoo.

“I’m visiting my parents” you said clearing your throat a bit “with my daughter.” You raised her little hand trying to make her wave.

“How old is she?” He asked, mentally doing the math of just how long ago you two broke up.

“She’s five…” you said bashfully. You tried to run every possible scenario in your head about what the best course of action would be in this moment. Was it selfish to just keep the information to yourself, or was it better to just tell him now. Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to let Jisung know that you’ve sort of been hiding a secret daughter from him for the past five years, but also the longer you hid it from him the worse you felt. You had to tell him, it really felt like now or never. You had kept her from him for so long it just felt cruel at this point. Plus, even though your daughter was young the way she eyed Jisung up and down made you feel paranoid enough that she had already figured it out herself. Maybe Jisung already knew too, maybe he wanted nothing to do with you or more importantly with her, but you still had to tell him. The words had to come out of your own mouth whether you wanted to speak them or not! You had to make up for the immature decision you made at that time. It was like you were in that library all over again...

“Hey do you want to meet up- I mean we should probably talk, it’s been a long time”. You fumbled over your words not sure exactly what to say.

Jisung perked up “I’m free tomorrow. If you wanna grab coffee!” He was happy you took the initiative to invite him out because god knows he didn’t have the courage to do it himself.

“That sounds... nice!” you said as the little girl tugged on your arm mumbling something about wanting to watch some tv show at grandma and grandpa’s.

“I assume your number’s still the same.” He said remembering all the times he meant to text you but stopped himself out of fear.

“Yeah it is.” You said. You felt the same giddy feeling you got on the first day of high school when a cute boy in your homeroom asked for your number for “study purposes.” There was that cute boy once again standing in front of you giving you the same smile he gave you when you first met. A smile you hadn’t seen in years, but healed a hurt you didn’t know you had inside instantly.

You had to chew on your cheeks to hide your smile as you drove home. You could see your daughter in the rear view mirror drumming her little fingers on the arm rest of her car seat along to the music on the radio. You would peek at her every once in a while and try to gauge her focus. What was she thinking about? Was she afraid of him? Was she curious about him? Did she even care?

You cleared your throat only half getting her attention as she sang along to the words of whatever song was playing, mostly making up her own lyrics and swaying in her seat. “So what did you think of mommy’s friend?” You asked.

She didn’t respond for a bit or even give you any indication that she heard you. She was silent for a few minutes before speaking. “He’s nice… but… too tall…” she said.

“You might be tall like that one day” you chuckled “would you ever want to meet him again?” You wanted to at least have an idea of what to tell Jisung when you saw him next. In your mind, your daughter’s opinion (though still young and uninformed) mattered the most. If she wanted nothing to do with him at this time it didn’t matter what Jisung’s response was. All that mattered was her and what her needs were.

“Is he good at playing games?” She added out of the blue.

“What?”

“Mommy’s friend... Is he good at playing games?”

“Uhm, I guess so? From what I remember he was always fun. I’m sure he’d be good at playing games.” You smiled at her through the rear view mirror a little “Why D/N? Did you want to play a game with him?”

Your daughter just looked out the window and nodded her head, soon after getting distracted. “When are we getting home? I wanna watch my show.” She huffed and grumbled almost like an adult. Almost like Jisung.

“Soon.” You said.

As you pulled into the driveway and walked into your parent’s house, your daughter was practically vibrating with energy. She practically dove out of the car as you unbuckled her seatbelt, running into the home as your mother opened the door and greeted her with a big hug.

“How was the store?” Your mother asked as she ushered your little one down the hall to go bother your father in the living room.

“It was alright… I ran into Jisung…” you walked over to the kitchen and placed a few shopping bags on the counter.

Your mother looked surprised “both of you?”

You sighed “both of us.”

“What did he say?”

“He asked to grab coffee, he actually seemed happy to see me!”

“Were you happy to see him?” Your mother asked.

“Of course I was! It was awkward but I have to tell him sooner or later. Whether he wants to be in her life or not I have to tell him.”

“-and you think the best way to do that is over coffee?”

“No!” You said. “But I might not have another chance.”

Your mother looked at you with this awkward guilty expression on her face. She started to unpack the groceries biting her lip and looking everywhere but into your eyes.

“What? Do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?”… there was silence as she opened the fridge and began to rearrange some condiments, suspiciously shaking her head as if to neither completely agree or disagree. “You think I should keep it from him? Mom it's been long enough, it would just be wrong to not tell him. D/N wants to meet him! Why are you being so weird about this? Aren’t you the one who told me I should tell him the next time I see him?”

“What if he already knows?” Your mother blurted out.

“So what if he already knows…” you furrowed your eyebrows “wait… what do you mean?”

“Nothing” your mother said.

You knew that was bullshit. “Did you tell him?” You asked in a frustrated tone. “You told him didn’t you—”

Your mother looked at you and then went back to avoiding your fiery gaze. She was never good at keeping secrets but you thought something of this magnitude would be able to stay hidden. She promised to let you tell him on your own terms, so why had she betrayed you?

It took her a while to fess up but eventually she did, sort of… “I didn’t tell him directly, it just sort of slipped out… I— I just had to say something she was so… ugh!” Your mother groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked and took a deep breath. Your mother swallowed harshly and looked down at the floor. “I promise to hear you out, I just want to know what I’m getting into mom.”

“It was around last month… Your dad has been golfing so much lately, so he got us a membership to the country club with the money you gave him for his birthday. I don’t personally use it much but he loves it down there, and I like to use the pool, and the tennis court is nice, and every once in a while I like to just sit in one of the dining rooms with a glass of wine, and…”

You sucked in your cheek as your mom rambled knowing that she couldn’t avoid the point forever. “Yeah exactly.” You said dryly.

Your mother gulped once more “To make a long story just a bit shorter… The Park family also goes there and I ran into Jisung’s mother, and she was just bragging about him nonstop and she hinted that he was better off without you and I just remembered how much you loved that boy! She was talking about some date he went on and how great this girl was. Greater than my daughter? I doubt it! She thought her son could do no wrong! That he was so perfect and you were so not… I just couldn’t help but tell her that whether she liked it or not you two would always be connected! I- I looked at her and I said ‘ya know you may want to let your son know that you already have a granddaughter and she’s not related to that rich heiress you want him with so bad!’ That’s what I said to her for looking down on us all these years… I told her about how my daughter and my daughter’s daughter were just about the most wonderful thing in this world and she had no right to talk about you or even her own son that way.”

“You really said all that stuff?”

“Yes…” Your mother replied hesitantly.

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes and a swell of emotion inside you. You put a hand over your mouth to stop the audible sobbing that threatened to leave your mouth. You could tell just how long your mother had been holding in those words. She was always so non confrontational but the fact that she said all that warmed your heart. You were angry at first but in this moment you realized that it didn’t matter what Mrs. Park or even your ex boyfriend thought of you. You had some choice words for Jisung’s parents as well but you knew it would create more trouble to let them out. All that mattered was that your mother loved you guys enough to be proud of you. You always felt a bit embarrassed when having to explain to others that you weren’t the babysitter you were just a teen mom, but your own mother didn’t even care. She loved you all the same and made sure that no one would let you feel ashamed of yourself. “I should’ve known you couldn’t keep a secret anyways.” You said choking up a bit. You gave your mother the biggest hug you had probably ever given in your entire life, and she hugged you right back!

“You aren’t angry?” She asked.

“Oh I’m furious” you said “but not at you. I have no idea what I did to make that woman hate me so much but I’m glad you stood up to her!”

Your mother sighed. “I know you wanted to do it on your own terms but I feel like she might’ve already told him… I just don’t know for sure.”

“It’s alright.” You said. You and your mother finished unloading the groceries, tearfully laughing at how strange the whole encounter must have been. The thought of your soft-spoken mother raising her voice at a stern and snarky lady filled you with joy. Just imagining the shocked look on Jisung’s mom’s face was enough to keep a slight smile on yours for the rest of the day.

Later that night, after putting D/N to bed, you sat on the couch with your parents commiserating about all the awful experiences you had with the Park family over the years. It had been pent up for so long that all of you took the opportunity to air out even the smallest of grievances.

“I don’t know how such a sweet kid could be related to such obnoxious people” your father said as a small ping emanated from your phone.

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as you saw the first text from Jisung in half a decade appear before you.

“Wanna grab that coffee around noon tmrw?” It said.

You considered being coy and waiting a few more minutes to reply but your fingers worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it a “sure!” was sent in response.

Then there was one more ping. One more text. It was small. It was innocuous. It could have meant nothing. But to you, it meant everything. It was one small red heart, one little emoticon that hinted to you that he still might feel the same…

𖦹

The next morning was an early one for you. You spent hours perfecting the exact right image that would make you look good enough to go on what was essentially a date, but not so good that Jisung would immediately clock that you two were on a date. Sure meeting up with an old fling to talk about a secret child over coffee wasn’t the most romantic premise, but you couldn’t help but want to put your best foot forward when it came to him. It was almost shameful to admit internally how much you felt for him, but it was the honest truth. You still loved him.

The ding of the coffee shop door seemed to ring out like a chorus of hollow bell chimes in your ears as your head began spinning. Jisung was sitting at table to the far end of the cafe. You could see the rays of somber light peeking in through the window, diffused by the dusty oranges, reds, and browns of the fall leaves. Jisung fidgeted in his chair looking down at the table, and then his watch, then his phone, and back to the table. Two brown paper cups stood tall on the table in front of him, steam rising from them and collecting on the lenses of his glasses. He cracked his knuckles and gnawed at his fingernails nervously until finally catching a glimpse of you walking towards him. “Y/N” he exclaimed, clumsily getting to his feet and lightly tripping over a leg of his chair.

You tried your best to hold back laughter as he bumbled around, rushing to pull out a chair for you. You smiled and thanked him as you sat down. The rich pungent smell of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet steamed milk filled your nostrils and Jisung gently pushed one cup over to you.

“I assumed you still drank the same coffee. If that’s okay.” He cleared his throat hesitantly.

You could just about burst into tears at this very moment. After all these years he still remembered your coffee order. He was only missing one thing...

“Wait just a second…” he fumbled through his pockets for a moment and pulled out two small packets of sweetener. “I know you like to stir in your own sugar” he said.

Now it was perfect!

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

Jisung’s consideration for others, you in particular was always so evident. It’s like he couldn’t stop himself from making the kind of small talk that involved checking in on people. “I did.” You replied.

The two of you spent some time just sitting and catching up. You talked about school, work, old friends, tv shows, and just about everything you two would have talked about and experienced together had you been in contact for the past five and a half years. You didn’t really realize when, but the both of you had slowly transitioned to taking your coffee shop 'date' outside of the coffee shop and made your way to the park across the street. The air was cool and refreshing and Jisung couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud but the way you were bundled up with your scarf, gloved hands clutching your coffee like it might run away from you if you let it go was adorable. He also took not of how your coats subtly matched. Yours a light brown, and his a deep tan color made you two look complimentary, almost like a couple… almost.

“Did your daughter make it in time to watch her show?” He asked out of the blue.

You chuckled “You remembered that? She did actually. She even talked about you a bit after… before she went to bed she asked if I was meeting up with you soon.”

“No way!” He said and bumped your shoulder lightly with his coffee cup.

“Really I mean it! She’s so interested in what I do. She always asks about my friends.”

“Are we still friends?”

Your eyes went wide, your hands tensed up and a chill ran down your spine. “I mean- We were good friends at one point!” You choked on your words not knowing what to say.

“We were more than just good friends Y/N” he said.

“I know…”

Jisung bit his lip and you both looked at each other sheepishly, you caught his gaze and he caught yours before you both broke out into a fit of laughter. You two as a pair had a way of bringing out a silliness within yourselves that had you cackling like hyenas together but looking like absolute madmen to any onlookers passing by.

Your walk in the park was peaceful and comforting. So comforting in fact that you had almost forgotten why you wanted to meet up with him in the first place.

𖦹

“So what was the good news?” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

“What?”

“The good news! Remember before we broke up you said there was good news and bad news… the bad news was the break up and the good news was…” he giggled awkwardly “well I never got to find out”.

Why now of all times did he have to bring that up? What could you even say? You couldn’t run, you couldn’t hunker down somewhere and hide. You had to talk to him. It was now or never.

“Yeah about that… the good news was mostly good news for me”. You were internally facepalming at your high school self’s method of delivery when it came to something so important. ‘Good news and bad news’, how idiotic could you have been.

“That’s okay, I still want to know-” Jisung gently placed your hand in his, picking it up to wrap your fingers within his warm grasp. He knew it might be wrong but he really didn’t want to ask about your relationship status right now. “I was obsessed with everything you did back then, that part of me still really wants to know… Like would it have changed anything? I know that sounds stupid but it’s true…”

You couldn’t help but melt a little being in his hold once again. It lulled you in a way that made you forget the gravity of what you were about to abruptly spit out. “The good news was D/N”! You felt a lump form in your throat and you were jolted back a bit as Jisung stood there frozen in the midst of the cobblestone path. You immediately went into panic mode. Why wasn’t he saying anything? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time and my parents pretty much told me to do whatever I thought was best! I didn’t want to push something so big on you right before graduation” You rambled on and on watching as Jisung seemed to only take in bits and pieces of what you were saying. Still you weren’t sure if he was buying your excuses or if they were going in one ear and out the other. He continued to just stand there stiff as a board tightening his hand around yours as you tried to usher him to a bench to sit down. It took a few minutes, but eventually you two found a quieter more private area of the park to talk it out. Jisung mostly sat and listened to you explain your reasoning for keeping D/N a secret from him for so long but he also acknowledged how this wasn’t information he would have wanted to receive any other way than in person and face to face.

He had always wanted to hear something like this from you but he always imagined it was going to be far in the future after you guys got married. Jisung’s thumb lightly caressed your knuckles and you thought your fingers might go numb from the prolonged hand holding. He looked down at your hand and as quiet as a mouse he laughed.

He laughed… Right there on the bench as the cool breeze swept his hair out of his eyes, he laughed. He slowly met your worried gaze, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes just as they did in yours. “Of course you went on to have the perfect life and be the perfect mother all without me.”

His words caught you off guard “Perfect? I’m like a mess ninety percent of the time, I just keep it together in front of my daughter.” You sniffled a bit “I did- I mean I still do want you to be in her life, it would be good for her…”

“Just for her” he asked playfully, tears still welling in his eyes.

“...and for me…” you looked down at the ground.

“Would your boyfriend be okay with that?”

“Boyfriend?” You felt the embarrassment return to you. “I haven’t dated anyone since you and I-” you could barely finish your sentence before Jisung’s lips were crashing into yours. His hot breath made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. His eyelashes gingerly brushed against your cheeks as he caught his breath. Exhaling through his nose he went back for more. Maybe it was because it had been so long, maybe it was because he was older and more experienced, but Jisung had never kissed you like this before. There was quiet desperation in the way your lips melded together as if he was asking you, begging you to be his again.

“Me neither” he said breathlessly finally letting you come up for air.

“I thought you had a girlfriend?”

“No way, I haven’t gone on a real date since I started college…”

“But your mother said-“

“My mother has been trying to set me up with some girl whose parents own a couple buildings downtown for ages now.” Jisung cupped your cheek affectionately. “She seems nice and all but it’s hard to go out with anyone else when all I do is think about you!”

“I think about you too.” You treasured the way such simple touches and matter of fact words could flip your worlds upside down. “I wish I had told you sooner… I really wish I told you so much earlier…” You really couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now. You imagined just how crazy you looked crying on a public bench. “One second” you said reaching into your purse and pulling out a few tissues and some baby wipes. You lightly dabbed at the corners of Jisung’s eyes.

He reached over to you and used his thumbs to wipes your face simultaneously. “You’re such a mom.” He joked.

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me right now?” you said.

Maybe he should have been, you wouldn’t have held it against him if he was. “Being with you is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. If that makes me crazy then so what. I’m crazy about you.”

It was hard to hide the shock on your face, you couldn’t believe he had just outright confessed his feelings to you before you even had time to process that wonderfully unexpected kiss.

“Anyways, it’s a relief that D/N is mine. If you had a kid with some other guy I don’t know what I’d do…” he planted another small kiss on your forehead.

“I think your parents would have been elated…” you trailed off.

“Who cares what my parents think! We’re not in highschool anymore!”

You couldn’t help but smile.

“I always knew we were meant to be family, it doesn’t matter how long it took. Just never keep a secret like that from me again” he laughed.

“I promise it’s all honesty from now on” you replied as Jisung pulled you into a warm embrace. He brought your body closer to his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two took in the autumn scenery.

𖦹

It took a few weeks of coordinating but Jisung had finally come up to visit you in your home in the city. D/N was probably more excited than you. Your last couple days back at your parent's were spent watching Jisung play with your (now his) daughter in your parents living room. He seemed to have lived up to all her expectations and she had gotten over her qualms with his height one she realized how high up she could sit when on his shoulders.

You still hadn’t told her he was her father. You and Jisung agreed to wait to tell her until you two were more established. Sure you had dated before but this was now a whole new relationship. Your daughter practically leaped from her spot on the couch once she heard the doorbell ring and her dad’s signature tepid knock on the door.

You opened the door to see your boyfriend’s smiling face as he reached down to pick up D/N as she peppered him with questions. “Hey you!” He said nuzzling her nose and leaning over to give you a kiss as your daughter winced in disgust. He lugged in a large rolling suitcase with his one free hand as you ushered him through the front entrance.

“That’s all you brought?” You asked.

Jisung nodded “yeah for now… I was so eager to get over here that I only packed the essentials, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my stuff at once.”

“Please Jisung you’re getting ready to move in. You’re going to overwhelm me anyways” you teased.

“I’ll get the rest later! Right now I just want to hang out with you guys!” He put your daughter down and ruffled her hair. “So are you going to give me a tour?” He said leaning down to talk to her at eye level.

She just wordlessly dragged his wrist along to show him all her favorite spots in the house as you trailed along.

Much to the behest of his mother Jisung planned on having many more days like this and little did you know that the ring burning a hole in his coat pocket back in your hometown was the thing he was most excited to bring back in the next suitcase...

#nct dream angst #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct angst #nct au #nct dream au #park jisung #jisung park #jisung nct #jisung fluff #jisung angst #jisung oneshot #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshot

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suzukiblu · 2 days ago

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Thank-you sentences for Roosterwhale behind the cut; “we are so pleased with this match". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . what,” the scientist says, and Kara ignores him to revel in the perfect synchronicity that Kon and Match outright throw themselves at each other with. That's just very satisfying, as a beta. Especially as the beta who led this alpha to this omega.

As the beta who led her only sem-zahm packmate to the kyn-tul who’s been waiting so long for him to come and let him be a good bitch for him.

Kon and Match crash together and Match immediately tries to rip Kon’s throat out, which Kara considers very restrained of him under the circumstances, and Kon smashes him into the floor to keep from getting his throat ripped out, and Match hisses viciously and backhands him across the jaw. Kon snarls back down at him and Match claws at his face and Kon bares all his teeth, and Match’s breath–hitches, very noticeably.

And then he tries to bite Kon’s throat out, which is also very restrained of him under the circumstances, Kara thinks.

“About goddamn time,” the scientist mutters. “Subject Match will deal with this. You three, get the–”

“Uh, sir . . .” one of the guards interrupts him warily, the other guards looking somewhere between confused and alarmed. Kara assumes it has something to do with them actually being combat-trained and therefore capable of noticing things like, oh, body language and intent and specifically how Kon and Match are fighting each other, and the equally specific ways they very much aren’t fighting each other.

Like–very, very specifically, on both grounds.

“Don't interrupt me!” the scientist snaps at the guard, who grimaces. “Call the collections team and tell Lab 4 to prep for a new sample set. Vivisection or necropsy, whichever we get.”

Didn't even say “autopsy”, Kara reflects idly. Well, she already knew the asshole deserved this.

He deserves much worse than this, in fact, for keeping Match all locked up down here in a cell instead of letting him have what a kyn-tul on their cycle deserves.

And for keeping her packmate’s kyn-tul from him, he deserves even worse.

She is not in any way whatsoever going to even pity the Agenda, no.

Kon and Match are wrestling more than anything else right now–well, as much as “if Kon fucks up Match will murder him” can pass for “wrestling”, anyway–and Kara remains impressed with Match’s restraint. She cannot imagine what her father would’ve done if her mother had left him alone in . . . how many heats must Match’ve had by now, if he presented about when Kon did?

Kara does a few conversions to Earthling calendars and some quick math in her head.

. . . actually, she needs something stronger than “good bitch” to go with here, because any Kryptonian-raised omega would’ve gelded Kon for putting them through this.

The El packs owes Match such nice nesting materials. And his pick of places for nesting in, too, up to and including all their own personal homes and bedrooms and laps. And also literally every single thing he ever wants when he’s in heat or pre-heat for the entire rest of his natural-born life.

She should probably text Kal and her other self about collecting some of those things after they get out of here, she thinks. Once Match has gotten fucked into a more talkative mood, anyway, and can tell her what said things are.

Though the nesting materials she is definitely already making plans for.

Match slams Kon into the floor hard enough to crater it–hard enough to shake the room–and Kon struggles underneath him clumsily, clearly overwhelmed and trying to keep control of things he doesn't actually need to be in control of right now. Kara obviously understands why, given he's never done this before, but . . .

“K-Kara, I . . .” Kon pants from where he’s pinned and struggling underneath Match, his eyes flared wide and pupils almost as dilated as they can get. He keeps most of the alpha out of his voice, which is honestly fairly impressive too. “I feel . . . I wanna . . .”

“Don’t pay attention to her!” Match hisses down at him as he grabs his throat and starts to choke him, leaning all his weight and an obvious amount of muscle into it, and Kon grabs onto his wrists with a strangled wheeze. “I’m right here!”

“I told you, Kon, you have my permission,” Kara reminds him patiently. Again, she understands why he's trying to keep a rein on his alpha, because he's never gotten to not keep a rein on his alpha, but that's the literal opposite of what the current situation calls for. “Don't you know what your Match needs from you? Don't you know how bad your Match wants you to give him what he needs from you?”

Kon makes another strangled sound, and Match looks away from him just long enough to glare at her, baring his omega teeth in an alpha sneer–

Baring his neck, and leaving it unprotected.

He doesn’t know what he's doing, doing that.

But Kon's alpha does.

Kon’s eyes snap into full eclipses and he lunges up and throws his arms around Match as he buries his teeth in his exposed throat with a full-on alpha snarl, and Match–well, Match doesn’t have irises to eclipse, but his eyes still flare the exact same way Kon’s did even as his body reflexively stiffens–as whatever these stupid humans taught him makes his body reflexively stiffen–and then, as its actually honest reaction, just melts completely down into Kon’s teeth.

Because of course it does. Because Match is a good bitch who Kara can very clearly smell just slicked up enough to soak his hole over that bite, and is willing to let Kon prove that he’s a good alpha.

Kon drags Match down and rolls them over and slams the other to the floor flat on his back, and Match’s expression goes all dreamy and heat-drunk and he tries to smash Kon’s temple in with a fist. Kon digs his teeth in harder and catches Match’s wrists, and Match makes a breathy, omega-soft sound and then brings a knee up into his gut, and they both shove down and claw at and cling to each other.

Kara watches contentedly as Kon and Match thrash and struggle and crack the floor underneath themselves, all hisses and snarls and gasped-out little grunts and moans. They’re a little clumsy about it, but it’s their first time together, and she still can’t help finding it sort of adorable how their pheromones are all tangled up and smell like–well, a candy she’ll never taste again and a roaring fire, but also the quiet intimacy of a human bonfire off alone in the dark and the kind of sticky-soft-melty marshmallows that humans roast on them.

. . . or toast, maybe? Maybe it’s toast, she doesn’t really know. Mostly she just burned hers to charcoal, the times Kal got her to try it.

It’s a nice scent, though. Kara likes the thought of it all intermingled with and absorbed into their pack scent: the tangled mess of a compatible alpha and omega, all mixed up in each other ‘til even their own packmates won’t be able to tell the difference between their scents half the time. It might break her heart a little every now and then, but so does everything that’s ever mattered to her, from her parents to Krypton to Kal to their pack to finding out this was even a option.

For now, though, it’s just a submission bite and not actually a mating one–obviously, because Kon isn’t the kind of bastard who’d ever force something like that–so for now their scents are still separate enough to recognize as separate scents. Kon’s teeth are still in Match’s throat, and he and Match are still struggling on the floor, and all tangled up like this they smell warm and melty and burningly horny, which is both a good sign for their compatibility and also zero percent surprising at this point. Especially since their “struggling” is increasingly less and less about the “struggle” part and more and more about getting their hands all over each others’ bodies and dragging and grinding them both together.

And maybe about one other thing, Kara can’t help but think when she notices Kon fist a hand in the symbol on the chest of Match’s suit and shred it off him. She understands the temptation, with some other pack’s crest sitting there.

Also now Match is showing significantly more skin, which seems like a very Kon kind of solution to the problem but is also an undeniably effective one.

Kon pulls back just enough from Match’s throat to snarl down at him, his fistful of torn emblem held balled against the other’s chest, and Match stares up at him with eyes that can’t eclipse, that already look like moons anyway, and then–very obviously, and very deliberately–tips his head back against the floor and pushes his chest up against Kon’s clenched fist, fully displaying–and exposing–his throat and pectorals to him in the process.

Rao, that’s the kind of submission display most omegas wouldn’t even do in porn, Kara thinks, barely resisting the urge to cover the nearest guard’s eyes for propriety’s sake.

Well–Match doesn’t know any different, does he. He just knows what his omega is telling him it wants.

And Kon, presumably, knows what his alpha wants, but is just holding himself still and frozen above him; above that exposed offering of a posture from an omega who probably doesn’t even really understand why he’s doing it or what it really means; from a compatible omega who very obviously differentiated to be specifically compatible with him.

“Aw, I knew you liked each other,” Kara hums approvingly, mostly to confuse and stress out the Agenda’s idiot lackeys even more than they already are. They deserve a lot worse, frankly. And also, Kon and Match are stuttered to a stop and do both need and deserve to hear some encouragement. “The House of El is very pleased to see it.”

“What the hell are you talking about, you alien freak?!” the scientist demands, visibly sweating from nervous tension and struggling to regain his composure. Kara doesn’t bother looking at him, but bares her teeth sweetly all the same.

“Come on, Kon, give your Match what he needs,” she coaxes lightly, and Kon starts panting harder again, his own chest just shy of outright heaving. “He’s so angry all the time, isn’t he? So unsatisfied. Doesn’t he need someone to treat him right?”

“I really . . .” Kon chokes, a shudder going all the way down his spine and to his respective grips on Match’s wrists. “I really . . . Kara.”

“Doesn’t he smell so good, Kon?” she asks, just a little more coaxing in her tone–and her pheromones, obviously. “Isn’t it just how you’ve been waiting for him to smell?”

Kon makes a strangled sound, and she hears Match’s teeth grind together. They’re both still stuck in their standstill, neither taking their eyes off each other or moving to either accept that offering or retract it.

So Match doesn’t want to stop, and Kon doesn’t know how to start, and again: they don’t know how this goes, but Kara does.

“Relax, Kon,” she says, dropping her voice and pheromones both into soothing notes. Betas soothing anxious or overwhelmed or overemotional alphas and omegas through their cycles is as natural as cycles themselves. “Go with it. Your body just wants you to sympathy-cycle for your Match. Wants to put you in condition to take care of your Match. So let yourself go. Give him what he needs. It's alright.”

“Subject Match!” the scientist snaps sharply, his voice just barely avoiding cracking. “Kill Superboy! Kill him now!”

“Little late for that idea, don’t you think?” asks Kara, who is very much aware that Kon now smells like a Rao-damned forest fire to Kryptonian senses.

#clonecest #kara zor el #kon el #conner kent #dc match #supergirl #superboy #superfamily #wip: we are so pleased with this match #omegaverse #mating cycles/in heat #roosterwhale

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tavolgisvist · 1 day ago

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That evening in the dressing-room of the cinema at York two girls came in and asked to interview them. They said they wanted the interview so they could make a tape of it for a third girl who was ill in hospital. John sat in a corner away from the group. ‘It’s probably just an excuse to get into our dressing-room,’ he says. ‘Anyway women should be obscene and not heard.’ ‘Switch it on now,’ says Paul conducting the interview for the bewildered girls. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks Ringo. ‘John’, says Ringo. He then asks the girls their names. ‘How did you like Germany when you were there?’ asks the girl whose name is Eileen. ‘We liked it fine,’ says Paul. ‘It was hard work,’ says Ringo. ‘Yeah’, says George. All during the interview they sign autograph books that had been sent to their dressing-room, and when they aren’t actually answering a question they read letters from fans. The girls walk over to John. ‘How do you write the songs ?’ says the girl whose name is Daphne. John doesn’t answer. Paul shouts across the room in a voice you use to an errant child, ‘Tell us about the songs, John, tell us about the songs.’ ‘Sometimes we write them together’, says John. ‘Sometimes not. Some of them take four hours; some twenty minutes. Others have been known to take as long as three weeks.’ ‘What’s your favourite song that you’ve written?’ ‘I think “Glad All Over”,’ says Paul, opening his eyes even wider. ‘No, I’m kidding. I think at the moment it’s our new record “I want to hold your hand”. Is that all right ?’ ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ says Eileen. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ ‘Oh dear,’ says Daphne. ‘It doesn’t seem to have been recording. Sorry about that.’ <…> Inside, the compere is asking: ‘Do you want to see John?’ (Screams.) ‘George?’ (Screams.) ‘Paul?’ (Screams.) ‘Ringo?’ (Pandemonium.) They appear, and all during their act a man in a dinner jacket stands in front of the stage looking bewildered. The girls wave, hold up pictures, and scream. <…> Paul runs off stage shouting, ‘Oh my God, my ulcer. Nell, do you have a ciggy?’ Aspinall alternately hands him a cigarette and leads him toward the stage door where their car is waiting to take them to the hotel. <…>

The Beatles are in their hotel bedrooms finishing their dinners. George feels tired and goes to sleep. John, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of trousers, wanders down the hallway past the guard, into the room shared by Paul and Ringo. The table filled with the empty dinner dishes is at the foot of Ringo’s bed. Ringo, dressed in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed. Paul, also in pyjamas, is talking about a film, The Trial, which he has just seen in London. He is describing a scene in which there is a misunderstanding about a word, when the telephone rings. ‘Hello, helloho,’ says Paul in a falsetto and then, realizing it is a friend, says Hello seriously. <…> ‘What I liked best in The Trial’, he says, ‘was when they walked quietly through the concentration camp. It was so dead quiet, just like another world and Elsa Martinelli in the background just necking like mad.’ <…> ‘Uh, I need another drink, baby,’ says John. Paul goes to the phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, send us six single Scotches - No, make it doubles, yeah, doubles.’ <…> They started discussing the feelings of adults towards pop music. ‘We’re definitely fighting a prejudice,’ says John. ‘That’s why I’m interested in John getting his book out,’ says Paul. ‘I mean, I haven’t got a cut or anything. It’s just that one of us would be doing something to make people notice. I mean, it’s the same as if one of us wrote a musical. People would get rid of their prejudice and stop thinking that pop people can only sing or go into a dance routine.’ <…> ‘You remember after that big spate of publicity we got in the national papers,’ says John, ‘which was uncalled for by our office. We were news at the time, and it only just happened we clicked in fourteen editors’ minds at the same time. One day Paul was ill and I believe one of the papers wanted a picture of him. Nell told them they couldn’t have it, and the photographer said: “You mean, after all the publicity we gave them – we made them.” I’d like to meet this fella who said it.’ Paul explained that they never talk to the teenage magazines. ‘They just make it up. I think they prefer it that way…’

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

(Also about Paul's flue)

#i'm reading #love me do: the beatles progress #michael braun #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #1963 #john and paul

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starberry-cupcake · 3 days ago

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SHORT STORY + BONUSES (read it like when gollum says bagginses) INTERMISSION!!! Today we'll take some time to dive into the Harrow bonuses and a couple of short stories, one of which I should have read before, but such is life.

previously, in the tlt universe:

I finished harrowcita del 9

Bonus 1: BoE google doc for the soldiers

differently from the other recaps, I did these while I was reading them, not when I finished reading a whole chapter/story

so maybe the thoughts are more rambly than usual

sorry about that

ANYWAY I have to give it to the BoE folks, they've got a lot to deal with over here

they're like the audience, coming into this blind

and have to try to understand how necromancers operate on the fly

'bullet to the head but don't be too confident on that' seems to be the most useful tidbit

it's like a resident evil gameplay

BoE is in resident evil, gideon is in survivor and harrow is in a gothic pulp novel

the advice for engaging lyctors is "avoid them at all costs"

I keep spelling it BoA instead of BoE because of her

blood of adam? blood of awake me up when september ends? idk

Pronounciation guide (aka I do what I want, but apparently pronounce nonagesimus like the author)

dr reverend emperor john chose the name gaius for himself, it wasn't his real name

gaius sounds like gallo, the spanish name for gallus gallus domesticus, which in english would translate to cock and alludes to the fact that he is a dick

agustine is pronounced like in english and not like in spanish (agustín), I have been pronouncing that one right but I could have called him agustín all this time

cassiopeia was a queen but we already knew that

sixth house, ceramics, cooking, checks every one of my boxes

"CRIS-ta-bell. Rather than “crees”."

what is the difference oh my god is there a difference there

pyrrah is achilles's drag name, which is cool

valancy and cyrus were like this

I'm still gonna call the mithraeum mithrandir whatnot the emperor's bolthole, it's in the sacred text

the nonniad is in dactylic enneameter, which is a ninth version of greek epics (which are hexameters) and it's making me send my ancient greek professor from uni good vibes wherever he is

Glossary

we know more about the beasts now, or have more ordered info, the gist of it is this

so the RBs are only the nine OGs from the nine planets of dominicus that the emperor fucked up

those are the ones that can go from the river to the physical world and viceversa

the other minor beasts can only exist in the river

I still think this is all the emperor's and the lyctors's fault for starting this nonsense and killing planets for power and whatnot

so yeah, Consequences of your Actions, johnny boy

the heralds, as we had established, are kind of like borg, responding to the RBs

necromancers kinda go mad at all this as if they were looking at cthulhu

I wanted to google what the two first verses of wake's name were but the first results that pop up are tlt sources and I'm not looking into that, in case of spoilers

I've already come this far without massive spoilers, I'm not gonna risk that now

what quotes would you like to have as a name if you were one of these folks?

If I could choose three, I'd probably pick: Yo tengo el corazón como la espuma / das Leben Sie nicht vergessen hat, daß es Sie in der Hand hält / Quieto en la tierra y sentir que mis pies tienen raíz

probably un monceau d’idées et un monceau de douleurs would be another contender considered

idk how that'd be shortened though, maybe espie because espuma

house quiz was book 1, boe name assignment is book 2

The Mysterious Study of Doctor [tumblr keeps blocking my post and I'm gonna try to avoid this word to see if this is it]

ANYWAY, SIXTH HOUSE TIME

from the blurb I can tell that:

1) all this time I thought Dr S was like a funny nickname someone had given palmolive for being correspondence-horny lmao

2) is this the magnus institute???

3) "Enter Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect, age thirteen" we're gonna look at some baby picturessss

"Every thirteen-year-old necromancer in the Sixth House is gifted."

"I was born with four kids in my generation eligible to produce children with me. Palamedes had two"

maybe that's why he went for a correspondence gf

camilla describing that's she's the best and me just going

this thing of 'being attractive' as a category would get me demoted at the sixth, though

but working in data, I can do that

I am really liking archivist zeta

there's something that was sealed for a lot of years and now is unsealed and that's very exciting!!!!

lost media!!!!

so many stairs would be a problem for me, but there's lost media at the end of the tunnel

archivist zeta: don't touch anything

palmolive: including the bone hands?

archivist zeta: the what now

apparently the hands are younger than the time the room has been sealed

with the forms being color-coded, I'm starting to think this is less magnus institute and more office of incident assessment and response

them making references to other houses remind me that other houses socialized, seeing everything from the ninth made me feel like everyone was isolated all the time lol

add to my list of sixth house love the fact that we have murder mysteries now too

gotta love the sixth house

kinda ominous the hand bones now that we know what we know, of camilla carrying palmolive as a tamagotchi in a bone hand after harrow changed the skull

palmolive and camilla age 13 are a whole other book I would have devoured at age 13 myself btw

giving me his dark materials vibes

there was a skeleton in the air vents above the hands

camilla says she's gonna start taking measuring tape with her alongside everything else and I also can relate to going places with 25 million things, just in case

palmolive steals pens, apparently

I've used this meme for palmolive before but it still fits

the skeleton was possessed by the dr himself, he got kinda stuck on his way there after the fifth person tried to call him and got his hands into his study through skeleton shenaningans

palmolive needs to touch something in order to prove the "why" and everyone votes in favor, because he's on a roll

the cool wooden orb that was in the desk was a cool wooden puzzle, like the Karakuri Creation Group ones

man, I love those

the dr solving a puzzle after his death and coming back to prove it is me with some niche puzzles I used to have a sideblog for

don't ask me

there was paper inside and everyone got outside super fast and started congratulating each other (hello????? you did nothing????) and shaking camilla's and palmolive's hands

they don't wanna give palmolive multiple points for solving a several hundread years old mystery, which isn't fair tbh

"Don’t expire in a fit of hubris." oofffffffff

the paper had letters, which palmolive thinks are love letters

with his years of experience on pining letters

the one at the ends says "Tomorrow you will become a Lyctor and finally go where I can’t follow"

is this about cassie??? aka cassiopeia????

loved the camilla and palmolive murder mystery dinner

As Yet Unsent

this is judith's diary and this is how I imagine she looked while writing it and judging people

judith assisted the BoE with her own healing but it's kinda tough when you're also handcuffed and with your eyes covered and whatnot

judith is still in the emperor's side

I don't blame her, she hasn't met the man

yandere twin has met him and still saved him so, I can't judge judith too much

there's a corpse that isn't rotting

promising stuff

there's a commander called We Suffer

they're wearing masks and camilla is being "converted" to their cause

and she didn't even meet the man, but apparently BoE had contact with the sixth house at some point in the past

cassie?????? is this you??????? who knows

sixth house though, earning more points

also, camilla says that palmolive would want to find out what they know and, you know what, fair

I would too

camilla is also good at chess, because she's good at everything

they're playing ceiling chess like in queen's gambit

judith thinks about martita, who will soon do some awesome things next to mati nonnius

judith is also marinating the fact that everyone was fooled by the twinsies and the fact that regina george twin has no necromancy

she also complains about her being too emotional and prone to trust people

every point regina george twin makes about BoE sounds pretty solid to me tbh

the more I see, the more I think the emperor is a dick, like his name implies

judith argues with regina george twin a lot but also notices that her ears go pink when she's impassioned so...why are you noticing that judith????

how did you notice that???? *smirks knowingly*

judith has to deal with the limitations of medical care when you don't have a bunch of people who do body magic stuff

so she's dealing with recovery in a slow way and with machines plugged to her

it's hard for her because she was from the house where necros are also very able to do physical stuff

camilla is giving her strongly worded positive reinforcement

regina george twin and judith have a lot of moments that go from flirty to fighting

I can't keep using smirk reactions images so (¬‿¬)

regina george twin is also being trained to be rambo barbie and I think that suits her

"In a different time I would have found ways to apologise to Palamedes Sextus, whom I at the very least critically misjudged"

palmolive always getting the indirect compliments my goodness

he's so popular

"The princess has by turns tried to charm Camilla, play with Camilla, flirt with Camilla, and cajole Camilla. Camilla is currently unmoved"

nobody's good enough for her, regina george twin, move along

regina george twin is also being kinda aphobic towards judith's response on her being uninterested to romance camilla

I don't think judith is aro at all but that doesn't mean we have to be assholes about it, regina george twin, thank you

judith and regina george twin think BoE is wrong about necros having orgies and I'm here like

so, apparently, judith propositioned martita because she was pretty much obsessed with her

and martita said no

and she thinks camilla is holding onto tamgagotchi palmolive out of some sense of not wanting to let go of him

unaware of the fact that he's in his river loft waiting for his bones to be womanhandled by harrowcita

also, the BoE has an old ship that judith wasn't helpful with, so they don't really have much patience with her

regina george twin and judith keep flirting in that intense tlt way

I'm starting to think regina george twin has a big crush on judith and I'm here for the dynamics of that

"It said, Ugh! Then it said, Eugh!" is this mercygirl??? it sounds like mercygirl to me

and fixing someone's insides as if they were cleaning a sewing machine also sounds very mercygirl

mercygirl is also curious about this body that doesn't rot and I wanna know what it is because I want so bad for it to be gideon-related but I can't let myself hope

also, she gave them the coordinates to find harrow in the cool planet

"And Camilla said, The Warden and I know they can die like anyone else" 👀

"The corpse of the Ninth House cavalier is as pristine as when Camilla Hect convinced them to take it on board"

YESSSSSSS

YEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

MY HOPES WEREN'T UNWARRANTED

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

GIDEON ARMS INTACT BABYYYYYYYY

regina george twin proposes necro-cav marriage to judith and judith says no because no relationship here can be straightforward

"Why would I ever knowingly take Coronabeth Tridentarius’s, having desired her already for twelve long, stupid, fruitless years?!"

DRAMAAAAA

AND THAT'S IT!!!! FINALLY!!! This took me a lot longer than I wanted it too but I enjoyed the stories ♥ See you in the next one!!

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #long post #harrow the ninth

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captain-pheonix · 3 days ago

Note

Hello. I will call you Phoenix because that sounds very cool and you are cool and I platonically like you and enjoy your works.

Anyways I have come to request an all mercs + Pauling if you’re comfortable and want to write that. (If not maybe just Medic +whoever else you want to write for.) with a reader who has Schizophrenia? I’ve been going through some moments with it and the TF2 mercs are my comfort characters and your blog just feels nice.

If you aren’t comfortable with this feel free to block me or just ignore this ask entirely! Thank you very much!

A/n: GAHHH ILY PLATONICALLY TOO 🫶 ty for sending in a request, I’m so glad you enjoy my works! I try my best! I made sure I did some more extensive reasearch about schizophrenia/the real experience with it before I wrote this, please let me know if I should make some edits! (And other ppl reading this, also don’t be afraid to send an ask about making edits!)

Mercs + Pauling w/ reader w/ Schizophrenia (headcannons)

(Platonic or romantic!)

Pauling:

- will have some guilt about how she works all the time and can’t be there for you

- might send some gifts and call you in between jobs/travel, asking how you’ve been, asking if now was a good time or if you needed a distraction

- as soon as she gets the chance to come see you, she takes it

- asks over and over if you’re okay, because it’s been keeping her anxious on her jobs

- she’ll comfort you with sweet words over the phone if you call her for help

- reminds you to take your meds

Scout:

- absolutely clueless

- buys into stereotypes

- “the voices” type shit

- this guy is gonna need a thorough explanation as to how you feel all the time

- probably asks you how you’re feeling all the time too

- might be a little too quick to do his sneak-attack hugs

- likes hugging you a lot, so that could offer some grounding if you’re having delusions/hallucinations

- words of affirmation 10/10

- expect a lot of words…

- speaking of a lot of words, need an auditory distraction? The scout-o-matic is here! (Only $69.99)

Soldier:

- clueless prick

- thinks you’re some spy or something

- it might take the entirety of the team to convince him otherwise and try to explain it to him with your help

- might also buy into the stereotypes

- if you say you hear or see something that man is going to run around screaming with his shovel trying to chase them off for you (believes they’re real, but only you have magic powers to see them or something)

Medic:

- #1 meds administer

- does not buy into stereotypes, since he may know something about it

- (fw researching you heavy)

- dude is taking notes as you’re straight up not having it

- jk he goes to comfort you if he can after a bit

- you WILL be staying in the infirmary with him (sorry I don’t make the rules)

- will look into techniques to help you

Demo:

- you already know he’s offering alcohol to take the edge off/distract

- you have tried many times to tell him that that will not work

- if you had alcohol with your meds things would not end well

- offers himself as a napping space for being really exhausted (I’d take him up on that)

- he might already be passed out when you go to ask if you two can nap

- might wanna just scootch in there

Heavy:

- will protect you from the bad things (or at least try)

- if someone hurt pookie that’s no good it will not do

- offers protective bear hugs if you need something/somewhere/someone to cuddle up to and be distracted/grounded

Pyro:

- if you’re describing what you see to them, or have in the past, they might try to draw them with good old fashioned crayons and printer paper

- also schizophrenic 😭

- huge empathy from them

- but uhm they might also just straight up not know they’re schizophrenic, so bro could just be like “same”

- alright enough Gen z talk from me (there can never be enough)

- even if just hanging out with them makes you feel more comfortable

Sniper:

- probably feels bad for you

- opts to hang out indoors if hallucinations/delusions are not fun outside

- comforts you when you think you see or hear something

Spy:

- if he’s attempting to be subtle you might expect some noise cancelling headphones and other helpful tools show up at your door

- if you need a break from certain rooms he’s definitely gonna offer his smoking room

- gets you pill organizers for your meds if that’s something you struggle with

- offers lots of gentle comfort

- let’s be honest, this guy was clueless before you started talking to him about it and what it was

- now he just wants to offer help

Engie:

- probably pities you a bit

- gives you that Texan hospitality but may take a bit to understand you better

- will 10/10 make you something if there’s something he can make to help and if it’s possible

- gonna try everything in his power to make your life easier

————————

Hopefully I did okay 😭 ty for sending in your request!!

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mj-iza-writer · 17 hours ago

Text

Note on the story. I called these lab rats lab babies because they were raised in the lab, and are a little better cared for than rats.

Happy Thanksgiving to those celebrating. If you are not celebrating for whatever reason that you have a great day. -MJ

"D-do we get special food today sir?", Whumpee eagerly followed Whumper down the hall to Test Room 2.

"Hmm.. special food? What are you implying my dear?", Whumper looked over their shoulder to see Whumpee, "why would you get special food? I'm not testing anything with your diets right now."

"Oh, uhm... you told us about this thing where tables of food are set out. All you have to say is something you are thankful for and you get a lot of food", Whumpee eagerly walked in front of Whumper causing them to stop walking, "we were wondering if we could or maybe would have something like that. The past doctors never told us about this, though they never really talked to us anyways. You are the only one who has told us about stuff on the outside. We've never seen the outside world."

"Yes, all of you were born here in the lab.... I should say made here in the lab. The other doctors thought it would be best for you all to not know what you were missing. Plus, they didn't care to have a relationship with all of you", Whumper stepped forward, "come along, we have plenty of test to conduct, and little time to do so."

"Why did you tell us about the outside world then?", Whumpee followed.

"Why are you full of questions today?", Whumper frowned as they opened the door.

"I don't know. You say yourself a questioning mind is never bored. You haven't said no about the special food", Whumpee grinned.

"I haven't exactly said yes either my dear", Whumper grinned, "undress and climb on my table please."

Whumpee nodded and started to disrobe.

"I told all of you stories about the outside world so you can know and dream about what it looks like. Though Max thought the sky was purple until I took them outside to see that it was in fact blue", Whumper pulled out a step for Whumpee.

"Max went outside?", Whumpee looked up curiously.

"Yes, we had gotten into an argument about the sky. Max got the best of me, and I dragged them outside to prove it", Whumper sighed, "though looking back, that was probably a ploy to go outside. You were raised by scientists, so you are all quite smart."

Whumper reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of crackers. They took one out for themself, then offered the bag for Whumpee to take one.

Whumpee happily munched on the treat as Whumper started to their test.

Whumpee eagerly sat at the front of their cell. They looked up with sad puppy eyes as scientists and nurses walked past.

"Give it up Whumpee, it isn't going to happen', someone looked at them, "you look like a pitiful dog begging for scraps."

"He didn't say no though. I've been dreaming about this since Doctor told us about it", Whumpee watched as another nurse walked past.

"I've been hoping that we could try that uhm... something -mas. That would be really cool", Pipsqueak, the youngest of the lab babies spoke up, "I would love to have a toy like one of the ones I colored in the book Doctor gave me."

"I think you mean Christmas", Max spoke up.

Whumpee nodded.

The lights dimmed slightly, a sign that a new part of the day was starting.

Whumpee sighed and slipped back against the wall. Everyone who worked there was set to go to dinner. It would be a while before someone would walk past again.

"See, I told you. They will just come by later with our meal trays. All of which will contain our specific diet regimes", they looked at Whumpee sadly, "in the end, we are only property. You got yourself excited for nothing, and even a few of us got our hopes up because of you."

Whumpee looked down, "I just wanted to know what it was like.... to be... a.. normal person", they looked up awkwardly when the door opened.

"What's going on in here?", someone came into the hall where the lab babies were kept.

"Nothing sir.... just talking", Max spoke up when everyone else kept quiet.

"Oh?", Whumper turned to look over them all, "you know there is a pretty cool party happening a few rooms over. All the scientists, nurses, and doctors are there. Even maintenance, housekeeping, and, of course, the kitchen staff are there. We realized, though. An important group is missing from the party", Whumper leaned against the wall close to the button to release all of the lab babies at once, "I suppose it wouldn't be a real family meal without our babies present. Would any of you like to come join us for Thanksgiving?"

Everyone's hand shout out of the bars of their cells.

"I thought so", Whumper chuckled and reached to press the button.

"I want you all to follow me to the room. Once there, you will get with your respective nurse, who will help you get your food together. That way, your allergies and dietary needs are met", Whumper sighed.

Whumpee excitedly skipped to Whumper.

"Yes I will help you get your tray since you don't technically have a nurse right now", Whumper grinned.

"I knew you were doing something", Whumpee looked at them excitedly.

"Did you now?", Whumper chuckled, "I did say you were all smart. Come on now get into line."

The babies got into a single file line and looked up at Whumper.

"Very good. Come on, let's get some food", Whumper grinned.

Inside of the cafeteria, everyone went to their nurse and started to look at all of the food options.

Whumper carried a new tray to Whumpee.

"Do you see anything you like?", Whumper watched as Whumpee looked over the table.

"Everything", Whumpee whispered, "I've never seen so much food", Whumpee looked up, "Is this when we say what we are thankful for?", Whumpee looked at everyone's trays.

"You can if you like", Whumper smiled, "you can't have any of the cranberry sauce, it will have a negative effect on your medication. That's your only limitation, everything else is fair game."

"I'm thankful that you are in charge of the lab now. We've never had a doctor that cares about us like you do", Whumpee looked at Whumper with innocent eyes.

"Even when my tests hurt?", Whumper started to scoop out some food.

"Yes, some the tests hurt, but that is what we are here for. In the end, we know you care, even if it's a little", Whumpee smiled.

Whumper scooped a spoonful of everything Whumpee had pointed at. Their tray was heaping when they finally sat down.

"Now, do not feel like you need to eat all of this", Whumper looked over the group, "this is your first time deciding on what you want to eat, and I think all of you went a little overboard. Especially you Pipsqueak. That is a lot of potatoes. Just eat what you can."

All of the babies looked at each other's trays.

"Do we get to eat dessert too?", Max smirked.

"Let's see how you all do with dinner first. Then we can talk about dessert", Whumper chuckled.

Whumper checked in on the babies.

Everyone had fallen back from their trays and was laying on the floor.

"My what's happened here?", Whumper chuckled.

"So much food", Pipsqueak groaned.

"You were right. We over did it", Whumpee looked up sadly, "I can't eat another bite."

"Well, it was easy to see you guys overfilled your trays. I told everyone to let you do it though. I wanted all of you to enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner. The best way to do that was to be like everyone else and overindulge. We will serve dessert tomorrow for one of your treats so you won't miss out."

Everyone nodded, "thankyou Doctor", they said in unison.

The lab babies watched and listened as everyone gathered together and talked amongst their meals.

Whumper even pulled out a few games and toys for the group to play with. The nurses and scientists joined in with the activities.

Whumper led everyone back to their cell rooms.

The nurses helped get the overfilled lab babies ready for bed.

Whumper sat down next to Whumpee's bed and played with their hair for a few minutes.

"Did you enjoy your first Thanksgiving?"

Whumper's eyes gleamed happily as Whumpee nodded.

"How about the rest of you? Did we enjoy Thanksgiving?", Whumper called to the rest.

"Yes", everyone spoke in unison.

"I am so full", Pipsqueak peaked into Whumpee's cell then followed their nurse to their own cell.

"I'm glad everyone enjoyed", Whumper stood, "tomorrow is a day off for all of you, so you all get to relax. Sound like a fair deal?"

"Thankyou", Max called from their bed, "I don't know if I'd be able to move tomorrow."

"Well, goodnight to all of you", Whumper closed Whumpee's bars, "we will see all of you in the morning."

"I'm so happy we got to experience that", Whumpee whispered loudly after the door closed, "I'm so full, but that was amazing."

"It feels strange to be allowed to do this stuff. All of our lives have been in the dark. Having experiences like this feels so wrong", someone could be heard shuffling around their cell, "is this what it feels like to be a real human?"

"I don't know. I can imagine something like this wouldn't make some as excited as it has made us", Max spoke, "maybe it's just another day for some. I'm sure others didn't have a good day today and I'm sorry for them."

"I would love to have more potatoes tomorrow", Pipsqueak giggled.

"Doctor gave us a day off tomorrow even", Whumpee remembered, "I hope this doctor never leaves us. I don't know if we'd be lucky to get another doctor like him."

Everyone sighed happily.

"Well goodnight", Max rolled over to face the wall.

"Goodnight", everyone repeated.

Pipsqueak started to giggle.

"What's so funny Pipsqueak?", Whumpee whispered.

"I wonder if that means we will get to have Christmas", Pipsqueak whispered.

"Both of you go to bed", someone warned.

"Sorry", Pipsqueak and Whumpee giggled again, "Goodnight."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald

@jasperthecapser @does-directions

@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter

@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@thenormalestever @whatwhump

@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation

#whump community #happy thanksgiving #happy whumpsgiving #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump scenario #whump #whumper #carewhumper #whumpee #lab whump #lab whumpee #lab rat whumpee #caretaking #oc #lab babies

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