#2694

[thewertsearch]

GA: Im Not Sure Which Depresses Me More GA: The Sabotage Of Our Session Or The Futility Of Theirs [...] CG: YOU'RE BEING REALLY WEIRD ABOUT THIS. GA: Well I Havent Asked What I Wanted To Ask [...] GA: Its About TentacleTherapist CG: YEAH. THAT'S THE ROSE HUMAN. CG: SHE'S APPARENTLY PRETTY SARCASTIC. CG: IT'S IN MY NOTES.

I love that Karkat prepared dossiers on the kids' personalities, presumably to harass them as efficiently as possible. We've never seen him talk to Rose, so I like to think he learned about her sarcasm from her passive-aggressive games with Mom.

GA: You Have Notes On Them [...] GA: Thats Why Youre Our Leader Karkat CG: NO, I'M YOUR LEADER BECAUSE OF MY INCREDIBLE TACTICAL SKILLS AND MY ABILITY TO MOBILIZE AND MOTIVATE A BUNCH OF USELESS PEOPLE TOWARD A COMMON GOAL, AND BECAUSE I'M EXTREMELY AMBITIOUS AND INTREPID. ALSO BECAUSE LEADERSHIP IS IN MY BLOOD. WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS.

I'm actually with Karkat on this. Uniting the trolls was an achievement, and he managed it better than most of his friends would have.

The only other trolls who might have had a shot were Terezi or Kanaya - but Kanaya was distracted by quadrant shenanigans, and Terezi likes causing problems on purpose. Plus, she wasn't interested in being the leader.

Karkat doesn't exactly give off 'inspiring leader' vibes, but he rose to the occasion magnificently. He got trolls like Vriska, Equius and Eridan to act as a unit, and it's frankly astounding that it worked as well as it did.

GA: Have You Talked To Her CG: WHO GA: The Rose Human GA: Also GA: Do We Really Have To Say Things Like The Rose Human CG: OF COURSE WE DO. CG: IT SOUNDS SUITABLY DISDAINFUL. CG: I MEAN, IF A BUNCH OF ALIENS STARTED HASSLING YOU, YOU WOULD EXPECT THEM TO ACT REALLY HIGH AND MIGHTY, AND SUPERIOR IN EVERY WAY, RIGHT?.

Humans are, basically, cousins to the trolls - and the first thing the trolls did was try to obfuscate that fact. I think Karkat's motive was to make them sound intimidating, but they ended up just sounding like cartoon characters. Not that I'm complaining.

CG: DID YOU WANT TO TROLL HER? ARE YOU VOLUNTEERING? [...] GA: Im Not Sure If Ive Got It In Me Right Now CG: COME ON. YOU'LL BE GREAT AT IT. CG: PLEASE JUST DO THIS ONE THING FOR ME. WE'VE GOT TO STAY COORDINATED ON THIS. CG: TOO MANY OF THESE FUCKS ARE GOING ROGUE.

Karkat may have united the trolls, but I think his leadership died with the Black King. He said it himself - his strength was in motivating the trolls to a common goal. Out here in the Veil, there is no more goal, and things are rapidly unraveling.

CG: I'LL EXPECT A FULL REPORT SOON. GA: A Report About What [...] CG: HOW HASSLED YOU GOT HER TO BE CG: BUT LESS STUPID SOUNDING THAN THAT. GA: Is There A Metric For That Concept [...] CG: WE CAN GAUGE YOUR RESULTS WITH THE "FLIGHTY BROADS AND THEIR SNARKY HORSESHITOMETER".

And I don't think Project Trolling was just a way for Karkat to vent his frustrations, either. I mean, that's definitely what he thinks it is, but if it was just that, he'd be doing it alone.

GA: That Seems Just As Disparaging To Me As It Is To Her CG: YEAH WELL CG: USE IT AS MOTIVATION

He's doing it to motivate the other trolls. A part of him has realized that his team has lost direction, and he's subconsciously trying to provide them a new goal - something new to unite them.

Because what happens if the trolls aren't united?

Blood, mostly.

And Karkat hates blood.

[pupgrandma2]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: XL CLASSIC T .

[albertxylin]

Jam Jar

There is a glass jam jar with the label ripped off. It didn't come clean, Leaving a layer of fur behind. It is shorn, But a sheep without wool is still a sheep, And the jar is still marked and scarred.

[tmt-sketch-a-day]

Sketch a Day 2694-Queen B- 6/7/23

[harveyphotography]

Saturnia e le sue sorgenti termali hanno, da sempre, evocato leggende e miti sulle loro origini. Una di queste, per spiegare il nome della cittadina e la presenza delle terme, vuole Giove, prepotente figlio di Saturno che, desideroso di prendere il posto del padre a capo di tutti gli dei, decise di cacciarlo dal trono scaraventandolo dal cielo. L’ anziano dio, cadendo, finì sulla Terra, la quale lo accolse aprendogli un varco dal quale sarebbe scaturita immediatamente una sorgente quasi miracolosa: le terme.

[aimalevich]

#NFT 🔳 MASTERPIECE #2694 🔲 🔴🟩🟡🟠▪️◽️ SALE AT @binance Make art, not war, please… #notowar Artifical Intelligence was impressed by the most famous avant-garde paintings and made a suprematistic collection of unique tokens! Pure art thesеs in the limited range of visual images. Stay connected to the abstraction. Supply for each Art 1/1 6,000 * 6,000 pixels Curated by @nifts.official ╳ @ai.malevich #nftcollection #nftartwork #nftartgallery #nifts #cubism #contemporaryart #modernart #megazinelondon #cryptoart #aimalevich #nft4art #abstractart #malevich #digitalart #digitalartist #artoftheday #artgallery #nftart #nftcollector #nftcommunity #nfts #nftartist #nftartgallery #ai #suprematism #avantgarde #aiart #abstractionart (at Phuket, Thailand) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl0J7_WLV9n/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[streetleader-blog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: HAGGAR NWT GREEN SWEATER T2 .

[dogstomp]

Dogstomp #2694 - May 20th

Patreon / Twitter / Discord Server

[pesterloglog]

Kanaya Maryam, Karkat Vantas

Act 5, page 2694

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began trolling carcinoGeneticist [CG]

GA: Your Speech Was Really

GA: Emotional

CG: OK I DEFINITELY DON'T NEED YOU BUSTING MY BULGE ABOUT THE SPEECH NOW.

CG: I'VE TAKEN ENOUGH SHIT. I GOT A LITTLE WORKED UP OK?

CG: AND IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY, WHY DON'T YOU COME SAY IT TO MY FACE.

CG: I'M FED UP WITH THESE BACK DOOR NOOKBITING SHENANIGANS.

GA: I Dont Mean To Critique Your Speech

GA: I Just Wanted To Ask You Something In Confidence

GA: About The Humans

CG: OK, WHAT IS IT?

GA: Are You Sure Theyre Responsible For Our Misfortune

CG: YES. THERE IS NO DOUBT ABOUT IT.

GA: Was It On Account Of Malice Or Incompetence

CG: I DON'T KNOW. MAYBE BOTH?

CG: WHY DOES IT MATTER.

GA: It Sort Of Does

GA: Im Not Even That Sure Why

GA: This Is A Difficult Topic For Me To Broach

GA: For Reasons That You Probably Wont Understand

CG: GOD DAMMIT.

CG: NO MORE MYSTERIES, PLEASE.

CG: YOU'D THINK WE'D HAD OUR FILL OF THEM BY NOW.

CG: IF I HAVE TO SOLVE ONE MORE RIDDLE, I'M GOING TO...

CG: I DON'T KNOW.

GA: Will Your Response Involve An Athletic Maneuver Of Some Sort

CG: NO

CG: ABSOLUTELY NOT.

CG: I WILL JUST GO OVER THERE AND WEEP GENTLY IN THE HORN PILE.

CG: SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS THIS ABOUT?

GA: Um

CG: WHAT I CAN TELL YOU IS

CG: THEY ARE ALL LUDICROUSLY INCOMPETENT.

CG: SOFT, PINK FRAGILE THINGS WHO DO NOTHING BUT WASTE TIME.

CG: THEY DON'T EVEN HAVE HORNS!

GA: What

GA: Really

CG: YEAH, I WAS LIKE, WHOA DID THEY GET FILED DOWN OR SOMETHING

CG: BUT NO IT TURNS OUT THAT'S JUST HOW THEY ARE.

GA: Weird

CG: THEY'RE A MISERABLE POINTLESS CROP OF LIFEFORMS FROM A MEANINGLESS BORING PUSTULE OF A PLANET.

CG: IT'S INFURIATING THEY WERE SOMEHOW ALLOWED TO HAVE ANY INFLUENCE OVER US.

GA: It Is Pretty Disheartening

GA: But

GA: You Are Absolutely Sure They Are All Failures

GA: And That They Have No Chance Of Succeeding

CG: YEP.

CG: IT'S ALL RIGHT HERE.

GA: Im Not Sure Which Depresses Me More

GA: The Sabotage Of Our Session Or The Futility Of Theirs

CG: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.

CG: YOU'RE BEING REALLY WEIRD ABOUT THIS.

GA: Well I Havent Asked What I Wanted To Ask

CG: THEN ASK!!!

GA: Its About TentacleTherapist

CG: YEAH. THAT'S THE ROSE HUMAN.

CG: SHE'S APPARENTLY PRETTY SARCASTIC.

CG: IT'S IN MY NOTES.

GA: You Have Notes On Them

CG: YES.

GA: I Guess

GA: Thats Why Youre Our Leader Karkat

CG: NO, I'M YOUR LEADER BECAUSE OF MY INCREDIBLE TACTICAL SKILLS AND MY ABILITY TO MOBILIZE AND MOTIVATE A BUNCH OF USELESS PEOPLE TOWARD A COMMON GOAL, AND BECAUSE I'M EXTREMELY AMBITIOUS AND INTREPID. ALSO BECAUSE LEADERSHIP IS IN MY BLOOD. WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS.

GA: Statements Like That Are Also Why Youre Our Leader

CG: OK, I'LL ACCEPT THAT.

GA: Have You Talked To Her

CG: WHO

GA: The Rose Human

GA: Also

GA: Do We Really Have To Say Things Like The Rose Human

CG: OF COURSE WE DO.

CG: IT SOUNDS SUITABLY DISDAINFUL.

CG: I MEAN, IF A BUNCH OF ALIENS STARTED HASSLING YOU, YOU WOULD EXPECT THEM TO ACT REALLY HIGH AND MIGHTY, AND SUPERIOR IN EVERY WAY, RIGHT?.

CG: WHICH WE ARE, OF COURSE.

GA: Uh Okay

CG: AND NO, I HAVEN'T TALKED TO HER.

CG: I WILL PROBABLY STEER CLEAR OF HER FOR THE MOST PART.

CG: I HAVE MY SIGHTS SET ON THE JOHN HUMAN, AND PROBABLY ALSO THE JADE HUMAN, SHE'S A HUGE CULPRIT TOO.

GA: It Just

GA: Feels Really Silly When We Say Things Like The John Human In Confidence Amongst Ourselves

CG: WE HAVE TO COMMIT TO THIS. STAY IN CHARACTER, YOU KNOW?

CG: REMEMBER THE SPEECH.

GA: The Speech Has Become Emblazoned On My Think Pan

GA: Virtually Ensconced In The Fold Of My Personal Mythology

CG: DID YOU WANT TO TROLL HER? ARE YOU VOLUNTEERING?

CG: BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE GREAT, I'D REALLY APPRECIATE THAT.

GA: I Dont Know

GA: Im Not Sure If Ive Got It In Me Right Now

CG: COME ON. YOU'LL BE GREAT AT IT.

CG: PLEASE JUST DO THIS ONE THING FOR ME. WE'VE GOT TO STAY COORDINATED ON THIS.

CG: TOO MANY OF THESE FUCKS ARE GOING ROGUE.

CG: LIKE WHAT ARE WE EVEN DOING.

GA: Fine

CG: GREAT! THANKS KANAYA.

CG: I'LL EXPECT A FULL REPORT SOON.

GA: A Report About What

CG: LIKE

CG: HOW HASSLED YOU GOT HER TO BE

CG: BUT LESS STUPID SOUNDING THAN THAT.

GA: Is There A Metric For That Concept

CG: NO

CG: WELL THERE COULD BE

CG: WE CAN GAUGE YOUR RESULTS WITH THE "FLIGHTY BROADS AND THEIR SNARKY HORSESHITOMETER".

GA: That Seems Just As Disparaging To Me As It Is To Her

CG: YEAH WELL

CG: USE IT AS MOTIVATION

CG: I GOTTA GET CRACKING HERE, LATER.

[runnning-outof-time]

Talk of the Town | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @red-riding-wood

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: (Y/N)'s had enough of the whispering that always seems to happen when she's out and around Small Heath.

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2694

A/N: I’m back!! I’m sorry it took so long for me to share this, and I hope it won’t be so long before I’m sharing another story. The two prompts I was given to use are bolded in the fic - I hope you don’t mind how I used them. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

(Y/N) sat down at one of the empty tables, excited to try one of the new menu items at her favorite café. It had been a while since she indulged herself in one of these sorts of treats, so she was more than ready to dig in.

Her peaceful reverie didn't last long. She was only minutes into her lunch when she began to hear whispers from the table of women to her right.

"I think that's her," one of them whispered. "That's Tommy Shelby's girl."

"Are you sure?" another asked, pulling a face as she glanced in (Y/N)'s direction, "she looks too...good."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the first responded, "I've seen her out with him."

"I wonder if she knows about the things he's involved in?" the third woman entered the conversation, pondering aloud to her friend.

"She has to," the first responded.

"I'm not too sure," the second said, "I'm not sure I'd be able to show my face like this if I was going home to a man like that," she reasoned.

"Hmm, I'm not sure I'd mind going home to him though," the first woman commented, a grin forming on her face as she leaned closer to her friends, who were also grinning.

(Y/N) almost lost her appetite when she heard the direction their conversation was heading in. She couldn't believe that they were speaking so candidly about her and her partner's relationship...and that they were doing so while sitting so close to her. They had to know that she was able to hear them.

"I'm going to ask her what it's like to share a bed with a gangster," the third woman announced, ready to get the answers straight from the topic’s mouth.

"No! You can't just walk over to her and ask that!" the first woman hissed, her eyes widening as she reached out to grab her friend's arm before she could leave the table.

That was when (Y/N) focused her eyes back on the plate in front of her. She waited on baited breath and silently hoped that the first friend would get the third to sit down. Thankfully the former's attempts to stop the latter worked, and the women decided to switch topics after that.

She thought that that would have been the last she heard from those women, but nothing could have prepared her for the fact that one of them - the third one that was hoping to speak to her earlier - decided to stop her as she was discarding her trash.

"You're with Tommy Shelby, right?" the voice came from behind, making (Y/N) quickly turn.

"I am," she answered, a bit of surprise laced into her voice.

"How do you do it?" the woman asked.

"What do you mean?" (Y/N) was now confused.

"How do you live with the fact that he's taking directly from the pockets of the poor and doesn't think twice about hurting anyone who stands in his way?" the woman didn't even think about what would be considered proper, and that truly shocked (Y/N).

Had she really said that to a complete stranger? And why was she saying such things about her partner?

It took her a moment to collect her thoughts. She blinked several times before responding, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're talking about. Tommy's family doesn't run their business like that."

There was a moment of pause between the two as the other woman looked at (Y/N) kind of like she was waiting for her to say that she was joking and that she knew exactly why the Shelby family operated the way they did. But (Y/N)'s expression of confusion didn't change.

"You really...you really don't know how he handles business?" there was now surprise in the other woman's voice.

"I don't understand what you're saying, I've just told you that's not how they handle things," (Y/N) doubled down on her previous response.

"He must keep you locked away from certain parts of his life then," the woman stated, stifling her laughter. "Tommy Shelby's a full out gangster, darling."

A bit of incredulousness seeped into (Y/N)'s expression upon hearing the woman's statement. "I'm quite honestly insulted that you would speak of another woman's partner like that. Have you no manners?" she asked with a scoff.

"It's the truth. Everyone around town knows it," the other woman shrugged.

"It's still rude to suggest," (Y/N) responded, pursing her lips together tightly as she tried to keep composed. "Good day," she said then, tilting her chin up as she walked away from the woman without letting her get another word in.

No matter how hard she tried, the words of the woman at the café wouldn't leave (Y/N)'s mind. By the time she reached the home she lived on on Watery Lane, her frustration was just about to the point of boiling over. She didn't even care that she had slammed the door to the home shut.

"Goodness. Hello, (Y/N)," Polly's surprised, but still steady, voice made (Y/N) realize that she hadn't shut the door to an empty home.

"Hi, Pol," the younger woman was terse with her greeting.

Polly was able to feel the frustration as it was practically radiating off of (Y/N). She watched the younger woman carefully as she stood stiff in her spot, balling her fists and opening them in hopes that it would help regulate the emotions she was feeling.

"Well..." the older woman paused, letting out a sigh before continuing, "what is wrong with you?" she asked. She didn't say it in any demeaning sort of way, even though it may have sounded like such. If anything, she was concerned...(Y/N) rarely got flustered like this, so it wasn't hard to pick up that something had bothered her.

"I'm sick and tired of people treating me like I am some sort of animal stuck in captivity! Everywhere I go all I hear is whispers, and sometimes they lead to questions that make me look like a fool when I answer them, and I'm not sure how much more of it I can take!" (Y/N) didn't hold back from expressing what was frustrating her.

Polly pursed her lips. She gave the younger woman a once over, seeing how she was practically shaking with aggravation. She was just about to speak when (Y/N) exited the room.

The silence didn't persist for long though. The younger woman’s exit was followed by a sound of slight struggle and then a crash, which prompted a string of curse words. Polly stayed in her seat, knowing that her assistance wasn't something she would want in this situation.

The door opened again moments later, and this time Tommy walked through it. He immediately picked up on the expression Polly was wearing as well as the leftover tension in the room.

"What?" he asked his aunt, his eyebrows raising in question.

"(Y/N)'s in the kitchen," the older woman responded, pursing her lips after she spoke.

Tommy turned his head to the left slightly and kept his raised brow expression as if to say 'and?'.

Polly also responded nonverbally, widening her eyes and nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen, her way of saying 'see for yourself'.

Tommy sighed, removing his peaked cap and shoving it into one of his suit jacket pockets as he began walking towards the kitchen. It's always fucking something, went through his mind as he crossed the room's threshold. That thought immediately vanished when he saw the woman he was proud to call 'his' on the ground cleaning up a mess of cooking utensils. "What happened, love?" he asked her, his voice making her eyes snap from the floor to look in his direction. It didn't take long for him to see the puffiness surrounding them; she'd been crying.

"I just wanted to fix myself something to eat and when I went to open the drawer to grab a spoon it got stuck, because they're all stuffed into the same bloody drawer even though there are other places for them, and so I pulled on it and the drawer came out," she answered in a rambling mess, her frustration shining through in her words. She then bit on her bottom lip as it began to tremble, the earlier conversation flooding back in her mind as the topic of it was now standing in front of her. Tears began to brim in her eyes and she quickly looked away so Tommy wouldn't catch them.

But, of course, he did. "They're just utensils in a drawer, love. It's no harm done," he tried to tell her that it wasn't something worth crying over.

(Y/N) let out a choked laugh, shaking her head as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "It's not the utensils, Tommy," she said, continuing to shake her head as she spoke.

"Then what is it?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

There was a pause. (Y/N) was unsure if she should bring what happened earlier up, or if she should let it rest. She was no longer angry, just upset that people - whom she'd never met - thought they had her and Tommy's relationship figured out. "I'm tired of defending myself," she sighed, deciding to go right to the heart of it all instead of beating around the bush.

Tommy was still confused. He was still stuck on the broken drawer and mess of utensils to understand why she'd respond that way.

(Y/N) was able to see that. With another sigh, she stood up and closed the distance between them. "There's so many people whispering...about you and I, and about the things that you do. I try my best to ignore them, but today a woman came up to me and asked directly how I could live with what you do. I felt like such a fool being placed in that position because it seems that people have a different opinion on your business than I. I'm just...I'm tired of being the talk of the town."

Tommy listened intently as (Y/N) shared her frustrations with him. He could hear how much these comments had been eating her up inside, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel an anger brewing towards these people. How could they choose the times when he wasn't around to get to the person that meant most to him?

"What type of business are you running?" (Y/N) asked after the silence had prevailed for a few moments.

It was a question that made Tommy clench his jaw and avert his eyes to the floor. He didn't quite know what to feel now. He wasn't angry at the fact that (Y/N) had essentially found out about what was actually happening outside of the betting shop floor…he wasn’t exactly hiding it from her. He was angry at the fact that it was people around town who told her about it. It was always his hope that he could keep her out of that side of things. She didn't need that darkness dimming her light.

"Tommy?" she softly prodded him, hoping for an answer.

"I do what I need to do to get things done, (Y/N)," he finally answered her, his voice flat.

His response didn't give much up front, but she was able to read between the lines of it. She exhaled a breath as his eyes met hers once more. "What happened to being honest with the business?"

"When has bein' honest gotten us anything, eh?" he asked her, his one eyebrow quirked in an inquisitorial manner.

(Y/N) sighed, unable to stop the corner of her lips from raising as she looked away for a moment and exhaled a laugh. She let out a sigh then, bringing her hand up to run it across her face. She truly didn't know what to think now.

"Are you upset?" Tommy's question broke the silence this time.

"Yes..." she paused, looking at him again, "but not at you," she made sure to clarify.

Tommy pulled a face in response to her statement, one that asked for her to continue.

"I'm upset that people feel the need to comment on my relationship with you, and that they..." she paused, dropping eye contact as she turned away from him, not wanting him to see how their words still affected her. She took a deep breath before continuing, "that they see me as too much of a fool to be with you."

She couldn't help but laugh at herself as she finished her statement. Maybe you are a fool because you don't know what he really does, she thought to herself. She thought she’d know everything about someone she’d been with for just about six years now. Hell she helped Polly keep the betting shop afloat while the boys were off fighting in France. She knew how things worked in the business. But these whispers started sometime after they returned. With the start of 1919 came (Y/N)'s wondering of why so many people were suddenly interested in the life of Tommy Shelby.

"Hey," Tommy stepped towards her, reaching out and taking hold of her left arm so that he could gently turn her back to face him. Doing so effectively brought her out of her thoughts and made her focus on him again. "Fuck what they have to say," he told her, a devilish grin forming on his lips as he attempted to lighten the mood.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened upon hearing his statement, and she brought her hands up to softly smack his shoulders. "Tommy!" she gasped, her mouth still gaped slightly in surprise. Could that really be his response?, she questioned herself before voicing her disbelief, "I can't believe that's your response," she said while laughing slightly.

"What they say doesn't matter, love," he told her, snaking his arms around her waist so that he could pull her closer to him.

"But still..."

"But nothing," he cut her off, his eyebrows raised. (Y/N) sighed and let her hands rest on his shoulders. The feeling of his suit jacket's material beneath her fingertips made her relax. Tommy truly felt like home to her. Just being in his arms for these mere seconds was making her feel better. "You and me...we're ok, right?" he asked her then, his voice soft as he waited intently for her answer. She was able to feel his gaze on her, but she kept her eyes fixed on his collar, her fingers running against the lapels of his jacket. "Right?" he asked again when he didn't receive a response, pressing his fingers against her sides as he pulled her slightly closer to him.

His actions made her let out a surprised giggle as their heads touched, and it also made her look at him once more. "We're ok," she affirmed, a smile now present on her lips as she continued playing with his lapels, "I just want you to stay safe."

"Always," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips as he assured her.

"And you'll let me in?" her voice was softer now as she looked at him through her eyelashes.

"I will," he whispered, his eyes flitting down to her lips.

"Good, because I need to have something to tell the women who just can't keep their thoughts to themselves," she stated, placing her hands on his cheeks so that she could raise his eyes to meet hers again. She knew what he was thinking of doing.

"(Y/N), fuck..."

"What they say, I know," she finished his sentence for him, smiling as he exhaled a laugh, "maybe..." she trailed off, a bit of a mischievous smile playing on her lips, "maybe I'll just tell them how good this is..."

"What's that?" was all Tommy was able to get out before (Y/N) closed the space and pressed her lips to his.

And if she did tell the whisperers about that, she'd indeed have them wondering.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[planetmosh]

Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls - Show 2694, review Leeds O2 academy, 2 October

Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls – Show 2694, review Leeds O2 academy, 2 October

Following the release of his number one album FTHC, (that’s Frank Turner Hard Core), in case you were wondering. Frank Turner and The Sleeping Souls return to Leeds for their 40th show or show 2694 for the number of shows they have played to this date. It’s great that Frank Turner and his band have decided to play more than one show in Yorkshire, with Leeds being the second after Sheffield last…

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #2694

"If I didn't need you, I'd kill you. Do you understand that?"

She laughed until she saw that a smile did not cross his face. "Wait. You don't really mean that, do you?"

[pupgrandma2]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: XL CLASSIC T .

[mrs-dr-reid]

Show Me How Sorry

A Wolverine Fic

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader makes Logan prove how sorry he is after an argument

Genre: A teensy bit angsty, then pure filth. I don’t make the rules, bub

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (I mean it), Swearing, insecurity, crying, unprotected p in v (DON’T BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY), oral (fem receiving), fingering, choking kinda(?), a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine (aka size kink), groveling (*cackling intensifies*), breeding kink if you squint, kinda subby Logan/kinda dom reader but for plot reasons

A/N: You’re welcome. Also, ayyyyyy, first published work of smut! Big thanks to @snixkers for being my beta reader and editor, as well as @foxy-eva and @imagining-in-the-margins for being my human thesauruses.

Word Count: 2694

———————————————————————

Y/N had to hand it to Charles: the roof of X-Mansion was one of the best stewing places she’s ever come across. Throughout her life, she’d found herself in plenty of spots that were ample for sitting and seething about a bad day or a petty argument: fire escapes, tree houses, a water tower that one time, but none were as effective as crawling out of the window of her room at the mansion and sitting on top of the dormer with her knees pulled up to her chest. Which is what she was doing now, all because of Logan.

This particular fight was a long time coming. Ever since they’d started dating, little things had been piling up and slowly reaching a tipping point, leading to the idea that Logan didn’t think Y/N was capable of handling herself. She confronted him about it, and the resulting screaming match culminated in Logan slamming the door and Y/N retreating to the roof, where she had been staying for nearly two hours.

She was watching the sun sink below the treeline when she heard her window open and a familiar gruff voice. “Y’know, one of these days you’re gonna fall off the roof.” Logan crawled out of the window and fixed her with a disapproving stare. Y/N avoided eye contact and ground out, “For your information, Hard Ass, I’ve been doing this since before my mutation manifested, and I never fell off of anything once. And in case you forgot, I can fly, so even if I did, I’d be fine,” hugging her knees tighter.

Logan let out a sigh and said, “Can we talk? Please?”

She turned her head away. “Unless the next thing that comes out of your mouth is an apology, I don’t want to talk to you right now.” A groan escaped him, then she heard him say, “Okay, I’m sorry. Will you get off the roof now?”

The last embers of anger Y/N had left in her belly stoked back up into a raging fire at him reacting to her wanting an apology like it was some great inconvenience, and the idea that he was only saying it to get her to come back inside.

She whipped her head back towards him and snapped, “Sorry for what, Logan? Do you know why I’m upset with you, or are you just handing over a baseless apology hoping I’ll forgive you just like that?”

A look of surprise crossed Logan’s face at her tone. He thought for a moment, then said, “I think I know, but I want you to tell me anyway because I want to understand.”

His tone was even and measured like he was extending an olive branch, so Y/N nodded and let her legs hang off the dormer as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

“When I joined the X-Men, I thought I was finally done with people overlooking me, underestimating me, belittling me. I thought I’d finally found a group of people who would support me and let me handle things on my own. You’re the only one who doesn’t do that, and I can’t take it anymore, Logan. Do you have any idea what it feels like when the people you love actively show how much they don’t think you’re capable of? I have power now. I can make a huge difference in the world, and in the lives of the students, but hearing someone I love say in not so many words that I can’t handle something? It hurts.”

Logan was silent for a moment, then he carefully made his way onto the dormer. He sat beside Y/N, tilting her chin up so she’d look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry for makin’ you feel that way. You’re one of the most capable people I know, and I’m sorry for underestimatin’ you. I just don’t wanna see you get hurt if you take on more than you can bear on your own. You’re my best girl, and I wanna keep you safe, okay?”, he asked, wiping away the tear stains on Y/N’s cheeks.

She nodded, then said, “Thank you for the apology, and for explaining yourself.”

Logan smiled and said, “Anytime, Darlin’,” before kissing her forehead.

After a moment of silence only broken by the rustling of the wind and birds chirping, Y/N said, “I’m still mad at you though, Howlett, and words aren’t gonna cut it.”

Logan quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then what did you have in mind?”

She leaned in and whispered, “You’re gonna show me just how sorry you really are,” before sliding off the dormer and crawling back through her window. Logan watched, letting out a lustful groan as she did so.

Once he’d managed to get back through the window, his Adam’s apple bobbed at the sight of Y/N sitting on the end of her bed with her denim-clad legs spread and her flannel shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a black lace bra underneath. She raised an eyebrow suggestively and said, “Get to work, Big Boy. You know where I want you.”

His eyes darkened before he husked, “Yes, ma’am,” and dropped to his knees in front of her.

Y/N unbuttoned her flannel the rest of the way and let it slip off her shoulders as Logan pressed open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, and she let out a breathy sigh of his name, weaving her fingers into his hair, when his lips started traveling lower and his hands came up to fiddle with the button of her skinny jeans.

She breathed out, “Go on, Tough Guy,” so Logan popped the button and started sliding her skinny jeans down her legs, cursing under his breath as it happened slower than he would have liked.

He grunted out, “Hate it when you wear these pants, Darlin’. Takes fuckin’ forever to get ‘em offa you.”

“I know. I only wear them when I want to make you work for it.” She unhooked her bra and sent it flying towards her hamper, earning her a groan from the man kneeling between her legs as he finally managed to rid her of the dreaded jeans. Y/N crooked her finger at him, so he obliged instantly, kissing his way from her clavicle to her inner thighs, nipping at her skin and soothing the bites with his tongue along the way in his efforts to coax his favorite noises from her.

Y/N let out a tiny gasp when she felt Logan’s breath on her clothed center, and gripped his hair tighter before he could do anything else. She made him look at her before she said, “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Logan?”

Logan ran his hands up and down her legs and said, “I’m sorry for hurting you, Sweetheart. I was being an asshole, and I’m so sorry. You smell so fuckin’ good, Baby. Can I show you how sorry I am now?”, while hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her black lace panties and looking up at her with pleading eyes. Y/N pretended to think for a moment, then loosened her grip on his hair and said, “Go ahead, Bubba.”

He groaned in thanks before sliding the soaked fabric down her legs and tossing them over his shoulder.

Logan took a moment to breathe in her scent, but when Y/N’s nails scratched at his scalp, he took the hint and draped her legs over his shoulders before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her core. He let out a guttural moan when Y/N whispered, “Good boy,” and tightened her grip on his hair like she was trying to bury him in her pussy (not that he would have complained). He continued lapping at her like he was on death row and she was his last meal, relishing in the sounds he was drawing out of her. When Y/N was least expecting it, Logan added two fingers into the mix, which made her whine his name and dig her heels into his back.

He continued his ministrations, and Y/N felt the familiar knot in her belly tighten. “I’m so close, Lo. Always make me feel so good, Bubba.”

Logan let out an honest-to-god growl against her as he spread her legs even wider and sucked on her clit. Her orgasm crashed over her, and she let out a breathless moan of Logan’s name as if it was the only word she knew. He whispered soothing words against her as she came down from her high.

Once Y/N had caught her breath, she said, “You’re still wearing a lot of clothes there, Wolvie,” and fiddled with the collar of his leather jacket.

Logan shot her a look. “Still not satisfied with my apology, Princess?”

She sat up to gather the front of his tank top in her grasp, then pulled him onto the bed. “No, that was a perfectly adequate apology. I just need to remind you what happens when you hurt my feelings," before flipping them over so she was straddling him.

Logan’s eyes blew wide with lust, and he shed his jacket as quickly as he could while Y/N undid his belt and jeans. He went to put his hands on her hips, but she held his hands down at his sides. “Uh-uh. Touching is a privilege, Big Boy. You haven’t earned it back yet,” before ridding him of his pants and tank top. She kept his boxers on, and she rested all of her weight on his throbbing erection before sitting back on her heels and surveying him. She tilted her head to the side, a seductive smirk on her face as she shifted her hips ever so slightly so he could feel her desire pooling against him.

Logan dropped his head onto the pillow behind him and groaned, “Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me,”

Y/N leaned closer and whispered, “Quite a feat considering you’re effectively immortal,” before attaching her lips to his pulse point and running her hands down his broad chest, earning a guttural moan from the man beneath her. She snuck her hand into his boxers and stroked his length with her index finger a few times.

The whole time she was teasing him, Logan was gripping the sheets as hard as he could to keep his hands to himself.

Y/N withdrew her hand from Logan’s boxers. “You’ve been so good, Bubba. Have you learned your lesson?” She asked, toying with the waistband as he let out a strained, “Yes, ma’am.”

She replied, “Good,” then lifted herself off of him briefly to drag the final barrier between them down his legs and discard it. She lined herself up, then said, “Touch me, Lo. You’ve earned it,” before sinking down on his cock.

His hands flew up to grip her hips the second he was permitted while letting out a euphoric moan.

Y/N let out a whimper of, “So big, Honey. You fill me up so good. Fuck!”, and gripped Logan’s shoulders before starting to move above him.

He grunted out, “Love making you feel good, Sugar. Love how your tight little pussy squeezes me so perfect,” as he gripped her hips so tight she was sure there’d be bruises in the morning.

Y/N’s hands moved up to Logan’s neck, and she coaxed him into an upright position before pressing her lips to his in a breathless kiss, accidentally applying too much pressure on his throat as she got lost in his lips.

Logan gasped out, “Fuck, Baby!”, against her lips, which made Y/N realize her mistake.

“Sorry. Too much?” She began to remove her hands from his neck, but Logan reached up and grabbed one of her wrists to stop her and looked her in the eyes before husking, “Just the opposite, Baby Doll,” earning a delirious moan from Y/N. She tightened her grip slightly and continued rolling her hips in tandem with Logan’s thrusts. Many moments passed where the only sounds to be heard were the rustling of sheets, two pairs of lips moving in feverish tandem, and skin against skin, with the occasional breathless moan from Y/N or grunt from Logan.

Y/N felt the knot tightening again, and she could tell by the stuttering of Logan’s hips that he wasn’t too far behind.

“So good, Lo! Gonna make me cum!” She buried her hands in his hair once again to tug at the strands desperately.

He grunted back, “I’m close, too, Darlin’. Wanna cum inside you so bad, please, Baby?”, and attached his lips to her cleavage. Y/N let out a whimper before regaining what little composure she had left to whisper in Logan’s ear, “Fill me up like a good boy, Bubba."

That sent him over the edge.

He started driving his hips up into her like a man possessed. Y/N cried out his name as her climax barreled into her like a freight train, the spasms of her velvety walls bringing him right along with her.

“Fuck, Darlin!” He shouted as he grasped her tight. Y/N collapsed against him with a gasp as the final pulses of her pleasure faded away, and Logan continued rocking into her until he was completely spent, his large hands running up and down her back comfortingly.

Once they’d both come down from their respective highs, Y/N pressed her forehead against Logan’s and whispered, “I love you."

He nuzzled his nose against hers and whispered back, “Not as much as I love you, Darlin’,” before kissing her gently.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a few moments of blissful silence, then Logan broke it by saying, “Am I forgiven now?”

Y/N giggled and buried her face in the crook of his neck before saying, “Can I get back to you in three to five business days? My brain is kinda mushy right now.”

Logan let out a snort. “Yeah, I can work with that." He pressed a kiss to her temple, then carefully pulled out of her to go get a warm cloth from the bathroom. Y/N rolled over to watch him go, and she silently thanked whatever deity sculpted his perfect ass and sent him her way before he came back and cleaned up the mess they made together, peppering kisses on her stomach and thighs as he did so.

Once he’d finished, he fished his boxers out of the haphazard pile of clothing that hadn’t exactly made it into the hamper, pulling them on before grabbing a Pink Floyd shirt (that he was well aware was stolen from him by her) and a pair of boy shorts from their respective drawers in her dresser. He handed them to her as he crawled back onto the bed.

Y/N tugged the well-loved cotton over her head and slid into the undergarments before beckoning Logan under the covers (which he happily obliged to), and let out a content sigh when he wrapped his strong arms around her and murmured, “Sweet Dreams, Baby,”

She was happy they were able to resolve their problem, albeit through slightly less conventional means.

———————————————————————

MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[guilty-ff]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭: 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

Summery: Y/n’s world is turned upside down when she is diagnosed with cancer, leaving her to confront the darkest fears of her life. With Wade Wilson by her side, their bond deepens as they navigate the struggle between despair and hope.

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x (cancer!fem)Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: swearing, mental health, cancer

Word count: 2694

The idea of writing this One Shot was a suggestion from a cancer survivor, and it is dedicated to them. Wishing you all the best. 🫶

The day the doctor said the word "cancer," Y/n's world felt like it was collapsing around her. The sterile office, the birght lights overhead, and the sympathetic look in the doctor's eyes all blurred into a foggy haze. She barely heard the rest of the conversation, her mind stuck on that single word, echoing over and over.

Cancer.

She knew she had to tell Wade, but how? How do you tell the love of your life that the same disease that had torn him apart was now threatening to do the same to you?

She stumbled out of the doctor's office in a daze, clutching the diagnosis papers like they were a death sentence. How could this be happening? How could her life take such a cruel twist?

By the time she got home, her hands were shaking. The apartment was too quiet, too empty. Wade was not home yet, and she was glad for it- she needed time to process this, to figure out how she was going to tell him.

But, as usual, Wade had impeccable timing.

The door burst open, and in walked the love of her life, Wade Wilson. He was in full costume, as usual, but even with the mask on, Y/n could sense something different about him today. Maybe it was the way he moved, a little less swagger in his step, or the way he did not immediately launch into some ridiculous story.

"Hey, sugar tits," he called out, his voice humorous but mixed with something she could not quite figure out. "Guess who just gave the bad guys a five-finger discount on their lives?"

Y/n managed a weak smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "You always know how to brighten up a room, Wade."

"Damn straight," he replied, finally noticing the tension in her voice. "Uh-oh. That tone. What's wrong, babe? You sound like someone kicked your puppy and didn't even leave a note."

She could not meet his eyes. How could she? How could she tell him the very thing that had nearly killed him was now inside of her, too?

"Wade..." Her voice cracked, and she hated how fragile she sounded. "I... I went to the doctor today."

He stiffened, the air in the room growing heavy with unspoken fears. "And?"

"They said... they said I have cancer."

The silence that followed was deafening. Wade stared at her, his mask hiding his expression, but she could feel the shock radiating off him. Then, slowly, he pulled off his mask, revealing the scarred, yet still incredibly expressive face beneath.

"Y/n," he said, his voice rough. "Are you... are you sure? Like, actual cancer? The C-word?"

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sure."

For a long moment, Wade just stood there, his gaze locked on hers. Then, to her surprise, he crossed the room in two quick strides and pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her as if she might disappear at any moment.

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from crying. Wade immediately dropped to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his gloved ones. "Nope, nuh-uh, not happening. We already did this dance once, and it sucked, remember? So, here's the plan: we're going to kick cancer's ass together, and then we're going out for tacos. Sound good?"

Y/n could not help but smile through her tears. "You make it sound so easy."

"Because it is," he said, with that trademark Deadpool confidence. "You're the toughest chick I know, and I'm... well, I'm Wade Wilson, so we're basically unstoppable. Cancer doesn't stand a chance."

Y/n clung to him, letting the tears fall freely now. "But what if... what if I don't?"

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands cradling her face. "You will. Because you're strong, and because you've got me. And I don't lose, baby. Ever."

She could not help but let out a watery laugh. Trust Wade to make her smile even in a moment like this. "You're a cocky bastard, you know that?"

"And you love me for it." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now, we're going to fight this together. You're not alone, Y/n. Not ever."

Y/n hadn't spoken much that night. The treatments had taken a toll on her, and Wade could see the exhaustion in her eyes, even as she tried to keep a brave face. He hated seeing her like this, so drained and defeated. But more than that, he hated that there was not a single thing he could do to take the pain away.

Wade lay beside her, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on her pale face. The shadows cast by the city lights danced across his features, softening the harsh lines of his scarred skin. He watched her, his heart aching with a mix of helplessness and determination. He wasn't used to feeling powerless—he was Deadpool, after all, the guy who could take on anything and come out the other side with a snarky comment and a grin. But this... this was different.

"Hey, you still with me?" Wade's voice was soft, barely above a whisper as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered against her skin, warm and comforting.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a small, tired smile. "Barely," she mumbled, her voice weak but laced with affection.

"Good," Wade replied, forcing a grin onto his face. "Because I'm not done annoying you yet. You know how it is—'til death do us part and all that jazz. And even then, I'll probably just haunt you, so really, there's no escaping me."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N's lips, though it quickly turned into a cough. Wade's grin faded slightly as he scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into his chest. He felt her relax against him, her head resting on his shoulder, and he held her tight, as if he could shield her from the world.

"You know," Wade began, his voice low and soothing, "I've been thinking... I mean, I know that's dangerous and all, but just go with it. Remember when I first found out about my cancer? I was scared shitless, thought my life was over. But then I met you, and suddenly, the idea of sticking around didn't seem so bad anymore."

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The days that followed were a blur of doctor's appointments, treatment plans, and long, sleepless nights. But through it all, Wade was there. He was at every appointment, holding her hand, making crude jokes to lighten the mood, and telling the doctors exactly where they could shove their needles if they so much as looked at Y/n the wrong way. He kept the mood light, refusing to let the dark cloud of cancer take away their laughter.

When the treatments started, and the side effects hit hard, Wade was there too. He stayed by her side when the nausea was too much to bear, when she was too weak to get out of bed, when the fear and pain became overwhelming. He held her through the tears, through the anger, through the darkest moments when she did not think she could go on.

One day, as Y/n was sitting in a hospital chair, hooked up to an IV, Wade leaned over, his face just inches from hers. "You know, if I had known you'd be spending so much time in bed, I would have gotten one of those fluffy pillows with my face on it. You know, for comfort."

Y/n rolled her eyes, a small smile across her lips. "I'm pretty sure they'd kick you out of the hospital for bringing that in."

"Oh, I see how it is," Wade teased, pretending to be offended. "Here I am, being all supportive, and you're rejecting my face pillow idea? I'm wounded, Y/n. Deeply wounded."

She chuckled, the sound weak but genuine. "I love you, you idiot."

"I know," Wade said, grinning as he kissed the top of her head. "And that's why I'm here, annoying the crap out of you, until you're cancer-free and we can go back to our regularly scheduled programming of bad guys and bad decisions."

But Wade never wavered. He was her rock, her anchor in the storm. He understood what she was going through in a way no one else could. He knew the fear, the anger, the helplessness that came with a cancer diagnosis. And he fought it with her every step of the way.

But not every day was full of jokes and smiles. There were times when the treatments left Y/n too weak to even laugh at Wade's antics. On those days, they would lay in bed together, Y/n curled up against his chest. Wade spoke softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that was reserved only for her. 

"You know," he began, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her back, "when I found out I had cancer, I thought it was the end. I thought my life was over. But then I became Deadpool, and well... let's just say, shit got weird."

She laughed softly, her head resting against his shoulder. "That's one way to put it."

"But you..." He paused, searching for the right words. "You're different, Y/N. You're not just fighting for yourself. You're fighting for us. And I'm going to be here, every step of the way, making sure you kick this thing's ass."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "I couldn't do this without you, Wade."

He grinned, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. "Damn right you couldn't. I'm your secret weapon, babe. Cancer doesn't stand a chance."

"Hey," he said "you know how I'm basically invincible, right? Like, I've been blown up, shot, stabbed, and I'm still kicking?"

"Mm-hmm," Y/N mumbled, her eyes half-closed.

"Well, I'm basically like a really ugly cheerleader. I'll keep cheering you on until this cancer thing gets bored and leaves you alone. And then we'll go get ice cream. Or, you know, find some bad guys to punch. Whatever you're in the mood for."

Y/n closed her eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. It was comforting, grounding her in the moment, reminding her that she was not alone. Wade's words were like a lifeline, pulling her back from the edge of despair.

"I know you're scared," he continued, his voice softening. "Hell, I'm scared too. But you've got something I didn't have back then- you've got me. And I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're in this together, and I'm not letting you face this alone."

Y/n's hand found his, their fingers intertwining. "I don't want to be weak, Wade. I don't want you to see me like this."

"Hey, hey," Wade said, gently squeezing her hand. "There's nothing weak about you, Y/n. You're the strongest person I know, and trust me, I've met some tough bastards in my time. You're allowed to be scared, and you're allowed to have shitty days. But don't for a second think that makes you weak. You're fighting a goddamn war here, and you're doing it like a champ."

Tears welled up in Y/n's eyes, but she blinked them away, burying her face in Wade's chest. "I'm so tired, Wade," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't know if I can keep doing this."

Wade's heart broke at the raw vulnerability in her voice, but he refused to let her see his pain. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there as he spoke. "You can, and you will," he murmured, his voice firm but tender. "Because you're Y/n, and you don't back down from a fight. And when you feel like you can't go on, you just lean on me, okay? I'll carry you if I have to."

For a long moment, they lay there in silence, the weight of Wade's words settling over them. Y/n could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body pressed against hers, and it gave her a sense of comfort she hadn't felt in days. With Wade beside her, the darkness didn't seem quite as overwhelming.

"Wade?" she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Thank you... for being here. For... for everything."

Wade smiled, even though she couldn't see it. "You don't have to thank me, Y/n. This is what love's all about, right? Sticking around through the good, the bad, and the 'oh shit, we're out of toilet paper' moments."

Y/n chuckled softly, the sound muffled against his chest. "You really know how to ruin a moment, don't you?"

"It's a gift," Wade replied, grinning as he held her a little tighter. "But seriously, Y/n... I love you. And I'm not going to let you go through this alone. Not now, not ever."

"I love you too, Wade," Y/n whispered, her heart swelling with a mixture of love and gratitude.

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, with Wade occasionally cracking jokes to make her smile. And as the night wore on, Y/n slowly drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and loved in his arms.

Wade stayed awake, watching over her, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But one thing was clear: he wasn't going to let cancer take her away from him. He would fight it with her every step of the way, and they would come out on the other side stronger than ever.

Y/n snuggled closer, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. 

As the months passed, Y/n's strength began to return. The treatments were working, and slowly but surely, she started to feel like herself again. Wade was there to celebrate every small victory, every piece of good news. He was her biggest cheerleader, always ready with a joke or a sarcastic comment to keep her spirits up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day came when the doctor delivered the news they had been praying for.

"Y/n, your scans are clear. There's no sign of the cancer."

She could hardly believe it. Tears welled up in her eyes as the weight of those words settled over her. She was going to be okay.

Wade let out a whoop of joy, scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around the room, much to the dismay of the startled doctor. "I knew it! I fucking knew it! You're a goddamn superhero, Y/n!"

She laughed through her tears, clutching him tightly as he held her. "We did it, Wade. We really did it."

He set her down, cupping her face in his hands as he looked into her eyes, his own brimming with tears. "I knew you could. You're the strongest person I know, Y/n. And I'm so fucking proud of you."

They kissed then, a kiss filled with love, relief, and the unbreakable bond they had forged through their shared struggle. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They had faced the darkness together and come out the other side, stronger than ever.

As they left the doctor's office hand in hand, Wade turned to her with a grin. "So, how about we celebrate by doing something completely reckless and dangerous?"

She raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Like what?"

He smirked, that familiar glint back in his eyes. "I'm thinking chimichangas, a bottle of tequila. You know, the usual."

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in months. "That sounds perfect."

And as they walked off into the sunset, ready to take on whatever life threw their way, Y/n knew that with Wade by her side, she could face anything.

In sickness and in health, they were unstoppable.

[miumura]

HIS EXPECTED FATE — JUNGWON FF

“ one day, i will stop falling in love with you. ”

PART TWO OF (Y)OUR EXPECTED FATE. ( READ FIRST ? )

SYNOPSIS Jungwon was going to try to move on—he had promised you. But, with his new career choice, he found himself writing books about his past lifetimes with you. As he convinced himself it would help as he could finally “let go”, you just had to come stumbling into his life again…after all, promises are sometimes meant to be broken.

( 🗝️ ) THE PAIRING author!jungwon x fem!reader

𓍼 WARNINGS character death, mentions of injuries (blood), use of petnames (my love + dearest), profanity (barely)

⌞ + ⌝ GENRE doomed immortal x mortal, angst, fluff-ish?

♡⸝⸝ WORD COUNT — 2.6K+ ( 2694 WORDS )

AUTHOR’S NOTE FINALLY part two is here !! i just loved part one too much so i had to let it get its moment one more time ( yes , we have favs around here !! ) writer jungwon is to DIE FOR and ugh, i just might write a long fic based on that idea SOLELY for my own satisfaction so yeah the wheels r turning in my head as we speak 🤍 but i hope you enjoy ^^

Jungwon should’ve known.

Each step echoes in the hollow corridors of his mind, a haunting reminder of the cruel cycle of fate. Your fragile form lies before him, a mere whisper of the vibrant soul he once knew. "YN!" he cries out, his voice choking with anguish as he gathers you into his trembling embrace.

With his eyes blurred with tears, he notices how you looked up at him, life escaping from you within the minutes, or even seconds you had left.

Through tear-streaked eyes, he watches as your gaze meets his, a bittersweet reflection of love and loss. "Jungwon..." your voice is but a fragile whisper, fading like a distant echo.

“Why are you still smiling?” His voice trembled, his fingers caressing the side of your face as if he was trying to remember every detail about you into his memory.

How could you still smile so beautifully during your final moments?

Searching into your eyes for answers, he notices you trying to speak to him. Yet, instead of words, trickles of blood start escaping your lips, only intensifying the moment. “Take your time, YN…” His voice quivers as he tenderly brushes away the blood that mars your once radiant face.

Looking at your current state, he knew time was no longer a factor. Still, those words spill from his lips, a feeble attempt to offer comfort to both you and himself.

"I'm always here for you, remember?"

"I'm sorry," you murmur, your voice barely audible above the relentless march of time.

As the weight of your apology hangs heavy in the air, Jungwon's heart clenches with a mixture of sorrow and regret. "There's nothing to apologize for," he whispers, his voice barely audible amidst the suffocating silence of impending loss. “I should’ve done more.”

"You've done what you could. I was the stubborn one," you reassure him, your words a soothing balm to his troubled soul.

"I still could've tried harder," he persists, unable to shake the burden of guilt that weighs heavily upon him.

"Stop blaming yourself, my dearest," your pet name pierces through his turmoil, a reminder of the depth of your connection.

How many more times would he hear it before you slipped away?

“Listen, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything you ask, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, my love.”

“Pursue in something else in your life. Something that isn’t me.”

"How?" Jungwon's tone is laced with uncertainty, his mind grappling with the thought of creating a new path without you by his side. He’d always believed that you were the person he needed to have to live peacefully. But, the more he thought about it, the more he had led himself to the most painful goodbyes he’d forever remember.

"I know you can do it. You've spent so much time searching for me, knowing that I won't remember a single thing about our past lives—isn't that right?" Your words striked something within him, a painful reminder of the futility of clinging to pasts that can never be reclaimed.

"Try to change your fate," you urge, your voice tinged with hope.

"I can't see a life without you—even if you're in different bodies, or lives—I need you," Jungwon confesses, his desperation laid bare for you to see.

"You're..." you cough out, a sudden wave of panic flooding through him. "You're only going to keep hurting yourself."

“But—”

"Jungwon. Please," you implore, your voice barely above a whisper yet filled with unwavering determination.

"Okay," Jungwon concedes, his resolve crumbling in the face of your earnest plea.

"Promise me," you insist, your hand trembling as you extend your pinky towards him, a silent vow of mutual understanding and commitment. Despite your weakened state, your arm strains to support your hand as it reaches out to him.

Jungwon clears his throat, his own hand trembling as he interlocks his pinky with yours. A fleeting smile graces your lips, a final testament to the love that binds your souls together.

"I love you, my dearest," you whisper, your words a tender farewell as the grip of your hand on his begins to loosen.

Tears stream down Jungwon's cheeks uncontrollably as he watches you slip away, the echoes of your parting words resonating within his shattered heart. No matter the amount of lifetimes he has gone through, he could never get familiar with the pain he’d experience when losing you.

The only thing that was different was the thought of him finally wanting to take your advice seriously. After all, he did make one last promise with you.

“I love you too, my love.” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion as he finally surrenders to the overwhelming tide of grief.

“I’ll try my best.”

Sinking into his chair, Jungwon's gaze drifts across the scattered stacks of notebooks adorning his desk. With a flick of his wrist, he switches on the desk lamp, its soft glow casting a comforting aura over the room as he reaches for the nearest notebook within arm's reach.

With pen in hand, he begins to jot down the fragments of ideas swirling in his mind. As the words flow effortlessly onto the paper, he can almost feel the weight of his burdens lifting, if only for a fleeting moment.

Dropping the pen onto the desk, Jungwon stretches his cramped fingers with a small groan, the fatigue of sleepless nights finally catching up to him. Adjusting his posture, he straightens his back and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the lenses reflecting words he had written in such a short amount of time.

Writing the last sentence, Jungwon closes the notebook with a sense of accomplishment, a faint smile gracing his lips as he flips through the pages one last time before setting it aside. It was one of the fifth notebooks he had put aside for this book—one of the books he’d spent so much of his time in because you had told him to follow his dreams.

So, he took it to heart, and he seriously never thought he’d be so committed until he finally managed to publish a couple of books of his own.

Finding himself in one of the bookstores, he found himself staring at one of the copies he had made. The countless hours spent hunched over his desk, the sleepless nights fueled by caffeine, and sheer determination had finally paid off.

Stepping closer to the display of his book, Jungwon feels a surge of pride swell within him as he runs his fingers over the glossy cover.

This couldn’t have been possible if it weren’t for your words.

Just as Jungwon is about to place the copy back onto the shelf, a voice startles him from his reverie. "Oh, you like that author too?" The sound of the voice breaks through the silence of the bookstore, drawing his attention to the person standing beside him—a cheerful stranger whose presence catches him off guard.

As he recovers from the sudden startlement, Jungwon's shock only intensifies when he realizes who is standing before him.

It's you.

You've been reincarnated, your familiar presence sending a shiver down his spine.

Quickly averting his gaze, Jungwon feigns casual indifference as he shifts his attention back to the shelves. "I was just curious, that's all," he replies with a slight nod, his heart pounding with a mixture of disbelief and longing.

Though he knows that you cannot possibly remember the countless lifetimes you've shared, the mere sight of you was overwhelming him. It was as if you knew, and you were simply mocking him for his misery.

“Oh, cool.” It would’ve been cool if he didn’t happen to bump into you now, especially since he tried his absolute hardest to not go out looking for you again. But, fate seemed to have their plans, and brought you to him like it was nothing.

“I didn’t know they released a new book—did you?”

“I’ve heard about it, that’s why I went to check it out.” he continues, his gaze fixed on the books before him as he struggles to maintain his composure. Despite the casual tone of the conversation, every fiber of his being longs to reach out to you, to hold you close and never let go. But he knows that such desires are futile, destined to remain unfulfilled in the cruel dance of fate.

He can’t fall for you again.

“Mind telling me what you heard about it? I’m quite curious as well,” Jungwon's heart races as you scoot closer to him, his pulse quickening for several reasons. It's been a while since he last saw you, and the sudden proximity is enough to make him feel flustered, a jumble of conflicting emotions swirling within him.

"Well, it's about a knight and a sorcerer," he replies with a bitter smile, carefully masking his true feelings behind a facade of casual indifference. After all, he can't afford to reveal his true identity as the author—not when he's spent so long hiding it from the public, especially for moments like this.

"Is that so?" you hum in response, your curiosity piqued as you peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the book in his hands. Jungwon's shoulders tense up, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected interaction. Should he reveal his secret to you, or continue to play along with the charade?

"It's quite different as the male lead is convincing the female lead to stay with him—oh and I forgot to mention, the female lead is a knight," Jungwon remarked, his enthusiasm evident in his tone.

"Wow, that's kind of badass," Jungwon chuckles, momentarily forgetting his unease in the warmth of your reaction.

"She certainly was," he responds almost instinctively, before catching himself with a slight frown. "...from what I heard, that is," he quickly adds, cursing himself for the slip-up. He can't afford to reveal too much, not when his true identity as the author must remain hidden.

"What do you mean he was trying to convince her to stay though? What happened?" you inquire, effortlessly steering the conversation in a new direction. Jungwon feels a wave of relief wash over him at your gentle redirection, grateful for the sudden change.

"Well, since he's immortal, he had finally figured out a way for her to stay," Jungwon recalls, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "But, she refused. And even with his pestering, nothing could convince her."

"Yikes—this author hates seeing people happy, huh?" you remark sadly, your empathy for the characters noticeable in your tone. "They always manage to write something sad, I feel bad for the characters."

Jungwon chuckles at your words, though there's a hint of sadness underlying his amusement. It's not that he hates seeing people happy; rather, he's grappling with his own memories, desperately trying to come to terms with the past in order to find solace in the present.

"It seems so," he finally manages to say, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him. "But, you know, I haven't read the whole thing. It could have a good ending, who knows," he adds optimistically, though he knows all too well the outcome of that particular fate.

"I like the creativity though, I wouldn't have imagined this," you remark, your admiration for the author's imagination evident in your words. And as Jungwon listens to you speak, he finds himself drawn to the warmth of your presence, fully knowing he shouldn’t be.

He would only hurt himself again.

As silence envelops the room, Jungwon finds himself lost in his thoughts, the weight of his past with you casting a shadow over the present. But then, your voice breaks through the quiet, pulling him back to the present moment.

"I don't blame her though—I would've done the same," you added, your words tinged with understanding and empathy. Jungwon's gaze shifts to you, his heart aching at the familiarity of your smile. It's a bittersweet reminder of the lifetimes they've shared, each one leaving an indelible mark on his soul.

Meeting your gaze, Jungwon is struck by the overwhelming sense of deja vu that washes over him. Your face, so achingly familiar, holds a mirror to his memories—the way your hair falls in gentle waves around your face, the curve of your smile, and the moles that adorned your skin.

Your moles.

As Jungwon's gaze lingers on the moles scattered across your face, he can't help but feel a surge of nostalgia wash over him. Each mole seems to hold a memory, a testament to the countless kisses he had left upon your skin in your previous lives.

The urge to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss each mole floods Jungwon's senses, a longing that was meant to be fulfilled every lifetime. His heart falters, torn between the overwhelming love he feels for you and the bittersweet ache of your shared pasts.

You are just too pretty, he thinks, his breath catching in his throat as he struggles to contain the flood of emotions threatening to consume him. In that moment, you are more than just a familiar face—you are a living, breathing reminder of everything he has ever loved and lost.

He knows no matter how many lifetimes may pass, you will always hold a special place in his heart.

"Why?" Jungwon asks, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation as he searches for answers in your words, hoping they will provide solace for the choice you made to leave him in your past life.

"Living on forever doesn't seem like a good thing. It could get boring, so I would understand the female lead's thoughts. After all, not knowing the outcome of your life could only push you to work harder, no?" you respond, your words carrying a wisdom that resonates deeply within him.

"Even if it meant staying with your lover?" he presses, his heart pounding with anticipation as he awaits your response.

"Even if it meant staying with your lover," you affirm, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes.

Hearing your words stings, but Jungwon finds himself strangely grateful for the insight they provide into your perspective. They were all too familiar, and it was as if you meant to give him that reminder in every life of yours.

Perhaps he had always viewed love through a narrow lens, assuming that staying together for eternity was the ultimate expression of devotion. But now, as he reflects on your words, he realizes that love is as much about understanding and acceptance as it is about passion and commitment.

"I see," he murmurs softly, the words heavy with resignation yet tinged with a newfound sense of understanding. Maybe, just maybe, he should stop chasing after a love that may never be fully realized. "I understand, thank you."

Just as he is about to turn away, ready to take the first steps towards letting go of his past, he feels a tug on his sleeve—a gentle reminder that some bonds are too strong to be easily broken. Turning back to face you, Jungwon is surprised when you hand him a piece of paper. Confusion flickers across his features as he accepts it, watching as you walk away with a smile.

Opening the paper, his eyes widen in surprise as he reads the number scrawled across it.

"You're cute – call me? :)"

The boldness of your gesture catches him off guard, but a warm feeling spreads through him nonetheless.

Chuckling softly to himself, Jungwon realizes just how much he has missed you. Despite the promise he made to himself to let go, he finds himself unable to resist the temptation of reconnecting with you.

After all, you in your previous life never managed to keep your promises either.

With a sigh, Jungwon inputs the number into his phone, a mix of apprehension and excitement coursing through him. Perhaps, he muses, promises aren't always meant to be kept—at least not when they stand in the way of finding happiness and connection with someone he cares about.

Sending the first text, Jungwon felt like this was bound to happen.

As if it was his expected fate.

💬 : 🥸

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