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softxsuki · 10 months

Note

Hiiii I hope you're doing okay! I would like a urgent request with Itadori, Levi and Sanji please? Btw, it's pretty heavy topic, i know it's what your urgent requests are about but still-

The headcanons with a gn!s/o that got new prosthesis legs? (Fluff/comfort please)

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I lost both of my legs at 5 years old because I had a heart tumor and oxygen levels problem and my legs didn't had enough oxygen so I eventually couldn't move them anymore so they amputated them and I got my first pair of new legs at 7 years old, the heart tumor came back at 9, 12 (this one gave me cancer) and 17, right now I'm tumor free (im 19) but I still stay in the hospital all the time since my oxygen level is still low, I've never lived outside the hospital for 14 years, I mostly made friends with everyone at the hospital and I love playing with the youngest patients but it's been really hard on the mind and sometimes I have to get IV because I can't eat because of it, 2 weeks ago I got my new legs and I'm super happy about them, obviously, but it's been a bit hard to adapt to them and for the mind since it's a lot, I can't even look at the scars, I also spend a lot of time in the psychology block to help me cope and get better

So please, can I have headcanons where s/o gets new legs but have a bit of difficulty walking in them and mentally? Thanks! <3

By the way, I love your blog and thank you for these requests, I love your writing and you're amazing!

Itadori, Levi (AOT), and Sanji Support You When You Get New Prosthesis Legs

Pairings: Itadori x Gn!Reader, Levi (AOT) x Gn!Reader, Sanji x Gn!Reader

Warnings: mentions of amputations, prosthetic limbs, mental struggles, health issues

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Post-Type: Headcanons

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: In they comfort you when you struggle to walk in your new prosthesis legs, along with the mental struggles you face

[A/N: Hellooooo <3 Idk if you're new to my blog or not, if you are, then welcome, glad you found me, but if not, then I'm glad to hear from you anyway! Can I just start off by saying how amazing you are? I complain about things in my life so much when I probably have it easier than so many others out there. You're a true fighter and I'm so proud of you for getting through everything you'd faced thus far. I'm so glad you're alive and tumor free in this moment. I pray it remains that way so things get easier for you! As for these headcanons, I did as much research as possible to make this accurate, I'm probably still way off, but I did my best :( I'm still confused on when to use Prosthesis vs Prosthetic, BUT hopefully I did okay. I hope these hc's provide you with some comfort! You asked for fluff so I assumed that meant these were romantic?? Please let me know if that isn't the case, I can always edit everything and make it platonic! Anyway hope you enjoy <3 I'm here if you ever need anything <3]

Itadori:

Itadori was always in the hospital visiting his grandpa after school, so it’s only natural that he eventually met you

He noticed you had two prosthesis legs, which made him curious–that’s how he first approached you

After learning your story and seeing you more often, he eventually fell for you and asked you out, which you hesitated at first. How could a relationship like that work? Did he really like you or was he just feeling pity for you?

Yet it did work out, years after Itadori’s grandpa passed away, he continued to stay by your side through everything, showing you all his love and support

So the day you received your new legs, he was right there with you, glad to see you happy with them, though there was always that hint of frustration and sadness behind your eyes

You had trouble walking in them at first, they were heavy and different from the ones you had before, you knew it would take time to get used to, but struggling to walk was very frustrating on you

Thankfully, Yuuji was always there to help you out

He’d take your hand and slowly walk with you in the hospital hallways, helping you regain your balance whenever you lost your step

“You’re doing great,” he smiles, squeezing your hand

There was never a moment when he wasn’t encouraging you and cheering you on; he knew what you’d been through and what you’re still going through, so the least he could do was bring some positivity and happiness to you whenever he could

On harder days where you were mentally exhausted, he’d continue to be there for you

It was hard for you to look at the scars on your legs, a reminder of the amputation that had happened all those years ago. Wishes of having a different life like all the other people your age, it was tough

“You don’t need to look at them if it’s hard. They’ll always be there and we can’t go back in time, but I love you as you are and you should too, Y/N. You’re a fighter and I’m sure so many of the younger kids in this hospital who are going through similar situations, look up to you. You’re so amazing and I love you so so much. I’m proud of how far you’ve come and how you continue to fight for yourself.”

He knows there isn’t much he can do for you. After all, he didn’t know what it felt like to lose both legs at a young age. He had no clue what it was like to be in a hospital your whole life because of a heart tumor that continued to return and left you with low oxygen levels, he had no idea

But what he did know, was that he wouldn’t let you go through it alone anymore; he stayed by your side years ago when he first met you, and he’d continue to remain there, doing anything and everything in his power to bring you joy and love you to the fullest

“You’ll get the hang of it, don’t worry. I’ll be here for you no matter what,” he says, kissing the back of your hand as you continue to practice walking in your new legs, with Yuuji by your side

Levi:

Levi frequented the medical ward due to all his comrades and friends that passed away or got gravely injured during ventures into the outer walls and later in the areas within the walls that harbored titans

So he was bound to run into you at some point, and when he did, it was when you were playing with the younger kids in the medical ward, you had a bright smile on your face, yet he noticed your prosthesis legs, knowing you’d probably been fighting your own battles

He’d catch himself watching you every now and then whenever he found himself in the medical ward, you were attractive and your spirit also seemed to draw him in, he couldn’t help it

Sometimes he’d even show up at the medical ward when no one he knew was there, he just hoped to catch a glimpse of you

This continued for a while until one day you met eyes with him and he awkwardly looked away, but figured he’d seem a little weird if he just left, so he approached you and made small talk with you

He enjoyed talking to you more than he thought he would and eventually you naturally got closer, leading to being together romantically

It was now the day when you received your new legs and Levi quietly sat in a chair in the corner of your room, watching the doctors set you up in them

Levi is a man of few words, so he just carefully watches their every move, listening to their instruction before they leave to give you some privacy

He stands as you stand to get used to your new legs and hovers by your side, his arms ready to leap out incase you need the extra support

Let’s just say even though he isn’t very verbal with his care for you, he’s super attentive and shows you he cares through his small actions

Frustration is written all over your face as you struggle to get used to them, you felt tired of your situation at times since it was mentally exhausting and Levi understood that well

As a soldier, he’s lost so many comrades and friends along the way, feelings of helplessness and wanting to give up deep inside him; he assumed you felt the same at times in regard to your situation, but he wanted to make sure you knew you had him around if you needed him, you weren’t alone in this

“I know it must be hard dealing with this all the time. Though, you’re braver and stronger than half the soldiers on my team, Y/N. Despite everything that life has thrown your way, you’ve faced it and moved forward, I really admire that…” He says awkwardly, yet in full honestly. He wasn’t used to opening up like this verbally so often…

He’s ready to help in any way he can, and at night when the doctors are gone and the lights go out, he pulls a chair next to your bed, as his hands trace patterns on the skin above where your prosthesis start, leaving gentle kisses to the skin, his eyes shining with love and admiration for you

He loves all of you, even your prostheses and he wouldn’t change you for anything

Levi always makes times for you at the end of the day when training is over and he has nothing else to work on

Drinking tea with you in your room and reading together or listening to you speak is the highlight of his day, you bring a light to him he never had before, and he’d do anything to protect that

Sanji:

Being part of the Strawhats was always a wild ride, but how did you get here?

Luffy and the crew had visited your island and he was instantly amazed by your legs, yet seeing you stuck in a hospital room felt off to him, so he invited you to join the crew to go on all their adventures, giving you the opportunity to see the world that was out there

After all they had a doctor on board, so you were in very capable hands with Chopper who always did his best to care for you

And of course this was how you met Sanji who was drawn in by you the second he saw you

It didn’t take long for him to ask you out repeatedly which you refused several times, until you realized that his feelings for you were actually genuine

Only then did you become a couple and he treats you SO WELL

He treats you like a delicate flower, making you the best foods that are easy to eat, yet still provide you with all the nutrients you need to live (whenever you do have the appetite to eat)

Franky had just finished making your new legs, thanks to Choppers detailed instructions of what you’d need and it was time to try them out and of course Sanji was there with you

“Careful with that, can’t you be more gentle?”

This man is so protective over you, poor Chopper is getting fires of questions thrown at him as well as Franky, as Sanji questions whether this is really the right fit, and if it’ll do you good

He just wants the best for you, especially with these new legs, but once he sees your smile as you try them on, he relaxes a little

You have a hard time walking in them at first, needed to get used to the new shape and weight of them, and being on a rocky ship didn’t exactly help either, but Sanji is right there to help you whenever you need it

I think he’d even be a little too clingy at times; one hand around your waist as his other holds one of your hands…he just doesn’t want you to lose your balance and fall

Sometimes he sees your frustrations and holds you close to him whenever you have mentally draining days where things are just extra difficult for you to face, but at least you know you have his support

“Everything’s going to be okay, my love. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you, but I swear I’ll do what I can to make it easier to bear”

And of course the way he knows to comfort you the most is through his hugs, kisses, and with his cooking of course

Warm soups are probably your favorite, they’re easy to eat and comforting as you sip on them, but he’ll make you your favorite treats as well if you’re ever craving them

Sanji does worry a lot about you, but he’d never let you see it. He just wants you to be happy and healthy, so always seeing you on oxygen in Choppers office pulls at his heart strings, but he’ll put on a brave face for you and give you all his love and attention

If you need anything at all, just tell him and he’ll get it for you, even if it’s just something as simple as wanting to hold his hand…he’d run to you in a second to make it happen <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 08/12/2023

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thehouseofmorningstar34 · 2 months

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BPD TRAIT:

Hello my name is Sara and I make Sim Traits and Aspirations. I wanted to make this trait for a long time now to bring awareness to a mental illness that is misunderstood as much as it’s bashed and romanticized. This trait was made with the utmost care and respect. I did tons of research and I always have first hand experience seeing someone struggle with this on a day to day basis. My partner has BPD and has helped me along the way to make sure I convey BPD in a neutral light however I will like to preface my trait is not here to diagnose anyone and this trait goes into some rather heavy topics I will be linking some resources if you ever feel like you are alone in the fight against your mind you are not!! I don’t know exactly what goes on fully inside of a person's mind with BPD but with the research and accounts from my partner and others first hand experience with BPD,And through doing this trait. I feel like I got a better understanding of what people go through with this mental illness. I hope you guys enjoy this trait.

With Love,

DKitten34

I want this trait to spread awareness and respect the people who have this so I kept it very minimal on the amount of Buff replacements and proxy buffs and a Rare Trait Exclusive.

5 Proxy Buffs

5 Buff Replacements

The Rare Trait Exclusive included with The BPD Trait is that when your Sis is Feeling the following emotions I bumped it up to either 1.5 or 1.1

1.1: Stressed, Uncomfortable, Happy and Angry.

1.5: Sad and Dazed.

People with BPD tend to feel certain emotions a little bit more intensely than “normally” and their emotions can be unpredictable. That's why I heighten the emotional buffs.

So for ages many people don’t get a diagnosis till they are well into their teen years so I wanted to make sure I convey that part accurately.

Teen-Elder.

All my mods are playtested and are up to date with the latest patch:PC:1.105.332.1020/Mac: 1.105.332.1220

📁How to Download📂

Open your file folder folder go to the file named Electronic arts it should be in your documents section of your files. Click it!

Click on the next folder named The Sims 4 after that find your mods folder, that is the folder where you’ll be placing the BPD Trait in.

Grab the BPD trait and drag it into your Mods folder make sure the path of your directory is going as follows ( Your User for you computer > Documents> EA> The Sims 4>Mods). You want to ALWAYS check that before downloading any mod or extracting a Zip file mod into your folder that was a tip btw!

Tip: Make sure to have Game options set to allow CC and Script mods.

Always Delete that thumbcache in the same place of your documents folder containing your sims folder!!

My TOU:

If you decide to download any and use any of my content, please don’t post them on any other sites

Do not put them behind a paywall site.

Please if you want to credit me on any posts, I would like to see what trouble your Sims get into with my content

And Please don’t alter or repackage my files in any way.

Thank you again for joining me on my modding journey and enjoy!!

PLUR And in Plumbob we trust!

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

EA tag DaddysKitten34 (Let's be besties!)

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 screenies #ts4 simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4cc #the sims #the sims community #sims 4 #sims #sims4 custom content

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buns-and-butter · 5 months

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Hiya lovelies !

So this is actually an alt account, a place where I can go completely feral.. My main is @toastyliltoasts41 and I mostly write for a fandom called Foolish Crew (Socksfor1, Fatmemegod, Blazaplays, Tbhonest, Joocie and etc)..

But on this account, I plan to be posting fanfictions about Wilbur Soot, Quackity and whatever really comes to my mind..

Maybe even BBC Merlin, Who knows ? (Mainly since these three fandoms, considering Wilbur and Quackity as one 'mcyt' fandom, are my absolute life)

So, without further ado, lets establish some boundaries.. (Pls dont come after me for this being cringe lmao since I dont have this sorta thing even for my main account lol)

• NSFW accounts, Please dni

As Im still a minor and Im still not comfortable with anything that's not SFW.. Its also kinda creepy to interact with one so, no..

• No racism, homophobia or hate to anyone at all..

It's strictly prohibited and will not be tolerated in any shape or form.. That also includes requests btw

• No creepy or personal questions please

Like the NSFW one but mostly about my personal life.. I write on here to not only express myself but to calm myself down in a way.. And receiving questions about myself, that are clearly not anyones business, is not the way anyone'll have a peaceful time on here, my friend.. Im talking about questions like "What's your IRL name" or "Where do you come from".. It just creeps me out a bit so please refrain from that.. You're always welcome to simply ask about where the boundary-line is, though, I'd be happy to talk about it and anything that doesnt cross it..

Maybe there's more to be added but lets skip to the okay/good parts now..

• Requests

Please I fucking love requests and even the smallest of interactions make me do the Tubbo 'Yipee'..

• Talk to me !

If anything is bothering you at all, you can always (if you're comfortable) talk to me about it.. Whether it was just a bad day or you're in a bad situation in life, you're absolutely welcome with open arms to have a chat..

• FANAAAART

Please, I BEG of you, never be ashamed to show anyone your art.. Im a pretty shit artist myself and I love drawing silly things but just straight out fanart hypes me up to write more about those characters.. It just shows me that these cool fanarts are literally the ones Im writing about so its basically like pride (?)

• Heavy topics ?

Im absolutely fine with violence, gore and dark topics sneaking its way into my fanfics.. Even alcohol is fine to a limit ! (As long as its nothing serious and these above topics are not inflicted gruesome-ly or a bit too much by characters in my story as it'll give the actual characters themselves a bad reputation)

• Pronouns

Im a female myself but I'll mostly use they/them in my stories to make in gender neutral.. Heads up if you wanted to make an amab request, Im genuinely sorry but I wont write in anything other than she/her or they/them pronouns.. Im concerned that I'll end up offending someone since I dont really know much about the community.. So, unless you hint at it or request me to use she/her pronouns, I will only be writing as they/them

Maybe I'll add a bit more when I remember lmao-

Anyway, Here's a bit about who I am and what I'll write about:

My online name is Sophie, although Im thinking about changing it, so you can just adress me as Soph.. I go by she/her and, as I already established before lmao, Im a minor.. My life's burning down to the ashes of hell (lol ik Im dramatic, bear with me) most of the time so I wrote stories, and read other's, as a coping mechanism.. I will most likely not see your dm's/requests for a few hours, or even days, or Ill do the complete opposite and reply to them within minutes lmao.. I still have my own studies to complete so I dont think I'll write requests the very same day, Im not sure myself..

I take almost all requests other than smut..

Angst

Fluff

Romantic

Platonic

AU's

You name it man..

Aaaaaanyway, Here's who I'll write for:

~ C!Wilbur (Every bursona too, I am just infatuated with them)

~ C!Quackity (Yes, absolutely but as long as it doesnt cross any of his boundaries)

~ C!Karl Jacobs

~ C!Ranboo

~ C!Tubbo

[As mentioned above, as long as these are within their boundaries and consent]

and on a different fandom:

~ Merlin (MERLIN MY BELOVED)

~ Arthur Pendragon

~ Lancelot cuz yes (But Im not very motivated to write for him)

~ Maybe some platonic with Morgana (BECAUSE SHE'S NOT EVIL, SCREW YOU DIRECTOR) and Gwen

So this is mostly it for now, Ill update this whenever I remember lol.. Bye bye for now !

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watatsumiis · 1 year

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different anon btw but just out of curiosity (tone clarification: not judgemental just pursuing info in like a bit of an analysis/contemplation/seeking differing opinions way) have you done either of e!'s story quests? and if so was it just confusing, or you didn't like them for some other reason?

(if it's too much effort to elaborate of course no pressure, but id be interested to hear your thoughts! & don't worry about being too harsh, she's my blorbo but i agree the inazuma arc kind of made light of a lot of war stuff and felt a little shallow, and a lot of people i know didn't like her at all bc of that)

~🍓 (signing off with an emoji in case this turns into a conversation later)

Before I go into this, I just wanna say thanks again for approaching this in such a genuine and calm way, I sat and thought about this on and off since I got it and it's kind of made me step back and look at how I consume media (especially in this game) and the kinds of characters that I tend to enjoy.

I have done both of her story quests, but as with a lot of the pacing in the story quests, I found it pretty confusing and hard to follow, with heavy dialogue and exposition that I struggled to retain. I'm sure she as a character is extremely nuanced and interesting, I just struggle to feel anything more than disdain for her after seeing how her actions affected the entirety of Inazuma and the people she was supposed to be protecting.

I'm sure I could be convinced into liking her (as is the case with most characters that I 'dislike') or at least tolerating her, but the way the information was presented to me in canon felt a little ham-fisted, and I struggled to parse it all when it was just kind of tossed at me in a jumbled pile like that.

I think some of the ways this game handles really heavy topics seems to be almost... dismissive, at times. I understand that it's a game that's supposed to be marketed towards a broad audience and there are some concessions that need to be made to keep a smooth gameplay experience. This isn't a knock at the writers at all, just an observation. These huge events seem to happen in canon story and they seem to be dropped soon after apart from a few hints and side mentions, and I wish it was explored more?

Sorry that's kind of offtopic, but going back to the character at hand, there's just something about the rules she enforced and the things she let happen that just... yucks me out a bit. (again this is nothing against anyone who does happen to like her! This is all personal opinion and meant to be very lighthearted) I feel like they're trying to write all the Archons as 'good guys', but with E! it feels ...viscerally wrong, everyone seems to forgive her very quickly and have no hard feelings about what she put her nation through, even if that wasn't what she'd directly intended to do. I think if there had been some kind of main story scene where she really acknowledged the harm she caused and admitted her wrongdoing to her citizens id be a little more ambivalent towards her, but i genuinely cant remember a scene like that (though please correct me if im wrong).

The way her character lines refer to some others, too, kind of icks me out. Especially when it comes to Kokomi, who she still seems to be intending to discipline in some manner, and acts as if allowing the people of Watatsumi Island to worship their god is some gracious and generous act of kindness that she's doing as opposed to the basic human right of believing what you want - something about that especially sits pretty badly with me.

#asks #general barks #general howls #im so sorry for the ramble i just have Many Thoughts aha #thank you for initiating this discussion though /gen id love to hear more if you have stuff to say (including your reasons for liking her!)#🍓 anon #i think theres just something a little odd about how much the game wants us to see the archons as good guys if that makes sense #and sometimes it falls into like... the uncanny valley of writing. does that make sense.#as always what ive said here is open to (polite) discussion because i really do genuinely enjoy having proper conversations about this game #and its content despite my usual blorboposting #long post

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formidxble · 3 years

Text

summary: you and chan follow a routine every night. tonight’s different.

pairing: bang chan x female reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: angst, like Extreme Angst™️, college!au, established relationship

warnings: a lot of swearing, toxic relationship, mentions of sex ( oh and btw, this is not beta read. we die like men)

note: omg? finally? i got to write something and now i’m posting it on here? confidently??? who is she, we don’t know her! enough jokes though, this is my first fic ever that’s going to be posted on this platform, so i’m excited! constructive criticism and feedback are welcome 👉🏻👈🏻.

tagged ❤️: @popisdead @hanflix

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist

it’s become routine at this point.

when chan sees your room’s light turn off, it’s a signal that your roommates are now headed to bed and that you’re ready to come out and meet him. it’s been a busy few months for the both of you and the nights were the only time you two could meet. he’s a business major working on his business proposals for the semester and you’re a performing arts student, preparing for this semester’s art production. saying it was hard to make time to see each other was an understatement. nevertheless, you two made sure you still met, may it be only for a few minutes. some nights you were lucky, being able to meet for an hour or so. nights were reserved for chan and for chan only.

after putting on your coat, you reached out for the door knob as you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. “are you coming or not? i’m freezing” you sigh softly.

the first few nights were fun, you have to admit. impromptu grocery shopping for the both of your food supplies for rest of the week, a few make out sessions here and there, and sometimes, leading to even more if you both were lucky enough. it gave you a high you never thought you would ever come down from. whenever he kissed you after a long day, you felt as if the weight on your shoulders fell off, even for just a moment. whenever chan held you in his arms and told you it was going to be okay, your chest loosened, even for just a moment. chan was the calm in the chaos and when you were in his car, holding his hand and feeling his lips lingering on yours, he provided the needed break you longed for during the day.

but, as the days and weeks passed by, the nights became shorter and quieter. rides became quicker and the good conversations slowly turned into mere small talk. no longer would he give you soft touches, no longer would he ask how your day went, and no longer would chan look at you the way he did before. no more i love you’s, no more second glances when he dropped you off at your dorm during the early hours of the morning. you excused the change of behavior as the result of your fatigue in school. the change was expected, you always told yourself.

it’s become a mantra now, something you repeated to yourself as you lied in bed at night, a routine. a routine.

you close your eyes for a moment as you twist the doorknob to open the door. you focus on your phone again as soon as you got out of your dorm. “coming."

you spotted chan’s car a mile away. before, he would put the window down to greet you, a soft smile spreading across his face. now, you were faced with the car’s tinted windows, your reflection staring back at you as you wrapped your fingers around the handle of the car door. you heard the lock click.

“hey,” you mumbled. you heard a soft hum in response. you quietly put the seatbelt on, relaxing your back on the seat as you stared ahead. chan was on his phone, seatbelt off. light from his phone illuminated his features. the bags under his eyes were a little bit more prominent than the last time you noticed. you wonder if he’s been eating, getting enough sleep, but you weren’t in the position to ask now. not when frustration is starting to boil in your chest.

you didn’t know if you should call him out. it was his way to unwind as well, but then again, he was there to pick you up for a short date. this was the only time you both had for yourselves, yet here he was, texting away on his phone. this shouldn’t annoy you as much as it does now because chan does this whenever he was waiting.

“hey,” you repeat louder. chan looks up from his phone, an eyebrow raised.

“yes?” he asks, turning his phone off. the two of you are surrounded in darkness, with only the light from the lamp posts outside lighting the interior of the car.

“what do you mean, ‘yes?’ are you serious?” chan furrows his eyebrows at your words as he straps himself in. he turns to you, blinking. you suck in a breath.

“this is the only time we get to spend together and you’re on your phone? are you ser—“

“i’m sorry. there,” he breathes, “can we move past this? i’m not in the mood to fight.” he interrupts. you open your mouth to say something back, but you’re cut off by the movement of the car.

the air inside the car was heavy, heavier than usual. sure, you and chan had a couple of unresolved fights the other nights and sure, you spent you early mornings crying over him, but it should have been resolved with the few kisses he gives you, right? then why are you so upset now? chan makes amends, tells you he’s sorry for raising his voice, for ignoring you the whole day. he was busy, right? of course he’ll end up not texting you. he kisses the pain away, even though he’s the reason for said pain. he talks his way out and if he avoids the topic of the fight, you wouldn’t mind. that was the routine. but not tonight, apparently.

“you’re always not in the mood.” you whisper, crossing your arms in front of your chest. you watch the trees outside of the car starting to blur as chan’s driving sped up. this night will end as quick as it started, you thought. you hear a sigh beside you.

“i just—“ chan starts, “i can’t fight anymore, y/n. i’m tired.”

“and you think i’m not?” you answer back, looking at the man beside you, “god, we never talk anymore, chan. all we ever do is fuck the pain away and—“

you’re cut off by the sight of chan’s knuckles slowly turning white on the steering wheel. you almost don’t see the way he clenches his jaw. he pulls the car over at the side of the road and for a second, you think you two will be able to finally talk about your issues, the problems that were never muttered, but still plagued your relationship. god knows you wanted to hear from him, anything— fuck, just anything to finally resolve it, fix it. to finally end the routine you both had. but that hope shatters as soon as his mouth opens.

“what do you want me to say? we’ve been okay, we’ve been fin—“

you let out an exasperated sigh, eyes meeting his, “we aren’t fine, chan, we haven’t bee—“

“what do you mean?” chan questions. he removes his seatbelt to turn to you. a gentleman he still was, even though you knew he was avoiding the topic. again. “fuck, what do you want me to say? i was on the phone. how does that merit a full blown argu—“

“it’s not about the damn phone!” you exclaim, finally feeling the frustration in your chest blow over.

were you going crazy? why didn’t he see the changes? doesn’t he feel the frustration? were you the only one feeling this way, then? does he feel that everything was okay or were you that good at acting that everything was okay, that nothing was wrong? you run a hand down your face as you try to collect yourself. the car became quiet, as always. chan was never really vocal about things like this and let you do the talking. maybe this is why issues were never resolved.

“then, what is it about?” chan mumbles, eyes never leaving your form. you let out a soft scoff.

"what is it abou—are you kidding me? are you fucking with me?”chan raises an eyebrow in response, furrowing it afterwards. he lets out a sarcastic laugh after a few beats of silence. he shook his head as he turned to face the road again.

“is this fight going to last all night? if so, i’d rather just drop you off,” he starts to put his seatbelt on, "we can continue our date when you’re not this moody."

and at that moment, your world nearly stops. the silence in the car was loud and the tension, if you could see it, could be cut with a knife. his words echo in your mind as the car starts moving again, chan preparing to make a u-turn to go back in the direction of your dorm.

“not...this...moody?” you repeat to yourself. chan nonchalantly hums in response.

you couldn’t even look at this man anymore. it was as if you didn’t know him anymore. he carried the name of your boyfriend, but was he really the chan you knew? the chan you knew won’t be able to say these things to you, let alone treat you like this. you feel like a deer in headlights, shocked at how everything led up to this moment. and to think that the turning point of your relationship was something as simple as chan being on his phone. you closed your eyes as you tried to fight the lump forming in your throat.

“so, what am i supposed to do?” you ask. "just go home and think about what i did? what i said?”

chan shrugs. he shrugs. you couldn’t believe how he didn’t take this conversation seriously. was it because you’ve been in this exact same situation before? sure, fights have been frequent, but were they frequent to the point that chan just straight up ignored them? to the point that he never brought the topics up again? no effort to try and fix it?

was he that tired that he was willing to let everything pass? let you suffer in silence?

“stop the car,” you whisper shakily. chan doesn’t listen, though. he never does, he rarely does. he never listens anymore.

“chan, please stop the car,” you feel stupid begging, but that does it. he stops the car again, your dorm building in sight. his knuckles start to turn white again, but he closes his eyes this time. you hear him take a sharp inhale through his nose.

“i can’t fight anymore, y/n, please, just...we can fix it tomorrow, whatever it is.”

you let out a soft sob at his words. “chan, you always say that, god, you always say that.”

chan grips his steering wheel tighter. “yes, i do, but we always fix it. we always end up fixing it.”

“no, we fucking don’t!” you scream now, releasing the frustration that has been clawing to come out, “no, we don’t fix things, we fuck it away and we pray that things magically turn okay in the morning, but it never does! it never fucking does!”

chan stays quiet, eyes drifting to the car floor. you wish you could know what he was thinking. you wish he would talk to you, tell you what he really felt instead of just sitting there. god, were you tired. you were tired of pretending things were okay when they aren’t. you were tired of telling yourself it would be fixed, that the relationship would go back to normal, but it never does. and you just somehow have to live with it because that’s how it is with you and him. that’s the routine, right? and even though you hated it, you tolerated it because you loved him. but people will reach an end point, one way or the other. you can’t help but feel that this was yours.

“loving you is so exhausting, chan, i—“ your voice cracks, “i’m supposed to be content with this treatment? you and i not talking the whole day and then meeting at night just to make up for lost time, have sex, and pretend that everything’s okay, that the fights have not gotten out of hand, that we’re going to be ok—“

“we are going to be okay, fuck, it’s not that easy,” chan mumbles, “i’m trying, y/n, but i can’t give you everything you need, not anymore.”

silence fills the car and it engulfs the two of you.

"what changed?" you sob softly, tears now slowly flowing down your cheeks. it was okay, a few weeks ago. days became busier, tasks became heavier, but did that mean that your relationship had to deteriorate the way it has been?

“nothing changed, please, y/n,”chan breathes, not turning to look at you, “we just got busier and—"

“we weren’t like this, chan, we used to talk about things. w-we used to...talk. we can’t even do that now? am i asking for too much? i shouldn’t be begging for your time, chan, please—“you cry out softly. “why am i always second to you, chan? i try to be the best for you, chan, please.”

chan lets out a shaky breath as he tries to find the words to respond with. “y/n, it’s not y—“

“spare me the bullshit. spare me the "it’s not you, it’s me”. at least, be honest with me.” you say firmly, wiping away the tears on your cheeks harshly.

“i...i just don’t feel like i’m ready for this yet, okay? i want to fo—"

your feel something in your chest. a pain you’ve never felt before. chan’s words become a blur as you feel your back hit the seat.

you’re taken back to a time in your childhood when you were trying out the jump rope your friends had. being the idiot you were, you jumped in time with the rope and it tangled on your feet. you ended up falling on your chin, scraping it in the process. the pain rang through your skull and for a while, you couldn’t move, tears merely streaming down your cheeks. and to that that one time during one of the art productions in university, you ended up falling off of the stage. of course, it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but maybe if they turned on the lights before lowering the stage, you wouldn’t have broken your ankle. you remember how worried chan was, but most importantly, you remember how much it hurt. you couldn’t walk and if you tried, it would shoot pain up your leg.

adding all the pain you’ve felt in all those moments, it wouldn’t amount to the pain you feel now.

not ready? not ready after 3 years? how could he say that? this was the man you saw your future with, someone who was supposed to be your soulmate. that was him, that was chan. the nights you shared, the words you uttered, were all those fake? were all those just to make everything feel okay?

not ready?

not ready.

the words echo in your mind like a broken record. were you supposed to beg him to stay? beg him to be ready when he just admitted that he wasn’t? as you turned to look at him, you didn’t see the chan who loved you. instead, it was the shell of the man who used to love you, care for you. fuck, was love supposed to hurt this bad? you feel your heart starting to crack even more.

if this was love, you didn’t want it. not anymore.

“drop me off,”you mumble after a deafening silence, voice shaking as a sob threatens to come out of your mouth. chan turns to look at you, finally. you don’t meet his eyes anymore. you, instead, just look straight ahead. if he wasn’t ready for a commitment, even after 3 long years, then you were not about to beg him to stay. chan opens his mouth to say something, but you notice that he just swallows his words. he turns to look in front of him as he pushes on the gas again to drive back to your dorm. if he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. there’s no point in trying to convince him he is. the next best thing is to leave and let him figure out what he needed to figure out. if he needed space, he could have told you. what bothered you the most is the fact that chan’s always been about communication, but somehow and somewhere along the journey, he changed. maybe that’s just how it goes.

when he pulls up in front of your dorm building, chan turns to look at you again, eyes scanning your features. “i’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

you shake your head, eyes closing as you tried to fight the urge to cry again. the question he asked has always confused you. it was always like this, that even after a fight, he expects to see you again, the same time, the same place. you were tired and it didn’t help that you now knew why he wasn’t acting the same— he wasn’t ready to commit to you, even after all this time.

“i’m ending it here, chan."

“ending what?”

ending the routine, ending the cycle, ending us. these words rang through your head and you didn’t know which to answer. was he acting aloof so that he could get off easily? that maybe you’ll let him off again because he somehow can’t understand what was happening? you swallowed.

“us, chan, i—i can’t go on like this anymore,” you pause. was this what you really wanted or were you doing this to prove a point? you weren’t sure, but one thing’s clear, you had to do this, not only for him, but for you. you can’t subject yourself to this cycle anymore. you had to break it sooner or later. “when i get out of this car, we’re over."

chan’s car became a place of love and security in a world full of uncertainty and chaos. it was where you both spent time together when you needed a break, when you needed to be together. now, it was a place of loneliness and despair. it became a place full of resentment and unresolved issues and you can’t help but wonder how chan will be able to sit in his car again without thinking of this moment. before he could respond, you were out of the car.

in the back of your mind, you hoped that he would call you, run after you. beg you to stay, tell you that everything will be fixed if you just gave him time. you prayed in your head desperately. if he did so, you know you’ll come crawling back to him. if he showed some sort of care, some sort of longing, some sort of initiative that he wanted things to work out, that he wanted this as much as you do, then maybe you’ll come back to him again. that’s how it always was, right?

right?

behind you, you hear the car drive away.

#stray kids #bang chan au #bang chan x reader #skz #college!au #bang chan #the way i sobbed while writing this is criminal #kpop scenarios #kpop #skz imagines #bang chan angst #skz chan #skz angst #thanks for reading!!#kim tries to write #archive #stray kids imagines #skzstorynet

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softyoongiionly · 4 years

Text

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations

-They came for the music

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok

-Maybe you do

-Kinda

-Pay attention

-but it’s not your fault!!!!

-You just

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering

-Crush

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)

-And teachers have to study very very hard

-Educating the youth is no easy feat

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

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jgukmilk · 3 years

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he won’t know 03 (m) final

➔ summary: after weeks of hiding from the world, your friend, Mina, finally convinces you to crawl out of your cave and join her at a friday-frat party. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up with the person you had spent several weeks trying to avoid.

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, angst if you squint, much deserved fluff fucking finally

➔ warnings: mention of sexual assault, unprotected sex, soft sex because i’m a whore for that shit, jungoo is the one crying in this part, jungoo being a soft idiot nothing out of the ordinary, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), handjob, fingering, mild dirty talk, cervix kisses :), cum eating, throat fucking•_•, runny mascara because it’s chef’s kiss, soft dom jungoo, a really lame biology pick up line at the end that i am pathetically proud of, that’s it..? it’s unedited btw :P

➔ wordcount: 8.3k

➔ a/n: this was a bitch to finish but holy fuck. hope you enjoy ;) feedback is always appreciated !

part 1, part 2, part 3 final.

It had officially been seventeen and-a-half days since Jungkook came to visit you at your dorm, only to end up in you crying your eyes out in front of him and shove him out of your room.

Mina came home later that night and questioned your tear-stained cheeks. Did you tell her? No, of course not. You brushed it off and convinced her that you were having a hard time with the breakup with Jaehyun, that everything was still so fresh, and you simply just needed time. Though that was as far from the truth as it could possibly be, she believed you regardless which you were thankful for.

You didn’t miss Jaehyun, not one bit. You hadn’t seen him after your last encounter, and you thanked your stars daily. To be honest you weren’t given a chance to run into that asshole since you had reduced your time spent outside of the dorm.

Your schedule pretty much consisted of wake up, go to your classes, come back to the dorm, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It sounded like one of those shabby T-shirt every twelve-year-old would wear back in middle school and show it off for being ‘quirky’.

You weren’t complaining, you preferred things this way, for now at least. Though you couldn’t deny that you missed your friends, but you needed some time alone and you knew that, so to distract yourself from missing your friends, what better way to do so than studying till the ass-crack of dawn on a Friday night.

Fridays were the only day of the week you could spend peacefully unbothered. Every other day would consist of countless texts and calls from your friends asking about your whereabouts and why they almost never saw you around campus anymore.

To which you told them you were busy studying and thanked them for checking in on you. It wasn’t a complete lie, you were, in fact, busy studying. They never saw you because, you were always on your desk burying your face between the pages of a textbook. What you didn’t tell them was that you were so far ahead with the curriculum that you could go a whole two weeks without even touching any of your books and you wouldn’t be behind.

You never realized how much you had read ahead until a few days ago when your biology professor had only begun to teach you about DNA replication, transcription and translation. You had already covered half of it.

Your professor always did say that the unspoken rule of studies was to always read ahead. Though you didn’t think he meant to this certain extent.

You hadn’t felt academic stress in a while due to your habit of studying so much, and you were happy about it of course, but holy fuck, you were so bored, and it was starting to get to you.

“Y/N!” perfect timing for your best friend to break you out of your thoughts. Mina happily pranced through your shared dorm room and over to you, “Mina” you said back, smiling, although not in the same enthusiasm, meh – A for effort.

“Oh my god, you’re actually awake,” she said, placing herself on her bed while remaining eye contact with you.

“Well yeah, I have some topics I still need to cover before I go to bed,” Lies. You certainly didn’t have any topics you needed to cover. You would’ve gone to bed if you knew Mina was coming back to the dorm so early. It was Friday night after all, which meant that Mina was out partying with the rest of the guys. Not today, apparently.

“Isn’t there a party today?” you asked, flipping through the pages of the book in front of you, pretending to read through the paragraphs that seemed like nothing more than dull words.

“Well… yeah, but, I figured I’d rather spend my night with you – you know, since it’s... it’s been a while,” you immediately stopped fiddling with the paper, “oh,” was all you could say. “I-I mean, if you wanna study, you totally can! I don’t want to interrupt or – or anything.” You shook your head, “no, no… uhm, I could use a break anyway.” Her face relaxed.

“So… how’ve you been?” you looked around the room, “I’m okay, just studying, nothing else really,” you reassured her “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, barely above a whisper, however you could still make out the melancholic tone hidden behind her voice.

“yeah… I’m sorry, I’m just – “

“studying? Yeah that seems to be your entire world lately.” She cut you off, her voice a little louder than it was previously. You opened your mouth to respond but – “Y/N c’mon, I know I haven’t necessarily been with you physically lately, but I’m not oblivious. Our exams are in a couple of months and you’re studying as if they’re tomorrow.” She explained all in one breath, “the curriculum this semester isn’t even that content-heavy, even the professors told us we could take it easy.”

“where are you going with this?” you asked in a weak voice. She seemed to have you all figured out. You truly underestimated how well your best friend understood you. “I just want to know why? Why are you avoiding your friends… why are you avoiding me?”

And then it came back. Everything you had been trying to avoid for the past two weeks came back. Jaehyun, the cheating, the assault, Jungkook. You began to feel your eyes stinging, subconsciously you averted them towards the ceiling. “Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help, please let me help.”

You made your way towards the bed, seating yourself next to her, “is this about Jaehyun? Do you miss hi–“

“No, God no I don’t, I’m so happy he’s out of my life,” she looked at you perplexed. And so, you told her. You told her absolutely everything, all the way from Jaehyun trying to touch you when you were trying to explain yourself to him, to the conversation you had with Jungkook in your dorm room several days ago.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swiftly reached for her hand as you saw her attempt to rush out of your shared dorm, “no! I… It’s over now, he’s out of my life, there’s no reason to go look for him.”

“Of course there is! Why didn’t you–!” She yelled, however quickly stopped herself to calm down. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? He’s getting away with this when he deserves to rot in hell.” It wasn’t that simple. You never wanted to see him again, and telling any form of authority about what had happened certainly meant you were going to cross paths with him often.

Plus, it wasn’t even likely that they would’ve believed you, after all it was your word against his. There was no physical evidence of what he had done. You had your ripped clothes but you threw those away the day after the incident, you never wanted to look at them again and be reminded of this crap.

Then you had the bruises on your wrist, but Jaehyun could easily say that you guys had been into some sort of bdsm to make them believe him. They were also healed now, so there was no evidence at all to secure your side.

“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what he did, I just want to move forward. Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked at the end, in which Mina reached out to hold your hand. “I don’t want anyone to know,” you cried.

“I’m so sorry, bug,” Mina rubbed your back empathetically, in a subtle attempt to calm you down. Though Mina tried her best to not scream at the top of her lungs, spitting out every profanity to curse Jaehyun. This wasn’t about her, and she knew that very well.

All she could do was comfort you and listen to everything you had bottled up for weeks. “You know what you need?” she smiled at you gently. You sniffled, rubbing your red, tear-stained cheeks, “what?”

“You need fresh air, to doll up and feel good! We all miss you so much Y/N, I don’t want you to spend another Friday night in here alone by yourself.” You raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue, “Wooyoung’s parent are out of town for the weekend so he’s hosting are party.”

“And?”

“And we’re going!” she clapped excitingly, “no Mina I–“ she held both your hands tightly, puppy eyes were presented right in front of you, “pleaseeee, just for an hour, you can leave after that if you don’t like it.”

You thought about it for a moment. You did deserve a break, you needed to get out of the dorm anyway, have some fun with your friends, maybe even get a bit of well-deserved alcohol in your system.

“Fuck it, let’s do i–“

“YES! Okay, okay I know exactly what you’re wearing.” She rushed over to her closet, rummaging through fabric after fabric while you silently watched behind her, seated on your own bed. “Put this on right now,” You didn’t get a good look at the clothing item she threw at you, all you knew was that the fabric was quite tiny. It was a beautiful dark navy and black fabric that was smooth to the touch.

It was a woolen, striped bodycon dress. True to its name – it looked very tight. You looked at her perplexed, “that’s me being nice. My other option was throwing you my skirt that would barely cover your juicy ass.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “fine, what shoes with?” she pointed at your black high-top converse that were placed neatly by the door. Alright, black converse it was.

–

��Y/N?” was the first thing you heard when walking through the door, entering the crowd of drunks. Before you stood your friends, the friends you had missed oh so much. Jimin was the first to run to you, lifting you off the ground to swing you around, “Y/N!” He laughed excitingly. Right behind him stood Seokjin, “Okay, I’ve had too much to drink guys I’m starting see Y/N,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jin.”

One by one, they each gave you a heartwarming hug. Wow, you missed them, and you didn’t even realize, “about time you got out of the damn dorm,” Taehyung complained, you playfully slapped his shoulder. “You don’t get to say shit, you rot in your own dorm just as much as I do when you don’t have classes,” smiling, he scoffed, “I have altered my ways, about time you did too,” you shook your head.

You hadn’t noticed that an hour had already passed by, and you didn’t want to leave one bit. Your night was just getting started. Looking around you spotted all your friends, all but two. Neither had you seen the entire party: Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Jin!” you loudly spoke through the banging music, “yeah?!” he replied, “have you seen Yoongi?” you cupped your mouth in attempt to speak as clearly as possible, “What?! No thank you! I don’t wan’t Oolong tea. There’s booze why would I want tea?!” You rubbed your face, dragging Jin’s ear closer to your mouth, “Have you seen Yoongi?”

“OW, Jesus woman.” He rubbed his ear, “He should be in the kitchen,” you thanked him, and apologetically smiled for almost ripping his ear off.

You skipped your way through the heavy crowd of drunk youth. Some of which even looked younger than that. A string of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ was heard from you as you pushed your way to the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” he turned around, seeing you. He eyed the drink in his hand that resembled the color of piss, “I’ve had too much,” the bottom of the cup now faced the ceiling, the remainder of the liquid spilling down the edge of the cup and down the sink.

“Okay, you guys really have to stop doing that,” you laughed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” The mint-haired boy asked in a monotone, your smile faltered.

“I’m happy to see you too?” your voice was skeptical. He seemed annoyed, which frankly, you didn’t understand. You hadn’t seen the man in well over two weeks, no way had he found a reason to be mad at you unless you had happened to eat the last lamb skewer in his dream. He always did love his lamb skewers.

“’M sorry, my head’s spinning,” instantly your suspicion was replaced with worry. You quickly made your way to the sink and filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him, which he gratefully accepted. “How’ve you been?”

You sighed, “you want the rainbow-sprinkled version or the one that was dragged through the mud, shat and pissed on,” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll take the piss-stained version, thank you.” He placed the red, water filled plastic cup next to him on the kitchen counter.

“Rough couple of weeks. I’m doing better though, so that’s something.” You shrugged your shoulders. Yoongi listened carefully, gently tilting his head to the side anticipating for you to keep going, however you didn’t, that was all you were going to say. Yoongi wasn’t stupid, clearly something had happened to make you disappear for weeks, but whatever it was it had to remain unknown for him – he wasn’t going to push you to talk to him.

“And where’s Jaehyun been through all of this?” he speculated.

“Uhm, we broke up,” you tried to laugh it off. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry–“ your hands swung in front of you to shake them. To Yoongi, you had most likely looked like you were sad from the breakup, understandably so. Afterall that is the typical reaction to a breakup, isn’t it?

“Don’t be! My god, no. It could – I’m not –“ you closed your eyes, sighing gently, “It was for the best.”

“I’m not going, Tae,” Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger, attempting to rub the non-existing headache out of his temples.

“Come on, Jungkook. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve partied with all of us,” a hot minute, was putting it lightly. Jungkook was currently in his own shared dorm with Taehyung, with a black DualShock controller seated in his lap – enjoying a game of overwatch shortly before Taehyung had dialed his number. Several empty packets of ramen placed randomly across the room.

Different flavors of course. Variety was important.

“Can’t. ‘m busy.” Though Jungkook couldn’t see it, he was sure Taehyung had rolled his eyes through the other line. “Busy my ass,” Taehyung sighed, “you do this every week.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this every week if you would just stop asking,” Jungkook spat back, with a little more attitude than he had intended. “Jungshi,” the older friend started, “you can’t let this bother you forever,” he knew. Fuck, no one knew better than Jungkook that he couldn’t spend the rest of eternity sulking over this. Over you.

But no one knew how Jungkook was feeling either, every living fiber of his felt either conflicted or guilty. He couldn’t help but think that what had happened to you, was partially his fault – no, it was entirely his fault. Whatever Jaehyun had done was because of Jungkook.

Your words circled back and forth in his mind, day and night. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your tear-stained orbs looking at him with so much hurt and hatred. Telling him to leave and that you never wanted to see him again.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, to know how you were feeling. Were you okay? Were you not? Jungkook had to make peace with the fact that he might in fact never get any answer for any of his questions. All he wanted was to see you, just for one small, useless moment.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Frankly, it seemed like you had completely vanished from the face of the earth, even the guys hadn’t seen you. He managed to get a hold of Mina a few times, briefly asking of your whereabouts. She always tried her best to console and reassure him that you were okay, you were just always busy lately.

Busy.

You were always busy. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant: you were escaping.

Busy.

Oh, how Jungkook had grown to hate that word. How very hypocritical of him, he was mentally scolding you for using the lame excuse of being ‘busy’, all while doing the exact same behind the screen of his phone to his best friend.

“I just need time, hyung.” Jungkook tried to justify. “Time?” Taehyung scoffed, “You’ve had two weeks. I’m sorry Guk, but I’m not gonna sit around while I watch you completely lose yourself.” The younger slid further down the chair, staring blankly at the bright screen displaying the home-screen of his favorite video game.

“She’s here.”

Silence…

You… you were there? He could see you. Jungkook had a chance to see you. “Good to know,” was all he could say. “And you don’t give a rat’s ass?” Of course, he did, but he couldn’t because, “she doesn’t want to see me, hyung. If I show up, I’ll ruin her night. She isn’t hiding from the world anymore.”

“You can’t be sure– “

“Yes, I can,” Jungkook closed his eyes, a small exhale moved past his lips, “I can’t ruin this. Please don’t make me ruin this for her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt weak. He couldn’t describe the growing urge he felt to rush over to whatever party you were at, just to see you. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not again.

Last time he acted selfishly he hurt you. He lost you. He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse – after all, you were out of his life, but Jungkook wasn’t willing to be daring, not if it meant it would hurt you again.

“Fine,” an extended beep was heard from the small speaker of the phone. Completely defeated, Jungkook gently threw his phone back onto his bed. Leaning back in his chair he faced the ceiling. He couldn’t seem to get himself to play another game, so shutting everything down, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Diving under the cool, fluffy sheets didn’t seem to be enough for Jungkook to knock out, which was odd. Jungkook could easily fall asleep anywhere on anything. One time he even managed to fall into a deep sleep after downing two 500ml Monster energy drinks. He had planned to pull an all-nighter with some of his online friends for a good few games of Valorant, the best way to do so was to shove an insanely unhealthy amount of energy drinks down the hatch.

He didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall asleep right away – he didn’t even remember walking over to his bed before dropping dead. But this, this was just frustrating.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until when he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, a key was heard jiggling in the lock of the door. It must’ve taken Jungkook longer to fall asleep than he had anticipated if Taehyung had already decided to leave the party; that boy wouldn’t leave a party unless bits of the morning sunlight was peeking through the windows of the house of the host.

The door finally opened. Jungkook squinted his eyes, adjusting to the new light shining through the door frame. A black silhouette walked pasted the door. It wasn’t until Jungkook’s blurry vision had cleared up that he noticed a feminine like figure standing at the door. Not just anybody, no.

You. In fact.

Jungkook felt his heart begin to tie knots. He was dreaming for sure; there was no way you could just appear in his dorm of all dorms. But there you were, in the flesh. You gently clasped the bundle of keys in your palm, preventing them from making any further noise, taking soft strides through the room – you probably thought he was asleep.

You quietly made your way over to Taehyung’s bed, opening the drawer of his nightstand. Jungkook’s eyes monitoring your every move went completely unnoticed by you. The poor boy was in awe, it was like you were an angel that had descended from heaven and blessed him with your presence. Frankly, in Jungkook’s eyes, you were an angel.

You let a small aha slip past your lips, in your hands was a turquoise polaroid camera. You neared the delicate camera to your face, making sure it was the right item through the darkness, and indeed it was.

About to make your way out of the dorm, your head turned slightly; in the direction of the boy that was currently sweating his balls off and his heart pounding like crazy. Fuck, did you see him looking at you? You must’ve, you wouldn’t look at him otherwise. Could you hear his heart beating through his ribcage? That has to be it, after all it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He hurriedly closed his eyes, praying to the lord above that for once in Jungkook’s cursed life, the spirits would work in his favor. God, if you do this for me, I won’t fart on Taehyung’s head pillow anymore.

You slowly made your way over to Jungkook’s bed, with each step you took he felt a new set of sweat gather in his warm palms. He couldn’t feel anything, all he heard was the shuffle of his blanket. The blanket that was supposed to be on him.

While Jungkook had gone unnoticed to you, the absence of his soft, grey blanket on his body had been completely disregarded. He had tossed so much in his unreachable sleep that he had kicked his blanket right off of him.

Not only did Jungkook feel his body overcome in warmth, but his heart also danced at the thought of you going out of your way to cover him in his blanket. Your kindness really was out of this world.

No matter how many times someone had hurt you, you never failed to leave the ways of resentment and treat people with kindness. You were truly too kind for your own good. That was one of your qualities that Jungkook was most fond of, the world didn’t deserve you. it didn’t deserve an angel.

You on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the fact that the man in front of you was wide awake. You crouched down by the side of his bed, you really should get going, you weren’t supposed to linger for so long.

Your eyes trailed the sleeping beauty on the bed. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, a few of the hairs grazing the scar on right side of the skin. His dark hair was sprawled over his forehead. His lips were sealed, but slightly pouty, they looked so soft.

You couldn’t make much of his face, the only source of light being the moon light throw the window.

You hand moved on its own. Fingers trailing to the strands of the dark hair, moving the silky locks out of his face.

You wish things had been different between you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss Jungkook, which is the exact lie you had been telling yourself for weeks. Even though he was right in front of you, you missed him. No, fuck. You couldn’t miss him, even though you wanted things to be different, they never could be.

You snapped out of your daze, removing your hands from his face, you stood up and turned your heel.

“Don’t leave.” You flinched, a small holy shit, was heard from you. Turning back around, you saw Jungkook in the exact same position you had left him in, the only difference was that his eyes were now open. The warm orbs you were completely dazed by were now looking at you.

You had to leave, but you couldn’t, your feet grew minds of their own, obediently staying in place.

Jungkook sat up from his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He was now seated at the edge of his bed, hands on either side of his thighs, tightly clenching on the sheets beneath him in order to prevent himself from reaching out after you.

There was no exchange of words, you were both lost in each other’s gazes. You were clutching your jacket tightly, looking like a dear caught in head lights. You took a step backwards, gathering every ounce of power you had in your body to try and get out of there. You just couldn’t stay.

“Please,” his voice sounded broken. There it was again – the expression on his face you had never learned to read. His eyelids were droopy, eyebrows relaxed yet slightly furrowed.

He rose from his bed, testing the waters. He examined your reaction before moving any further. When he saw you standing completely still, he took a step forward; you didn’t move, so he took yet another step. That’s when you started to back away, you didn’t look scared or alarmed, so he continued.

This kept going until the back of your thighs met a desk you had failed to notice was there in the first place. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

Jungkook was now in front of you, eyes looking at yours, searching for any sign of uncertainty. But all he saw was sadness and hurt. His heart clenched in discomfort, because partially – if not all – of the hurt in your eyes was because of him.

He wanted to pour his heart out to you, tell you he was sorry for being an asshole. Tell you he would cut his heart into pieces and hand it to you one by one if that’s what it took to make you happy.

But he wanted to be cautious, he didn’t want to scare you off. So instead, he carefully, carefully, lifted his hand up to your face. The knuckle of his middle finger grazed the side of your cheek. You didn’t flinch.

He extended his fingers to hold your cheek in his palm, his thumb ever so slightly caressing the flush skin. It wasn’t until you leaned into his touch that he felt how warm you were. He could barely make out the light tint of a rosy color on your cheeks. Must’ve been from the booze you’ve ingested at the party, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you had barely had enough alcohol to call yourself tipsy.

Deep in your own thoughts, you felt Jungkook’s other hand slip around your waist, the fingers on your cheek descended down to accompany his other hand.

He was hugging you. His face was buried right in the crook of your neck, arms securely wrapped around your frame, fearing for his dear life that you were going to let go of him. His fragile soul couldn’t take it if you did.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to hug him back, not until you felt the skin on your shoulder grow wet. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, barely above a whisper – audible to your ear, nonetheless.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your sides lamely. His eyes were glossy, the tip of his nose red, and a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, leaving stains of the salty water. “I’m – It’s my fault, all of it, I know I don’t deserve it but please forgive me.” he sniffled, “I know you hate me, and you have every right to – “

“I don’t hate you,” for the first time that night, you spoke to him. Your voice instantly sedated the distress in Jungkook. You wiped the tears streaming down his face with your cold thumb, which only caused more to fall. “You should… It’s all my fault.”

Although that had been your exact theory for the past weeks, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that the statement was true anymore. You continuously blamed Jungkook for everything that had happened to you, but that wasn’t fair, you realized that now.

Because if Jungkook really was at fault, then so were you. After all, it takes two to tango.

“It’s not,” you tried to soothe the tremendous guilt you could recognize behind his doe eyes, it was the exact same guilt you had felt when you returned from the weekend at the summerhouse. The same guilt that had eaten every bit of your fiber. Blaming yourself for days for having cheated on your now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth.

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you admitted, “but that fucker – “ Jaehyun, Jungkook hissed.

“Anything that came after the summerhouse wasn’t your fault. Jaehyun showed me who he really was – an asshole in disguise,” at the mention of what you had been through, Jungkook’s grip on your sides tightened slightly. You knew he was blaming himself for what Jaehyun had done.

It wasn’t anyone but Jaehyun’s fault.

You cupped his face in both your hands, smiling softly, “please stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” You spoke to him, but also to yourself.

For the longest time you thought it was your fault, that if you hadn’t slept with Jungkook, that you and Jaehyun would still be happy and he would never had touched you like he did.

You and Jaehyun hadn’t been happy for a while, and if he hadn’t snapped you would’ve continued to date A-level garbage.

It took you some time to realize that it was never your fault, and it most certainly wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. Your stomach dropped at the thought of him blaming himself so mercilessly.

He sniffled harder at your words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–“

The kiss was soft. You could tell he completely froze against your lips. Your hands were still on his cheeks; the feel of the occasional tear grazed the skin of your fingers. It didn’t take long for him to melt completely against the plush of your warm lips.

His arms moved back around your waist, pulling you against him until you were flush against his chest. You pulled away. He followed you, refusing that’d be the end of your kiss. His pleading lips captured yours in a second kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, not having much room to move them any place else when Jungkook was pressing himself so hard against you.

“I missed you,” he breathed between the kiss “so much.” Fuck, if only he knew how much you had missed him, “I couldn’t bare not having you around me.” You hummed against his mouth, hoping he understood that you reciprocated.

You felt his warm tongue scrape against your top lip, pleading to have a taste of yours. You complied easily. Opening your mouth for him to explore the heavenly wonder that was your mouth.

You had kissed Jungkook before, but this felt different, it was softer, much more gentle. The gliding of his tongue against yours felt new, but so right.

You soon came to the agreement that kissing Jungkook was one of your favorite things to do. The slow dance of your lips increased the beating of your heart, you were sure he could feel it knock against his chest.

He lifted your body, as if you were a feather and seated you on the desk behind you, standing right between your legs. His hands resting on either thigh, gently caressing the bare flesh.

Your lips suddenly felt cold, opening your eyes you found Jungkook’s brown orbs staring right at you. Worry began to creep its way up your spine. “What’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you want me to stop?”

He was being careful. Careful not to cross any boundaries. He couldn’t fuck up again, not this time. You smiled at him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a peck at the top of his palm, “not at all.”

Jungkook swears his heart melted then and there; the softness in your eyes, the relaxed tone of your voice, there was no hesitation. You felt safe, which was everything Jungkook ever wanted.

He leaned back in, you closed your eyes, puckering up thinking he was going in for another kiss. You felt a pair of soft bud-like lips at the side of your jaw, “beautiful,” he whispered to himself. He kissed the top of your covered shoulder.

You leaned back slightly, both hands steady behind you to support you weight. Jungkook leaned forward, following you, refusing that any sort of distance was between you.

Even though you had given him the ok, you could feel Jungkook was slightly hesitant in his moves, which was nothing like the Jungkook you had in front of you almost an entire month ago. He was so confident and cocky, yet now, he seemed unsure.

He was afraid of touching you and screwing up everything.

“I won’t leave this time,” you whispered, moving your head so that you were now looking at him, “I’m not gonna run away.” You took his hand in yours, guiding them towards your tits. Jungkook watched in awe as his hand completely engulfed your breast.

You let go of his hand when you felt him begin to fondle with the perky tit. He moved back to your neck, but instead of small affectionate kisses, he now began to place open-mouthed kisses at the expanse of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more space; you felt the corners of his lips curl slightly.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue gliding over the skin, slapping your hand over your mouth. While one of his hands were busy with your chest, the other removed the hand from your face, “don’t, you sound so pretty.”

The fingers that were once wrapped around your hand moved down your torso, grazing the apex of your thigh. With his mouth still busy on your neck, he hoisted the length of your stripped dress (that was actually Mina’s), just enough to expose most of your legs, but not enough to reveal the fabric of your underwear.

The pad of his cold fingers slithered over the black textile experimentally. Carefully brushing over your clothed clit, you whimpered. You sounded downright touch deprived.

The lustful boy in front of you began sucking on your neck, all while cupping your clothed cunt without warning. “Fuck,” You jumped at the overwhelming touch.

“So sensitive” he mumbled, “aren’t you, angel,” you hummed at the rightfully missed affectionate name. You gripped his shoulders when you felt him massage a little harsher at your mound. Your underwear was beginning to stick to your folds embarrassingly fast.

Jungkook curled a finger around the section of fabric that was directly against your pussy. Providing access for his hand to touch your warmth without removing your underwear. A muffled, high pitched moan of his name rolled off your tongue at his slender finger sliding into your velvety walls.

You were already so wet, and you were sure he noticed how embarrassed you were about it, with the way you were discreetly trying to close your legs.

He used his other hand to keep your legs apart. “Don’t be shy,” he soothed, “I love this pretty” he scraped his finger against the spongy spot, “pretty pussy.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whined, it only caused Jungkook to chuckle whole-heartedly at your neediness, “what is it, baby?” he pressed his thumb against your clit, gently tapping at it. You shuttered.

“I, fuck, I–“ your thighs began to tense, “tell me,” he urged. You were trying your best, but every sentence you were attempted to formulate was instantly thrown out the window the second Jungkook added another finger into your cunt.

His fingers were scraping at your walls, pumping into you or scissoring. The dangerous combination of all of the above, and his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns on your nub had you seeing stars.

Too focused on his magical fingers, you overlooked the small detail of Jungkook now sitting between your thighs, kneeling. He rubbed your thigh soothingly.

Deciding to help you out, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around the lame excuse of your panties, dragging the pathetic fabric down your legs. You were now completely exposed.

Jungkook eyes you between your legs, shamelessly. “Pretty girl,” he wooed. He pulled his fingers out of you, you whined at the empty feeling.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his tongue, slowly licking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Telling yourself you could cum from the sight alone was in no way an understatement.

“Mmm, good, so fucking good.” He purred against his fingers. “Bet it would taste even better from here,” teasingly, he slid his finger up your soaked slit, punctuating his sentence, “wouldn’t it, angel?” You quivered at his words. “is that what you want?” yes. “your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes – Yes, please. Please eat me out,” without further ado, Jungkook wasted no time placing a much-deserved kiss on your swollen bud. You moaned in relief, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jungkook’s lips circling your clit.

You bucked your hips at the feeling of his tongue sloppily gliding against your folds. Your fingers found themselves tangled in Jungkook’s dark and messy locks. He praised you.

Small grunts and low moans were felt against your warm cunt, “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself against you. You clenched around nothing at the compliment.

“Feels so good,” you cooed, “yeah?” small licks turned into long laps, “yeah – fuck, don’t stop.” Stopping was the furthest thing from Jungkook’s mind.

You felt knots beginning to tie at the pit of your stomach, Jungkook could easily feel you were about to burst. The constant tugging of his hair and the pulsating cunt was all he needed, to know he was doing his job right.

“I love seeing you so needy for me,” at this point, you’re chanting his name shamelessly. It isn’t until Jungkook adds a finger lamely circling your clit that you feel you’re about to snap. The familiar ache between your legs became almost unbearable, you threw your head back and shut your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” you obliged. Bending your head forward to watch Jungkook eat your cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The view was the most sinful yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. His brows are furrowed, he murmured against your warmth. You occasionally saw the tip of his nose, and when you did it was absolutely soaked in your arousal.

“Oh my fuck– Jungkook.”

It’s only when Jungkook uttered his next sentence that you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Fuck, baby, I could eat you out for the rest of my life,” you’re breaking apart.

Your hips surge forward, pathetically grinding on Jungkook’s face — he lets you. Helping you ride out your high, he slowly laps his tongue over your spasming pussy. He’s watching your every move, “delicious,” he smiled innocently as if his mouth wasn’t completely covered in your cum.

He stood up once again, licked his lips clean in the process and you swore you just felt something trail down your thigh. Once he was at eye-level with you, you looked down and saw the tent that has formed in his sweatpants.

Naturally, you go to grab his cock. Not wanting to waste time, you wrapped your fingers around it over the material. He visibly shuttered at the feeling, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you hadn’t touched Jungkook – at all. Not even back at the summer house.

Here you were, complaining over how selfish Jaehyun used to be whenever you two were having sex, saying he never touched you properly or showed any ounce of effort.

You weren’t any different. So far, Jungkook had only been the giver, and you had been a spoiled pillow princess.

Trailing your eyes back up to Jungkook, you watched him carefully as you curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously, dragging the unnecessary material down his legs.

His cock sprung up, hitting his stomach. The tip was red and hot, several drops of precum dripped down the angry shaft. He was impossibly hard and you began to feel guilt overcome you for having been so selfish with pleasure. Determined to make it up to him, you placed all five tips of your fingers at the very apex of his cock, sliding down until your palm comes in contact with the tip.

The prettiest whine you’d ever heard rolled off of Jungkook’s lips, he watched you attentively, “y-you don’t have to–“ you shushed him, “I want to.”

You twist your wrist and positioned your fingers around his dick. Using your thumb to spread the precum, you lightly brush his frenulum in which he grunts, “fuck, babyyy,” unintentionally thrusting up into your hand.

You squeezed harder and began to pump his cock. The surprising rotation of your wrist was enough to have him slap both hands on either side of the desk, completely trapping you.

“Faster,” he pleads, “go faster,” and you do. His head drops down to your shoulder. He tried to distract himself by sucking another bruise onto the skin of your neck, but it was completely hopeless with the pace your hand was pumping.

Rhythmically, he was subtly thrusting his hips into your hand, matching the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck you, so for the time being, he had to fuck your hand. And God, it felt so good it was almost pathetic how much a handjob could rile him up.

You felt his hips stutter, and now it was his turn to chant your name. You placed a soothing kiss on the expanse of his shoulder, “Mmm gonna – haah, shit,” You hurriedly pushed him back gently and dropped to your knees. “What are you – Fuck!”

Most of his length is now shoved down as much as your gag reflex allows, and it isn’t until you have Jungkook’s cock halfway down your throat that you realize how fucking impressive his size is. The thought of having him stretch you out with his girth is enough to make you wet all over again.

Jungkook can’t resist collecting your strands of hair up into a ponytail and piston into your mouth, “s-sorry, I’m sorry,” strings of apologies are heard throughout the room, along with the sound of you choking. Your eyes begin to sting, fresh tears falling down the side of your cheek. He continues to fuck your throat, and contrary to his belief, you fucking love it.

You steady yourself by grabbing the sides of his thighs. Echoes of Jungkook’s moans and heavy sighs fill the room, alongside the sound of his cock continuously thrusting down your throat.

“so pretty, you’re s-so fucking pretty like this,” you hum at his praise, “like the feeling of my cock down your throat, huh? Dirty girl, fuck,” at this point your mascara had completely stained your cheeks.

The sight of your brows furrowed, eyes filled with tears, mascara-stained cheeks, and the absolute cherry on top: Jungkook repeatedly plunging his impossibly hard cock down your sore throat, was all it took for him to blow his load.

You’ve never heard such a moan come from Jungkook, it sounded broken and you’re certain it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever hear in your life. You felt the warm, white liquid coat the walls of your cheeks and throat and you made sure to swallow every single drop.

You’re stopped from licking his dick clean when Jungkook pulls you back up to meet him at eye level. He lifts you up to sit at the desk again, hands on either side of you, he looks you dead in the eye, “I want to fuck you,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen slightly at his directness. Confused, you look down at his dick and holy fuck – he was still incredibly hard. Seriously, this boy had some serious stamina. You assumed his extraordinary stamina must’ve developed all those years in the gym.

You felt tiny under his gaze, you meet his eyes, nonetheless.

“Come here and fuck me then.” You felt bold when a shaky breath left his mouth. He hoisted both your legs up to his waist, causing you to lean back slightly, both your hands were forced to sit behind you once again to prevent yourself from falling backwards.

Without another word, Jungkook sealed the distance between your lips with a sweet kiss.

“Ohmygod–” was all you were able to say when his cock slowly disappeared inside of you, your walls of warmth hugging his length. Once again, you had underestimated just how big Jungkook actually was. He snaked a hand to meet the small of your back to steady himself before he finally began to pull himself out, leaving his tip, only to push back in.

You whined at the delicious stretch. Setting a fixed pace, Jungkook repeatedly thrusted into you, while his lips were busy on yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hairs of his nape. “Mmm fuck,” he moaned deliciously against your lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, parting your lips with a soft chu. You nodded; your eyelids lazily drooped over your orbs; eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. He felt so good.

“Say it,” he rasped, “tell me how good it feels,” his thrusts grew harder, “tell me how good I’m fucking this pretty pussy. My pussy,” his pussy, yes, it was his.

You cried at the claim. “It feels so good Guk – fuck I love when you fuck me like this.”

He pounded harder, as if he was trying to punctuate something. Both your breaths quickened, equally as eager to chase your own high as you were each other’s. Pushing his chests flush against yours, he leaned his forehead against yours, neither of you broke eye contact.

“L-love you,” he cried. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was punched out of you, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Jungkook’s hips thrusting into yours unforgivingly, or if it was the fact that the boy you basically watched grow up happened to be the same person you’ve liked since middle-school, standing in front of you, telling you he loves you.

You lied to yourself, you genuinely thought whatever strong feeling you felt for Jungkook had died down, that you had truly moved on. You even got a boyfriend and all that.

But it wasn’t until you heard Jungkook utter those three words that you realized they never went away, no – you had hidden those feelings away in a box and chained several chains around it to keep them suppressed.

You loved him too, of course you did. You never stopped loving him for fucks sake. It pains you to think about how much crap both of you were put through for you to realize this.

“I love you.”

12-year-old Y/N was applauding and smiling like crazy; you finally said it. The love you had carried for Jungkook in your poor overwhelmed heart was finally spilled all over the table.

Jungkook’s hips stuttered at your reciprocating words. He hadn’t expected you to say it back, but for the love of all that is holy; he loved hearing you say it, it sounded so pretty coming from you. “Say it again,” he was now smiling, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

His eyes were glowing, so of course you had to say it again, “I love you. Fuck – I always have.”

“Again.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” completely out of breath, you caressed the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes teared up once again. He only fastened his pace, if that was even humanly possible. Lovingly, you ran your thumb across the scar that laid right on his cheek, “I am in love with you.”

That being said – Jungkook exploded, with you following right after him. You were holding on to each other for dear life, with slow pumps to help ride out your highs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, at your final clench.

Small strings of I love you’s were heard from Jungkook who was breathlessly panting into your neck. He kissed your temple, guiding a small string of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he started, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year of high school,” he smiled adoringly at you, “the first day we had a biology class, I saw you slip a note into my locker that read ‘if I could be a nitrogen base, I’d be adenine so I could be paired with U.’ and there was a small purple bellflower taped to the corner of the paper. You’ve had my heart ever since that day.”

Your eyes widened, physically cringing at yourself in your teenage years, “I can’t believe you knew it was me, and really? That’s what it took for you to like me back?” You giggled, “you can’t blame me, you were, and still are, extremely adorable.” He shrugged his shoulders. You gently pushed his shoulders, feeling your face turn red at the reminder of your rather sappy biology pick up line.

“Well, I’ve loved you since middle school. I win this one, Jeon.”

Saturday 02:57AM

“What’s taking so long, Y/N should be back by now,” Jin winced, eyeing the small watch on his wrist.

Taehyung and Mina looked at each other, “do you think it worked?” Mina questioned, a beaming smile plastered across her face, “yup,” Taehyung crossed his arms proudly. “Operation tell-Y/N-to-get-polaroid-camera-because-Taehyung’s-too-drunk-for-his-own-good-so-that-she-could-be-trapped-in-the-same-room-as-Jungkook-and-make-up… Was a success!”

taglist: @selinashere @jjenjen @ladyartemesia @emsuzz @iamjiminsfloor @silvlyjmhwa

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk smut #fluff #angst #he won't know #fanfic

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zodiyack · 4 years

Text

The Woods

Requested by anon: Hi!could i please request a fic with jennifer check x fem reader where jennifer takes her out to the woods and admits she's a succubus?ooh and with some angst please?thanks! I love your work btw!💞

Pairing: Jennifer Check x Female!Reader

Warnings: Slasher stuff, swearing, mention of murder, Jennifer Check, slight angst

Words: 967

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I suck at angst sometimes. This is one of those times lmao

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow

Masterlist | Slasher Masterlist

“C’mon.” She took Y/’s hand, a seductive look practically etched into her features. It wasn’t a new look for Jennifer, but it seemed to always catch Y/n off-guard like the first time she’d seen her. “Almost there.”

It was ironic. The topic in one of their many classes together recently was about the Pied Piper Of Hamelin. It seemed as if the drawls of Jennifer’s voice was the music, Jennifer the pied piper, and Y/n, one of his victims.

“Where are we-” A finger touched her lips, staying only a few seconds more before slowly sliding down and returning to Jennifer’s side. Just as Jennifer promised, they were there within less than three minutes. The woodsy surroundings felt mysterious and dark. Ominous even.

“Sit.”

“Where?”

Jennifer led Y/n to a tree stump, shoving her down onto it lightly. She then walked back to the center somehow perfectly shaped by trees. Y/n only began to realize something was off when Jen began pacing back and forth as she muttered to herself.

“Jen...are you okay?” Her head snapped up threateningly. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll back off. Take your time.”

Pressing her lips together tightly, Y/n tried finding something else to entertain herself with while she waited for Jennifer. Except- it felt almost impossible. With her worry for Jennifer stuck in her mind; she couldn’t distract herself without checking on the brunette every few seconds.

The pacing was unlike Jennifer. The woman was confident, sexy, had a way with people in which she hardly had to do anything. However, pacing? She never felt the need to do it. Not only was it unlike her, but it was nerve-wracking for Y/n, who had known Jennifer for many years.

It felt like hours had gone by before Jennifer finally began talking. She sat beside Y/n yet directed her focus to the ground for a few more minutes. Y/n could swore she could hear Jennifer’s heart racing inside her chest, the sweat dripping from her forehead practically invisible but there.

“There is something I need to tell you. You can never repeat it and you can never ever use it against me. I need you to promise me that... And another thing.” Y/n’s quirked brow urged her to continue, “Promise me that you won’t freak out...”

“I- I ...promise? What’s wrong?”

“I...” She inhaled sharply. Jennifer’s eyes were clenched shut, as if what she was about to say was the deepest secret she had. It came as another shock to Y/n; the two were always honest with each other... A bit overly-honest, one might say.

“It’s alright, take as long as you need, cutie.”

“Thanks...” Y/n’s hand came to rub her shoulder, eliciting a small glance from her. “Needy has um... Told me something.”

“Needy? What’d she tell you? Is it about me?”

“No, no. It’s about...me. And...it’s the truth.”

Y/n’s expression dropped to a lazy glare. “You said that last time. And the person called you a bitch.”

“Uh- I’m ‘that bitch,’ correction, but let me finish, okay?” Jennifer giggled softly as she rolled her eyes playfully. “I...the best way I can explain it is that...I eat people.”

The girl sitting beside her stared before she began cackling with heavy laughter. Upon Jennifer’s lack of joining in, and the ball of fear that dropped into her gut, she realized it wasn’t a joke.

“What the fuck- L-like a zombie?”

“No... I’m not dead, am I?”

“I- not really...” Y/n itched the back of her head while she made sure there was distance between her and the person she thought to be Jennifer Check. “Are you some kinda body-stealer?” A gasp left her mouth as her own theory made her heart race faster than before. “Are you going to eat me and steal my body?”

“No!” Jennifer threw her hands in the air, speed walking towards Y/n, who continued walking backwards, until she was trapped against a tree. “Needy told me some fucked up myth-shit about being a succubus. I didn’t believe her but when proof was shown... I eat people, Y/n.”

“Y-y-you- w-what?” The panic and terror Y/n was feeling shined through her eyes and hurried breaths. Jennifer normally would console Y/n when she hyperventilated but she was too far deep into the confrontation.

“Ya know,” a mocking laugh left her lips, “I would be disgusted with myself but- now that I’m like this... I feel like a badass bitch! I’m beautiful, hot, sexy, awesome-”

“A-a cannibal-”

“Eh...that too, but look what it makes me, Y/n! I’m immortal, forever young, forever fucking sexy! I-”

“Are you going to e-eat me?” Y/n’s question made Jennifer frown and redirect her attention back to her. “Like the g-guys... o-o-or-”

“I’m not going to eat you. If you get on my nerves I might-” A corner of her mouth lifted but quickly dropped when Y/n didn’t react to her joke. “No. I could never bring myself to eat you. The temptation is there, but I just can’t do it.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Don’t be such a pussy! I told you, I will never ever eat you. I swear it on my immortal life. Okay?” Her arms opened, inviting Y/n eagerly.

A couple minutes and simple nod later, Y/n was in Jen’s embrace. She held her close, preparing for a bite to prick her skin, and when it didn’t, she smiled a little. Y/n calmed as they pulled away slowly. “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, sure! Just uh... Remember what I said, okay?” She slung her arm over Y/n’s shoulder, leading her out of the now darkening forest.

“Mhm...”

“However, I won’t hesitate to eat anyone that is an asshole to you.” Y/n let out a nervous laugh, widened eyes switching from Jennifer’s face to the ground in attempt to see if she was serious or not.

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bytheangell · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Can I request a Thomastair based on the song, Be Kind by Halsey and Marshmallow? ❤ I loved your fic, Progress is a Process btw.

The Push and Pull of Kindness (Read on AO3)

Thomas wants to believe the best in Alastair, he really, truly does. Despite Alastair’s own actions in the past and the grudges held against him by Matthew and James, Thomas tries his best to be there for him. Thomas can tell that Alastair needs support right now even if he won’t admit it.

See, Alastair confided in Thomas about Charles. Thomas wonders if he’s the only one Alastair told because Thomas can see the way Alastair avoids Charles now and notices the pointed way Charles looks everywhere but at Alastair when addressing them in group settings…. But he thinks he’s the only one who notices. Maybe he’s just the only one who cares enough to look.

“Hey,” Thomas says, catching up with Alastair before he can leave. They held a short meeting at the Institute that Charles was present at, and though he put on a brave face Thomas saw how upset Alastair was as he turned to leave the first chance he got. “Alastair, wait.”

“I’m in a hurry, Thomas,” Alastair says quickly, not pausing.

“I can see that. And I get it. I just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” Thomas manages to say, a bit out of breath from needing to practically run to catch up to Alastair.

“I’m fine,” Alastair says, the words short and empty.

“You’re not,” Thomas insists.

“Then why ask if you already know the answer,” Alastair snaps, stopping to round on Thomas accusingly. There’s heat in his eyes but Thomas instinctively knows it’s not really aimed at him, even as their gazes lock.

“Because I hoped you’d be honest with me,” Thomas admits. “I thought… maybe you’d want someone to talk to.”

“I-,” Alastair starts, and for a fleeting moment of hope, Thomas thinks he’ll agree. Then just as quickly Alastair’s gaze shifts to a spot over Thomas’ shoulder. “I don’t. Go back to your friends, Lightwood.”

Alastair’s cold tone feels like a slap, as does the use of his last name. Thomas wonders if he means it or if he’s just saying it for Thomas’ benefit, so Matthew and James don’t give him a hard time for talking with Alastair.

“I don’t care what they think,” Thomas says quietly. “You know that, don’t you? If you need someone, even just a friend, I’ll be there. Just say the word.”

“I’m fine,” Alastair insists one last time, before turning and walking away.

Thomas watches him leave with a sigh before heading back to his friends. They’ve gotten better at not poking Thomas about his friendship with Alastair, even though they dislike it. Thomas does his best not to glare daggers at Charles, trying not to make it obvious what he and Alastair were discussing, and suggests they leave before he does something foolish.

After that meeting, Thomas goes out of his way to talk to Alastair every day, no matter how often Alastair shuts down any attempt at a serious conversation. He volunteers to deliver messages to the Carstairs family whenever possible in the hopes that Alastair will be the one who answers the door, just to see him. He even bribes Mr. Herondale to put them on the same patrol rotations.

It takes a bit of wearing down, but soon Alastair is beginning to open up to him. Their conversations grow easier and easier until it feels a bit like Paris all over again with the startling simplicity of how well they seem to fit. Thomas wants them to be something more than friends, but he doesn’t push it. Right now, Alastair just needs someone on his side, someone he can trust, and Thomas is more than happy to be that person for him.

The only issue is that Alastair refuses to talk about anything serious or meaningful. Any time the topic shifts to Charles or something else Thomas thinks is bothering Alastair, Alastair changes the subject to local demon activity, or the plot of the latest book he’s reading, or something safe. They’re getting along great, but it’s entirely superficial, and it’s more than a little frustrating.

Still, everything is going well enough until the day of Cordelia and James’ engagement party when Matthew tells him the truth about the rumors started about their parents. The rumors Alastair started. Thomas doesn’t want to believe it, and even when he knows it's true there’s a part of him that still wants to talk to Alastair about it.

Except, he thinks to himself bitterly in his anger, what good is talking when he obviously can’t trust Alastair to be forthright with him? And it isn’t as if Alastair is willing to discuss anything serious with him, and this? This is as serious as it gets. This is his family.

So Thomas allows his frustrations to get the better of him.

Perhaps threatening to punch Alastair if he ever approaches him or his friends is a bit overkill, but Thomas thinks that after a betrayal of this magnitude he deserves a bit of dramatics. Instead of feeling satisfied when he spots Alastair turning with shimmering eyes to leave the party, however, all Thomas feels is worse.

He continues to feel worse the next day, and the day after that. He can’t even ignore the pain Alastair is obviously in because Matthew points it out at every turn to revel in it, noting when Alastair skips training and rearranges his patrols to be alone or with Cordelia instead of any of them.

Finally, a week after the last time he spoke to Alastair, Thomas manages to pull Cordelia aside.

“I wanted to ask after Alastair,” he says, doing his best to sound casual.

Cordelia, to his surprise, smiles. “That’s interesting,” she says. “Because he asked after you just yesterday.”

Thomas tries not to show how secretly glad he is to hear that. “Oh?”

“And it seems to me that perhaps the two of you should simply ask one another,” Cordelia continues pointedly.

Thomas looks guilty, and more than a little embarrassed.

“I’m afraid I ruined any chance of that,” Thomas admits.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Cordelia replies. “Mother will be out after noon tomorrow, and if you happen to come by I’ll make sure my brother answers the door.”

With that, Cordelia heads back to the others, leaving Thomas to debate his plans for the following day.

---

Thomas knocks at the door and waits. The longer the knock goes unanswered the more he worries that maybe Cordelia told Alastair he was coming and this is Alastair intentionally avoiding him. Perhaps he could knock again, or maybe he should just leave, or--

Alastair opens the door, takes one glance at Thomas, and looks as if he’s about to shut it in his face a moment later. He doesn’t, to Thomas’ relief.

“Cordelia is busy at the moment,” Alastair says instead, his tone cold. “But you can come in and wait if you must”

“Actually,” Thomas says, fidgeting a bit with the hem of his sleeve. “I’m here to speak with you. If you’ll allow me.”

Alastair considers this and Thomas waits in silence that, despite being only seconds long, feels as if it stretches on for hours.

“Come in,” Alastair says finally, stepping aside to let Thomas enter. “We can talk in the study.”

Thomas can’t help but look pleased with this, allowing himself a small smile in spite of his nerves as he enters the Carstairs home.

“Right,” Thomas says, once they’re situated in the study and there’s no more putting the conversation off. “I guess I’ll start.”

Thomas takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he says, though the words scream of not enough, they’re the best starting point he has.

Alastair looks incredulous. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas repeats. “And I’ll say it as many times as I have to until you believe I mean it. I’ve spent so much time trying to convince you that you can trust me and confide in me. Saying I’d be there for you… and then I ruined that in one fit of anger rather than taking the time to talk about it, or even think about it properly first. I know you’ve changed since the Academy, I know that better than anyone, and I shouldn’t have been so quick or so severe with my reaction at the party,” Thomas says. Once the words start it sounds as if they tumble out of Thomas’ lips in a rush. Indeed, he takes a moment to catch his breath after.

Which is good, because Alastair looks as if he needs more than a moment to process all of that.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Alastair says finally. “I should be the one apologizing. What I did back then, what I said- it’s unforgivable. Matthew has every right to hate me for it, as do you, and if I were a better person I would’ve admitted to my role in it sooner. I’d hoped it’d stay in the past, that I’d never have to see that look of disappointment that crossed your face when you found out, even if I deserved that and so much more.”

Their words hang heavy between them. There’s the comfort of the apologies, but this transgression feels too big to be solved by a few words.

“You should know,” Alastair adds slowly. “I wanted to show up at your door every day for the past week and apologize. ”

“Why didn’t you?” Thomas asks.

“Because I wanted to respect your wishes. I hurt you and you needed space and if I could do nothing else, I could at least give you that. For as long as you needed it - forever, if it came to that, though I wished desperately it wouldn’t.”

Alastair’s voice is soft, it’s fragile and vulnerable and everything Thomas knows no one but him gets to see. He also knows how difficult it is for Alastair to admit things like that, even to him.

“I don’t want space,” Thomas admits. “It might take more than one talk to put this behind us, but I do think we can move past this. But we both have to be honest with each other. It won’t work if you can’t come to me with things - anything, but especially things like this. Promise me?”

For the first time in the past week, Alastair smiles, and the sight of it warms Thomas’ very soul.

“Before I might not have been so sure, but I don’t think I could stand to lose you like that twice. I missed you dearly, Thomas. I know I had no right to, that it’s my own fault, but it’s the truth. So yes, I believe that’s something I can do.”

Thomas feels that familiar swoop in his stomach that comes so often when Alastair is entirely genuine with him like this.

“I missed you, too,” Thomas returns. He knows they’ll have to talk about it more, but he thinks they’ve done enough for one day. It’s a good start, and he doesn't want to push too much, too soon.

“I’ve also missed your literature updates,” Thomas continues. Alastair ranting to Thomas about the plot in whatever novel he’s picked up most recently has become a bit of a thing between them, and it’s just the sort of normalcy they need right then, Thomas thinks.

Alastair, who settles back into his chair as if preparing for a long rant, seems to agree.

“Forget the past week - the ending to my last book was horrendous and I’m not even going to bore you with the droll recounting of it. I’m not sure I could stand to relive it,” Alastair sighs. “However, this new book I picked up yesterday seems promising…”

Thomas settles in as well, glad he came here today. He knows it likely won’t be the last time one of them pushes the other away, but now he also knows that’s something they can come back from - something they both want to come back from.

As many times as it takes.

#thomastair #thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #tsc #tlh #I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK A MILLION YEARS #also tried out a bit of Thomas POV which I'm still feeling out a bit #also the plot got away from me a bit because my brain insisted on making it canon compliant #but I hope you like it!! <3 <3 #elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post #anon glamour activated #ask rune #elle talks too much

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Hyperfixation Corner | The 1982 Formula One World Championship, Part 4 | The Triumph of Keke Rosberg and the Grief of Ferrari

there are wacky seasons in formula one. some have 5, 6 drivers fighting for the championship right until the end. there are mid-season changes. but then there is one who separated weak boys from repressed men and created the collective generational trauma for those who went through the absolute fucking hell that was 1982 formula one world championship. fittingly enough, the person who won it wasn't the greatest winner, but almost literally the one left standing.

background: the fisa-foca war

physics for psychopaths: the killer regulations of the 70s-80s

heating the tires: the drivers strike in kyalami!

the 1982 formula one world championship, or, the triumph of keke rosberg and the grief of ferrari

this is the fourth (and last!) part of a series i'm doing this week, fruit of a month of investigation and bingewatching. please consider giving me any sort of sign of life once you read it! liking and reblogging is great, but comments and asks are just fine too! even just a letter saying "dumb" will suffice. we also touch some heavy topics - even though i don't go into detail - so please be careful as you read it! thanks a lot, today especially to those of you who are supporting this series since the start of the week and those who have me heard despair about writing it! this work was a suggestion of the great @hurricanewindattack and while i have an idea of what i want to do for the next ones, i am always open to suggestions. thanks once more and let's FINALLY get to the rest of the series.

4) the 1982 formula one season, or, the triumph of keke rosberg and the grief of ferrari

I'm so tired, Robbie. We've already established that FISA and FOCA were going at it, that the car regulations were enough to ship a man straight to the moon and that the drivers were capable of creating a mosh pit and putting everyone inside it if they had to. We had ONE race and there is a strike then everyone gets suspended. I have to say you guys, it's only downhill from here. There were 15 or so races and everything happened, so prepare for 2 paragraphs per race in this bitch. I'm not sorry, honestly, you are embarking on this journey with me knowing fully well what i'm capable of.

After the whole South Africa shenanigans - which, btw, was won by Alain Prost, with Carlos Reutemann's Williams standing between him and his Renault teammate René Arnoux in the top 3 - and the cancellation of the Argentinian Grand Prix, Brazil was going to host the second race of the season in March (that, to be honest, feels like the proper beginning of the tournament). Curiously enough, it's during this race weekend that Nelson Piquet gives one of the most accurate interviews of his life, unfortunately:

The race wraps with Piquet and his new water cooled brakes Brabham winning in his home soil, so tired that he fainted on the podium celebrations, while Keke Rosberg was on second using the same technology and Prost was in third alongside his turbo charged car. The footage is so unintentionally funny, when Nelson faints Keke was looking the other way so it's a domino effect in slow motion while Alain looks like he has no idea what's happening.

However, FIA thought the new tech was a bit sketchy. There's not even any "Physics" tbh, basically the "water cooling" technology were two heavy tanks of water that would make the car heavier for pre-race weighing. Throughout the race, the cars would just empty their tanks and become lighter (and faster) and because this was the 80s, they would be allowed to re-fill them before the post-race scrutineering so it went back to legality. When the morons at FISA realised they were let had, they took away both Nelson's win and Keke's podium - since both Brabham and Williams had similar rig - gifting first place to Prost. Bernie was livid and here go hell come. Again.

Note: it was here that, in Carlos Reutemann's end, he decided to be done with racing. He had seen it all anyway, the glory of a championship, the accidents and the politics of F1. The bottom line for him was that, besides everything that was going on, he was an Argentinian driving for a British team in the height of the Malvinas war. It was time to let the fat lady sing and hit the door.

They moved on to Long Beach for the first out of THREE grand prix they would hold in the United States this year and at this moment everyone was lost in the sauce AND in the game to be honest. Ferrari decided to show up to the grand prix with two rear wings (SIDE BY SIDE), just to show the extent of the regulations' stupidity. They were like "we either don't get disqualified and you look dumb bc you allowed this or you disqualify us and look dumb because this is technically what you HAVE been allowing all along." Like, thank you, but also, why? Also, can the SF21 be like this.

The way even with a Wacky Races-worthy car he still managed to have an exciting battle with Keke and almost got podium....

TBF, it went well, since the guy who was driving it, Gilles Villeneuve, got to third after all, following Niki Lauda in his first win since returning from retirement and Keke Rosberg's now legal Williams. However, because Ken Tyrell was salty, Ferrari's double winged car got disqualified and gave place to Riccardo Patrese. Can you sense the running theme here? No? OK, i'll give you a few more races.

Oh, by the way, remember the whole appeal about the Brabham wet car? It got denied by FIA's court of appeal and Nelson and Keke lost their podiums. Bernie was throwing a HUUUUGE temper tantrum over it since the water cooling system was basically his first way of responding to the bitching turbo charged cars of the manufacturers and going toe-to-toe with them. Most of the other FOCA teams were like "Bernie shut the fuck up no one noticed that we also have water cooled cars" but it was too late. One for all and all for one and we were heading to YET another episode of the FISA-FOCA war on the opening round of the European leg at the Autodromo di Imola.

Again, these men were slick - call them Pirelli tires. Bathed in baby oil. FOCA needed to find a way to look, so they come up to FISA like "hey babes so the San Marino GP is right on the way and you guys are saying that our water tanks aren't that cash money so can we have one more week so we can get these guys off blease?". FISA, of course they would, just said "naur". and then they went "oop! i guess we have to boycott the grand prix then! can't help being constructors!".

Race week comes, only Ferrari, Alfa Romeo and Renault are there - the turbo charged girlbosses at FISA. Toleman arrives shortly after since they were so new to the game they couldn't even join FOCA yet, followed by two smaller FOCA teams, ATS and Osella, who claimed they were also getting fed up with the situation but in reality? They were just happy they would probably be able to qualify all their cars. The last team to join, hilariously so, was fucking Tyrell, one of the key players at FOCA who were practically broke - they spent two years without any sponsors before signing with Candy and Imola Ceramica, two Italian companies who OBVIOUSLY would want them to race in Imola.

Yep, only 14 drivers in a grand prix, just a bit over half of what the season so far had seen on the grid and the triple of total cars in F1 contention that year. Easy race then, right?

Ok, so far in this post i have been relatively quiet about Ferrari, which, honestly, usually means trouble. In context, even though in pre-season the terrific Ferrari 126C2 was incredibly fast and seemingly reliable by the way, if you want to see pictures of the babe that the 126C2 was, look no further: @hurricanewindattack's paper crafts have far more details than any other pictures could do it justice and I HIGHLY recommend you guys check their blog out.

What more could you want? Look at that suspension, baby!

However, the dream team led by Pironi and Villeneuve hadn't managed to capitalise on it, with Didier only having one point after the first three races and Gilles none after his DSQ in Long Beach. When they arrived to the sacred ground of Imola and found out that it was basically going to be a battle between them and Renault to sort out who would take the win, it wasn't a matter of if, but who for Ferrari. The actual race started with a Renault 1-2, but luck played a factor into it when both of those went kaput and Villeneuve and Pironi inherited their positions.

Indeed, there was no need whatsoever anymore for them to race the rest of the grid, they might not have had as much experience with the turbos in comparison to Renault's but they still had a turbocharger and with their competition in the pits, it was fiiiine. They could in theory race each other, but this was just race four of the year and there would be plenty more opportunity for them to do so over the next 12 races. It was, therefore, quite vital in Ferrari's eyes that they brought the full points to the team at the end of the 60 laps: no mistakes, no tomfoolery, no mechanical failures.

The order was simple: slow down. By simple, I mean that the more you think about it the less you get it. Like, what does it mean, do they want these guys to just lower their speed but keep the fight or do they want them to basically vibe and bring the car home? Pironi thought the first option, while Villeneuve thought the second. So, when Didier first overtook Gilles, he was like "bestie is so thoughtful of our tifosi crowd trying to make it interesting for them :D let's go bestie!"... but two laps later when Pironi still was in the lead, it was ON. They battled hard, Gilles got the lead back only for Pironi to snatch it back from his hands in time for the checkered flag.

Gilles was mad. GOOPED. He refused to take part in the post-podium victory lap and left the GP storming, saying that he would never speak to Pironi again and that they would settle the score.

I'm kinda obsessed with the concept of post-race clarity when the driver that gets the best out of it just comes out of his trance and realised what he did. Didier's little podium smirk just screams "oh boy I am SO FUCKED after this," it's brilliant.

The garages couldn't even try to make it better considering the poetic nature of a team order such as "slow down" meant that not even Mauro Forghieri and Marco Piccinini, then Ferrari head engineer and team principal, respectively, quite knew where they wanted to get at. Gilles, I believe, spoke every single profanity you could imagine about Pironi and declared their friendship was over and they weren't on speaking terms anymore. Pironi was ok with it, since his POV was that he hadn't done anything wrong. Let the racing do the talking? Even better, let the drivers do the talking immediately after the race as they always do.

Pironi: People seem to think we had the battle of our lives! I was coasting those last 15 laps. The 'slow' sign means only to use your head [... not that] if you think you can win, don't do it.

Villeneuve: I've declared war. Absolute war. Finishing second is one thing – I'd have been mad at myself for not being quick enough if he'd beaten me. But finishing second because the bastard steals it…

The fact is that when they got to Zolder for the Belgian Grand Prix, they were interested in settling the score on track. I'm not going to say the details here, there's no need for that. All you need to know is that Pironi had locked sixth place during qualis 0.1 seconds ahead of Gilles, who went for a fast lap with 10 minutes left on the clock. When he got to it, Jochen Mass was riding slower than him, and in a misunderstanding they both turned at the same time to let each other through, kind of like we do with strangers on the street. Unfortunately, it was a racing incident Gilles would never recover from and his passing was confirmed on the same day. It didn't even take the confirmation for Ferrari to withdraw from the grand prix, only finding a "replacement" for Gilles in Patrick Tambay 4 rounds later.

It's a romantic idea, I think, to speculate about how Gilles went all in because he was careless and all he could think about was beating Pironi, but the bottom line is: driving was incredibly dangerous, claiming people every season - time elapsed between that Piquet quote and the Belgian GP was less than two months. It's true that drivers can't really think too much about the ephemerality of life or else they might lose the spark, but this was particularly valid for that period between the 70s and 80s when the teams were so lost in their own games of beating each other that they weren't concerned about how that would impact the people inside the cars - and to be fair, at 1982 drivers were clearly as I have stated so far highly dedicated to improving the safety regulations. Fuck, Zolder held the grand prix in Belgium only because 10 years prior to this the drivers had refused to drive in a much more deadly configuration of Spa-Francochamps! It was raining, but there was 10 minutes left to try to improve his time and a driver from Gilles Villeneuve's caliber just had to have faith in himself and in his car (a Ferrari, nevertheless) to be able to pull this one through. In fact, there is a quote from after his accident in 1980 that goes like "You know, I am content, because I hit the wall at 280 km/h and the car took it - resisted it. That means the car is solid and I can drive it like that again". Holding Didier Pironi accountable for something like this (directly or indirectly) or even Gilles himself for being "reckless" is just completely ignoring the context of what was Formula One back then.

This isn't related to any of this, this is just a cute gif of Gilles in Brazil. To lighten the mood.....

Either way, the fact is that the GPDA's official statement, ran by Didier Pironi himself, painted the picture as inevitable due to the recklessness of the ground effect cars:

We have been protesting since the start of the season. The cars have become too dangerous. The conflicts of interest in Formula 1 are stronger than all the feelings about safety. We proclaim that it is necessary to get rid of the lateral skirts. Gilles’s death is a dramatic consequence of ground effects. The cars are at the limit of their adherence and flat to the ground. And they go faster and faster. At the least shock they take off, transformed into an uncontrollable missile. Since the introduction of ground effects and wings, the cars have made incredible progress in the corners. At the place where Gilles had his accident you’re doing 250-260 km/h. A few years ago, when skirts didn’t exist, we were doing only 180 km/h.

The rest of the race weekend was also chaotic, with only 9 cars finishing (and Niki's being disqualified after the race due to its weight) and John Watson getting p1, with Keke and Eddie Cheever from Ligier right behind him. We also had Scuderia Fittipaldi's last F1 point scoring race, with Chico Serra getting 1 point in P6.

Note: it's not a fun fact per se, but it's heartfelt - at the time of his death in 1987, Didier Pironi's girlfriend was pregnant with twins. The two boys were named Didier and Gilles after the Ferrari duo, and some of you might recognise this name since Gilles Pironi is currently an engineer for Mercedes and went to the podium to receive their 2020 British Grand Prix trophy. Time is a flat circl- [gets sniped]

I know you are probably done with the championship play-by-play at this point but we need to talk. I'm not particularly religious, actually you could say I am quite a skeptic at the end of the day but I do believe that there are things out there stronger than us, whether it's our psyche or the paranormal. This comes into play in Monaco, the first round after Gilles' death. The range of feelings of those there was from kinda weirded out to full grief according to whoever you talked to - although I remember Murray Walker saying "this is the most pornographic race I've ever been to" if I'm not mistaken. The audio feed from F1TV is very weird sometimes. Gilles was the previous year's winner and many people saw him as the face of Monaco, since he lived there and loved the city. but you know, the show must go on etc. And overall, I think besides Ferrari, everyone was dealing with it as they could (repressing their feelings, babeh!).

René Arnoux was leading the GP up until lap 15 when he just spun all by himself and stalled his car - out. The lead was inherited by Alain Prost, who kept it pragmatic while the cars around him started to have failures of all sorts: engines, oil leakage, suspension, just turning off and saying "no," you call it, it happened. Even Keke, whose reliability at this point shouldn't have gone unnoticed, retired after a collision. Well, the barriers of the soul decided to merge with the barriers of the metaphysical world once and for all when there was but two laps left and it. started. fucking. raining.

Alain crashed. HARD. and with the car, gone were his hopes of scoring for the first time since Brazil and keeping the lead he had managed to build. Riccardo Patrese inherited it for one lap (and tbf to him, he was trying really hard for the whole thing to overtake Prost). Before he also spun and stopped, with Pironi managing over half a lap in P1 before his car started slowing down in the tunnel… because of fuel shortage. Don't fear though guys, because Andrea de Cesaris is busting through!!!! And stopping meters after Pironi also out of fuel. But it's okay, Derek Daly is charging through the track and he already can feel his fingers snatching the trophy from Prince Rainier's hands…… No, nevermind, his gearbox is fucked. Somehow during all of this Patrese managed to bump start his car and dragged himself to the checkered flag, wrapping this bullshit with it. If there is a video I will recommend (and embed just to make sure you guys know I'm not making this up), it's this one right here:

youtube

It was kinda cute even because Patrese gave Pironi a lift (a very dangerous one btw) so they could have their lap of honour.

After this hellish European leg, they headed back to North America to have a double header starting in Detroit. Looking back, it definitely wasn't as messy as it could have been: they did a street circuit but it wasn't ready in time and they only had 2 hours of practice in total for a Brand New Track before qualis on Saturday, and the second qualifying session happened in the rain. Yep, there were accidents and scenes but overall? Not bad, not bad. Watson-Cheever-Pironi weren't complaining on the podium, at least.

You can see the track was rough.... but somehow, rave reviews? Wasn't the worst race of the season imo.

The second part of the double header was held at the just renamed Circuit Gilles Villeneuve in Canada and things started off well with the Brazilians Chico Serra and Raul Boesel fighting it out after a free practice. However, as race day came things got dark again and it just sucks to have to write this one more time so I'll be brief. The lights took too long to turn green and as Pironi raised his hand to warn the cars behind him, they turned on. Raul Boesel followed the lights queue and clipped the Ferrari, spinning around. Most of the following cars managed to react to the accident and go around, except Ricciardo Paletti, who hit the stalled Pironi. Again, things got way too graphic and grim and Paletti didn't make it.

quick intermission: Riccardo Paletti

Sincerely, Paletti's death hits me harder than Villeneuve's (not that this is the death olympics at all). But unlike Villeneuve who gets remembered as being a most likely future World Championship, beyond his passing, Paletti was just racing for the second time in F1. Beyond that, many people just cite him (including myself, I suppose) when it's time to talk about the horrific details of what happened - looking up his name on YouTube means you will for sure come across with NSFL thumbnails. So, I just want to write a small paragraph about what he actually did in life that deserves to be celebrated.

Riccardo Paletti was born in Italy on 13 March 1958. He was an incredibly skilled athlete in his teens - he had a karate medal AND was called up for the national alpine skiing team. By chance, he had found himself in motorsports, after jokingly racing with his father when he didn't even have a drivers license yet! Known to be a calm, and shy person, he used to say it himself:

I haven’t a lot of friends and I find establishing a rapport with people of my own age particularly difficult. Doing sport is a way to be with other people, get closer to them. I’ve competed on the ski slopes, I’ve taken part in measured kilometre events on skis and then I came to car racing. It is a strange world but when I am inside the cockpit everything seems beautiful to me. And I feel happy.

He didn't have a particular stellar career in junior formulae before joining Osella for the 1982 season. He was, however, one of the few drivers back then who believed just knowing how to drive fast wasn't enough and his athlete background meant he took the mens sana in corpore sano way of life very seriously, focusing on exercising and having a healthy diet during his F1 stint. He was sponsored by Pioneer, who had faith in him even though he was a professional driver for only 4 years, and even though that showed whenever his car didn't fail him by itself during qualis, he was showing steady improvement in comparison to his teammate up until Canada. His family and friends have a small website dedicated to his memory (in Italian) and I was really moved by the testimonials they have.

I think this is the best video of Riccardo I managed to find, so I just did a gif. It's genuinely better to remember him like that than what happened to him in my opinion.

back to the season

Hooo boy. You can call that section of this write-up a mercury thermometer, because it was heavy af. Thankfully, during the middle of everything, Brabham were down bad. Of course there were good results (like the second place in the Dutch Grand Prix - in which btw Arnoux barely made it from a serious crash), but mostly not, specially considering their car was outlawed, their water cooling system as well, they had the currently reigning champion but there was about it. That plaque wasn't going to stop Brabham, because they didn't know how to read, and therefore they devised something for the next races that in English media became known as "The Ploy," but I like to call "The Bernie Ecclestone Master Plan".

The idea: race with less fuel, fly like a motherfucker ahead of the grid and build a 40 second lead so that when came back from the pits after refuelling for the second stint, they would still be in first and light af. When you think about it…. Galaxy brained and literally the standard that was held by the refuel era until the cars became good enough for them to afford to choose if they wanted a lighter or heavier car. Brabham also had the advantage of being a top tier team, so with brainiacs like Gordon Murray as their car designer and the slickness of Bernie, they were able to do The Monster Math and calculate how the tyres would wear off, how much the fuel would weight on their car, how could they make their fuel tank smaller and they ended up running with a brand new and improved version of their chassis onwards - they also had the advantage of FISA wanting them to change their car after the whole water cooled bullshit.

However, back in the day when the cars were a canned soup with wings and a fidget spinner for an engine, it was more of a bargain, and unbeknownst to Brabham, Toleman had also thought of the same thing, except they just cut to the chase and said "hey, we're gonna with half a tank, we're probably gonna crash anyway lol".

But overall, congrats to Brabham, great plan! Just a few points:

Issue 1: you have a brand new chassis and thus basically a new car;

Issue 2: you are in Brands Hatch for the British Grand Prix;

Issue 3: if God is real, she is probably in a manufacturer team and affiliated to FISA.

Even though they got the pole position last minute due to a failure in Keke's car during the formation lap and Patrese's also refused to start, while Piquet's dipped after 10 laps - it did kinda work though, since Nelson had managed to overtake 7 guys on the first lap to first place and was 1.4 seconds faster than the runner up before his fuel injection got away. The Bernie Ecclestone Master Plan became a secondary after thought as Didier Pironi took the lead of the championship after finishing second, between Niki Lauda (uwu he won again!) and Patrick Tambay, now a Ferrari driver. Needless to say, Toleman also ate shit.

The ploy went great!

Nevertheless, if there was one thing Brabham F1 Team didn't know was how to quit (and my god, sometimes they really should) and for the French Grand Prix coming up in Paul Ricard, they would try it again, for goodness' sake!! And they would fail again due to engine failures on both cars, for goodness' sake!!! to be fair as well, Patrese managed to lead the race from lap two until his retirement, handing over to Piquet, who did the same thing. plus, no one really focused on The Ploy going awry since René Arnoux's victory meant that he had violated a team agreement that stated that, in case Renault had a Arnoux/Prost 1-2, he would concede the lead to his teammate who was in the run for the WDC - huh funny how Prost always found himself in situations like these. Naur, hawld awn, let me speak about the petulance of that motherfucker: Prost went to the media to slate Arnoux's lack of team mentality and how he wasn't pragmatic enough, etc, but a while after said smth like "yeah, the team were kinda crazy to propose this to us when there wasn't a #1 and #2 driver, the] misjudged us... but I'm still kinda mad at Arnoux tho". I have no comments. [Victory's Theme playing LOUDLY IN the back]

I mean, to get the position from someone you at least kinda... need to get close to them, but what do I know about racing? What. Do. I. Know. About. Racing.

On other news, there is no better way to put this: Jochen Mass and his March got catapulted to the stands and caught on fire, leading to injuries on everyone who was close - no casualties, luckily! Immediately after his recovery, Mass' retirement from racing - not that he wasn't physically able to race anymore, it's just that fuck this shit, honestly.

There's a saying that goes "when it rains, it pours," and pour it did on Germany - quick note: wtf is this Hockenheimring - for both Ferrari and Brabham. the rainy weekend saw Pironi ahead of his competitors, locking himself on pole before qualis were even over. In a twist of fate - in this case the twist being a Möbius band i guess - Didier also went for a fast lap in the last moments of quali, he also saw a slower car ahead (Daly) of him a bit too late and he also swerved to avoid hitting him. This time, however, there was a second car just a bit forwards (Prost) and just like Belgium, a big shunt. 5 races from the start of the season, tifosi all around the world felt the loss of Gilles Villeneuve and now, 5 races to the end, it was time for the curtains to close on Didier Pironi, who fortunately survived, but with leg injuries so severe he would never be able to professionally race again.

In terms of the championship, this also meant that F1 was reaching the moment when a winner was supposed to start taking shape, and as the most likely WDC was now out, it was game on. Brabham was still investing in The Ploy and I can only imagine how serious they were about it in the garage - it's not like at this stage they had realistically speaking the chance to win anything, specially with Bernie more focused on taking over the world and FISA breathing on their neck any chance they could - but there is that ego and financial difference between 6th and 7th in the WDC. that all made it even more frustrating after Piquet's race lead was AGAIN fucked over, this time by the world renowned crash into the slow Salazar ahead of him. I have to defend Nelson on that one solely because Salazar at that point was renowned for glossing over blue flags and being a klutz. Either way, F1 history was made that day.

"For me it is not a problem when he starts to punch me, I have my helmet on. He can punch me all day and I don’t care. But when he try to kick me here..." - Salazar on the tussle...

Arnaux and Rosberg got a sweet podium, but the win went to Patrick Tambay. Yep, let that sink in, the guy who had retired after the Kyalami strike because he was too done with the politics bullshit in F1 had just won his first Grand Prix ever with Ferrari in a wet Hockenheimring. This is just pure concentrated 1982 championship juice. The only reason I'm not done here it's because we still have four more races, and luckily for us, the Austrian GP that followed wasn't that eventful.

Other teams were starting to consider The Ploy as a valid tactic, even though the Brabham hadn't managed to capitalise on it yet, and adopted variations of it. The Österreichring also marked the first win of Elio de Angelis in a Lotus, who by 0,05 seconds hadn't gifted it to Keke, still to have his first career win himself. It does go without saying that this was the last time that Colin Chapman would see his beloved team win, since he would pass away mere months later. Unfortunately we can't embed multiple videos on Tumblr posts and the Monaco wildness needs to be experienced, but I can't stress this enough: watch the last laps of Austria. Both Keke and Elio don't put a single foot wrong, this is close to driving perfection honestly.

Heading back to France, this time in the Dijon-Prenois circuit for the *fixes glasses* Swiss Grand Prix…. Things were spicy with Prost, Watson and Rosberg wanting to eat their way into the lead that was still held by Pironi, Keke holding the advantage because he was the only one who didn't get constantly bombarded by car issues. My good bitch Keke did his homework and even though he started on P8, the mad lad just bust through the track and overtook one by one until he got to the race leader Prost on the last lap and GOT HIM TOO. There weren't any shunts, any cars on fire, this was genuinely just guys being dudes and clean racing. Well, de Cesaris TRIED Keke, who was having none of it.

It took him one more lap than necessary as the race director conveniently forgot that there were 80 laps, not 79 - which they attempted to do - nor 81 - which they DID do - but he came out a winner anyway, followed by Alain and Niki <3.

Let's just take some time together to appreciate this man FINALLY got a win in this season from hell

McLaren were also grateful that Niki had made it to the end, but John Watson falling out of points meant that Ferrari still sat at the top of the WCC even though [points at the entire 1982 Ferrari season]

Note: To make matters more interesting the gap did close down between Ferrari, Renault and McLaren, the three teams ahead of the battle for the constructors' championship, since Ferrari didn't have a replacement for Pironi and Tambay skipped the race due to a pinched nerve.

It was time for MONZA, BABY! Easy peasy win for Arnoux who led the entire race even though he had started it in P6. Arnoux was on a ROLL by the way, since he had been announced to be part of the 1983 Ferrari line up, with Mario Andretti warming the seat for him as Pironi's replacement for the last two races of the season. Andretti didn't behave badly either, locking pole position and a podium for the last time in his career, Tambay there to watch. For the championship, the battle was alive for both constructors - with Ferrari the most likely winners after the duo podium but Renault and McLaren still having a chance after terrific results - and drivers - since Keke was miraculously out of points while his direct competitor, John Watson landed in 4th.

The tifosi celebrating like mad men their "1-2-3" podium in Monza. Notice the "GILLES FOREVER" message written on the circuit. Oh my God I am UNWELL.

We finally arrived in 1982's swan song. Perhaps call it a duck jingle actually, because they went to Las Vegas for a street circuit in Caesar's Palace. People might have liked it, I honestly don't think so because the track layout genuinely said "M". This is so fucked up I HAVE to share the circuit:

Anyway, to cleanse our palates, time to do the math:

So far, Keke had a 9 point lead over the second place, now John Watson. The point system was 1 point for P6, 2 for P5, 3 for P4, 4 for P3, 6 for P2 and 9 for P1… Wow. So, ideally, for Watson to win this, he needed both to win the race and for Rosberg to be out of points. In this case, their net score would be the same but Watson had one more win in his bag. The maths for McLaren or Renault to get the championship was more complex, but tbh the gist of it was that they needed to do as well as possible and hope that at least one of drivers from their competitors didn't score.

Drama filled the race as leader Arnoux had to drop out and with him, Renault's chances of winning the WCC. Watson drove the race of a lifetime, dropping from 9 to 12 and then recovering to second, while Keke played it safe. Michele Alboreto, the saint, decided to sort it all out by himself and become the 11th race winner of the season - we have a record, laid ease! - and although both Ferraris were out (Tambay suffering from his pinched nerve again and Andretti from from a broken suspension), Niki's early race retirement meant that Kohn Watson hadn't made the necessary scores by himself to win the championship for McLaren as well. Ferrari had managed to "overcome" their worst season ever with a consolation trophy (if you take a look at it, the F162C was the balance between reliabilty and speed that the rest of the grid lacked one way or the other) while Keke Rosberg's amazing persistence and solidity being rewarded with one of the most controversial yet earned titles in F1 history.

Arguably, the greatest legacy of 1982 was the push for greater safety and the ban on ground effects aero, with a now mandatory flat undertray wrapping the Venturi tunnels party and bringing back stability to the cars - enough so that F1 only saw tragedy as great as what had happened here again in 1994 (yup). As to FISA and FOCA, they actually calmed down to standard bickering as Bernie realised that if you can't beat them, then kinda join them and decided to make his way into the status quo since he had the commercial rights and thus the money anyway. Mostly, people got on with their lives and went on, trying to repress the memories of the season the same way I'm going to after sinking my head 50 feet deep into the whole lore for about a month.

My conclusions on the whole thing? First of all, even though most of young folk tend to think of Nico Rosberg as the Worthy Champion in the father-son duo for spending three years of his life fighting the Silver War while his dad only won once during his championship season, Keke had to live through deaths, unreliable death machines and politics from every side of the paddock, turning up consistently in the podium while everything happened. Put some respeck on Keke's name. Men are petty and I wish no one had died, basically, there isn't much to conclude. Well guys, that's all for this lifetime of Hyperfixation Corner. I'm officially retiring and I will delete my Tumblr in 2-4 business days. Nah, just kidding, see you next time and thanks again for the support <3 Screw you guys, I'm going home!

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #hyperfixation corner #1982 f1 world championship #keke rosberg #gilles villeneuve #didier pironi #niki lauda #john watson #alain prost #rene arnoux #guys i'm not strong enough i can't tag everyone #but anyway IT'S DONE #pls give me meowdies here it's a long post but you will never read something as close as well researched as this without it being the season

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

Note

Hi love! 💓 💓 can you pls write a fic of Chris and y/n meeting in at Yale (where they don’t like each other at all) she being too sensitive and him being too cocky but he secretly liked her the whole time. Never got along or anything. Then they meet again years later in the city, and become friends and fall in love. But with smutty included. Love your lawyer fics ❤️😩😩 so pls make this happen 🙏🏻

Time Will Tell: Part One

note: Hiii, I decided to split this request (which I love btw) into two parts, the second one will drop either Sunday or Monday :) this part is more background story/buildup, hope you enjoy!

words: 3k

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst (??)

“That’s the final one.” Your father grunted as he put down the last huge box on the floor of your dorm room.

“Thank you so much, dad, you’re my hero.” you said, hugging both of your parents tight.

“We’re really proud of you, Y/N. You are going to do so amazing.” You mother whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Thank you so much, guys. I love you. Please give me a call when you get home.” You replied before embracing them one last time, and off they were.

You sighed happily, looking around the room that was going to be your home for the next four years. You were finally a pre-law student at Yale, a dream come true. You gazed out of the window overlooking the campus, beyond exited about all the things to come.

+++

“Alright, settle down.” The voice of your professor sounded over the chatter of your fellow classmates.

You quickly stopped talking with your newfound friend next to you and shifted your attention to the front of the class. It was your very first lecture, and you were almost giddy with excitement about the prospect of learning so much new stuff.

The professor had already started talking, reading out the book list for this semester when suddenly, the door slammed open, and a young man burst into the classroom. He was clearly out of breath, but still grinned at the professor.

“My apologies, Sir.”

His voice was cocky, and you felt an instant burst of dislike at the way he carried himself. He was handsome, tall and broad shouldered with a head full of curls and a winning smile. But it was obvious that he knew just how good he looked, everything about him gave you the impression of another rich, arrogant brat. Yale campus was full of them.

“Just see that it won’t happen again, Mr-?” The professor murmured, clearly displeased.

“It’s Cuomo, Sir.” The guy replied, still grinning, before slumping into the seat next to you.

Cuomo. That rang a bell. You would eat your hat if he hadn’t something to do with the New York Governor, he certainly looked like a politician’s son. You knew you were being slightly prejudiced, but your intuition about those kinds of guys had never betrayed you so far.

As if he could read your mind, the guy in question turned his head to look at you.

"Hi Sweetheart, what’s up? I’m Chris. “

Without even looking up from your notes, you replied.

"If that’s your way of flirting, it sucks. I’m Y/N and not your sweetheart, by the way. How about you pay attention to the lecture now before you get into even more trouble.” It maybe came out more vicious than intended, but you didn’t want this guy to think you would swoon over him just because he had a pretty face.

He just chuckled but turned back to the board.

You were fascinated by the topic of the lecture, eagerly listening and taking notes, the irritating young man next to you long forgotten. When your professor announced that you had to do a group assignment until next week, you promptly turned around to your friend, silently signaling that you wanted to form a pair.

But when the professor started to read out a list of names, your plans were crushed.

"And next we have Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Cuomo.“

"Oh, you can’t be serious.” you murmured under your breath, when someone poked your arm. You turned around and stared right into Cuomos smug face.

“Looks like you and I are having a date after all, sweetheart.”

Well Fuck.

+++

“Ok, we’re going to do it your way, but just because you’re annoying the hell out of me, and I want this to be over as quick as possible.” You groaned, scribbling something onto the paper in front of you.

Not that you would ever admit to it, but working with Chris went better than expected. Yes, he was cocky and arrogant to no ends, but apparently, he wasn’t only in Yale because of his family name. You bickered about almost every decision, but his ideas for the project were actually pretty good and once you got over his stupid jokes and constant unpunctuality, his company was bearable.

“I’m so glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius. My next suggestion is, once we’re finished here, how about you and I grab dinner somewhere together. You look like you’re in serious need of some fun.” He said, winking at you.

The nerve of the guy.

“You think my idea of a good time is going out with you? Wow, you‘re really full of yourself, Cuomo.”

A weird expression flashed over his face, but before you could name it, he was back to his usual smug grin.

“Your loss, sweetheart.”

+++

You got a good grade on your assignment, but we’re still relieved when the professor paired you up with someone else for the next one.

Outside of class, you rarely saw Chris, mainly because you were parts of different crowds. He had joined a fraternity and the football team, and you often spotted him hanging around with the other frat boys on campus.

To you, they were all cut from the same cloth, spoiled, rich boys who’s only concerns were the next party or if they could graduate in time to take over their daddy’s firm. Those were the kind of people you were trying to stay away from.

+++

It was the final party of freshmen year at the frat house, and you had a blast. There was good music and a lot of alcohol, you were glad your friends had managed to drag you along. The frat boys were there as well, obviously, but you paid them no attention while you danced and enjoyed yourself.

After the third round of shots, you were starting to feel slightly dizzy. Apologizing to your friends, you went outside to get some fresh air. In the garden behind the frat house, the dizziness got even worse, and you had to lean against a wall to steady yourself.

“Everything alright?” someone asked from behind you. It was Chris.

“Sure, Cuomo.” You replied, your voice already slurred. “Just had one or two shots to much.”

“You certainly had more than that.” he spoke, getting closer with a slightly worried look on his face.

“Jesus, you look smashed, Y/L/N. Maybe it’s better to go home?”

“Yeah, I probably should get going.” You agreed, feeling incredibly fuzzy by now, and as you tried to walk, you almost fell over your own feet.

“No way you’ll make it to your dorm on your own. I’ll take you.”

You were too drunk to argue with him, so you just murmured something in agreement and leaned a bit against Chris’s huge frame.

“You have so many muscles.” you whispered, but he still heard you and laughed.

“Oh my god, you’re totally wasted, you’re gonna regret this so much tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Luckily, the way to your hall wasn’t that long. Chris steadied you with and arm around your shoulder, almost dragging you up the stairs when you finally arrived.

You fumbled with the keys to your room, so he just took them from you to unlock the door.

“Here we are.” Chris announced, softly sitting you down on the edge of your bed. “Sleep, I’ll tell your friends that you’re home safe.”

With a groan, you sunk back into the pillows, closing your eyes.

Chris was still standing in front of your bed, as if he was unsure if he could leave you alone like that.

“You know,” he quietly spoke. “When I was asking you out, at the beginning of the year, I was kind of serious about that, I-…Y/N?”

But you had already fallen asleep, slightly snoring into your pillow.

Sighting, Chris ran his hand through his hair and gave you one last confused look before he left, softly closing the door behind him.

+++

Lucky for you, the next day was the first day of summer break. You were mortified about acting like an idiot in front of Chris Cuomo, but at least you didn’t have to face him for several weeks.

When the new semester started, the two of you saw each other in classes again, but he never brought the incident up. Instead, he went right back to being his insufferable, arrogant self, taunting you at every chance he got.

Your current class mainly consisted of discussions about the latest political and judicial affairs, and Chris and you ripped each other apart at every chance you got.

“You’re living in a dreamland, Y/L/N.” Chris drawled. “Face the facts, those tax increases for the top five percent or whatever it is you are suggesting, they won’t work. It would actually just hurt our economy, not that you understand anything about that. Also, your poker face is terrible” He pointed right at you, and a few of your classmates chuckled.

You almost lost your last drop of patience there and then.

“I am not sure what’s worse, Cuomo, the bullshit coming out of your mouth or your stupid-“

The professor interrupted you, ending the discussion before things could get really ugly.

+++

“I hate his guts.” You growled, taking an aggressive bite of your bagel. You were having lunch with two of your friends between lessons, and Chris Cuomo was a frequently brought up topic in your conversations.

“You certainly talk about him often enough to really make me doubt that.” One of your friends snickered, and the other one added. “You know that he watches you sometimes, right?”

“Bullshit, he hates me.”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure he looks at you with those big, blue, dreamy eyes because he despises you so much.”

“You have to admit, he is stupidly hot.” You friend sighted, “He’s so tall, and that face.”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Sure, he’s not exactly ugly, but his personality is. I’m praying we won’t have any more classes together next year or I might really punch him in the face one day.”

+++

Much to your chagrin, fate wasn’t on your side. Junior year rolled along, and again you had several classes with Chris. And as if that wasn’t enough, he started dating a girl you sometimes hung out with and became a regular guest at parties you and your friends were going to.

So not only were you almost killing each other every day in class, you bickered with him in the evenings as well, about every topic from beer brands to foreign policy. And still, when he ended your conversations to get back to his girlfriend, you always got a small sting of something that felt a lot like jealousy.

Since your friends had revealed to you that he was watching you from time to time, you had started to feel a bit restless around him. Somehow, he was able to get under your skin like no one else did, irritating you to a point where some days all you could think about was his stupid face.

Even if it was just to argue and fight, for some reason, you always gravitated to each other.

+++

“That’s it, I’m not listening to any more of your shit.” you shouted. Your latest argument had continued even after class has finished, and by now, you were walking through the hallways almost yelling at each other. People were already staring, and you had enough.

“The truth is hard to swallow, isn’t it?”Chris replied, his usually cool demeanor had dropped and by now he was just as angry as you were.

“The truth is, I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years now. You won’t convince me of anything and vice versa. I have better things to do than fight with you every day. Just leave me alone from now on, please.”your voice has gotten quieter with each sentence, and before you could display too much emotion, you turned around and left Chris standing in the middle of the hallway, a perplexed expression on his face.

This was the right decision, you thought. This guy meant nothing but trouble, and your infuriating relationship had to stop, you had your finals to focus on.

+++

The end of year parties always were a huge thing on campus, but this one was different for you. This was it, Senior year was over, there would be no coming back to Yale in the fall. Nostalgia and relief about the finished finals made you and your friends celebrate like it was your last night ever and beer and liquor were flowing.

You had received your acceptance letter from Georgetown Law some days before, and the opportunity to continue your education in Washington DC was another reason for you to party.

At some point though, the amount of drunk people was starting to become a bit too much for you, and you decided to retreat to the garden for a moment of quiet. As you walked around a couple of trees, you spotted a lonely figure sitting on a bench in the dark.

“Cuomo?” you asked, a bit staggered. Usually, the guy was the life of every party. What was he doing out here all alone?

As if he had read your thoughts, he spoke up. “I was just trying to get some last moments out here, were leaving campus in two days and this always was my favorite spot.”

Who was this guy, and what had he done to the menace you attended class with?

You hadn’t seen that much of him the past months, not after your last argument, but the memories of your numerous encounters were still very present in your head. You had thought about him more often than you’d care to admit.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a nature guy, Cuomo.” you replied “Unless you’d count the lawn on the football field.”

“That’s because you don’t know me, Y/N.” his voice was oddly cold as he looked at you, his eyes almost appearing black in the dark. You tried to ignore how handsome he looked and focused on your dislike for him instead.

“Oh, I know enough. You have shown me everything I need to know about you over the course of the last four years.” You snapped, the alcohol in your system was making your emotions run high.

Chris got up from the bench to plant himself right in front of you. He towered over you and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

The air between you was bristling with tension, he stood so close to you that your bodies were almost touching.

“Why, because I actually challenged you, delivered some real arguments against you? Until you chickened out?” He shot back, his voice growing louder, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you want to become a lawyer? Better learn to deal with that if you want to survive in court, that’s not a place for soft, overly sensitive people like you.”

“Are you kidding me, you condescending asshole? You don’t have the slightest clue about the life of ordinary people! You’re living in your little Chris Cuomo bubble where everything is perfect and there’s nothing daddy can’t take care of and call me sensitive? I’m thrilled to see how you will be able to handle yourself out in the real world.”you were yelling as well by now, just lashing out to hurt him the way he had hurt you with what he said.

“Don’t act like you fucking know anything about me.“ He shouted, his face clenched in a mask of fury. He opened his mouth to continue, but you spoke first, your voice flat now.

“You’re right. I don’t know you at all.” With that, you turned around and left the garden, running back to your dorm before anyone could see your tears. He would always be the same asshole, and you were mad at yourself for ever believing anything else.

+++

“Christopher Charles Cuomo.”

The crowd around you cheered, whistles and shouts erupting all over the place. Chris climbed the stage, looking unusually serious in his black robe and cap. He took his diploma, shook hands with the dean, and then turned around with the most brilliant smile on his face. He looked carefree, and happy, and when he raised his hand to wave at the crowd, your whole class hollered for him.

“He is so incredibly hot.” Some girl swooned behind you, and you just rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the little stab of sadness you still felt about how you parted ways with him two nights ago.

But when you looked up to the stage again, he was gone, and in that moment you realized that it was very unlikely that you would see Chris Cuomo ever again.

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #cnn #cnn anchors #fanfiction #request

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emerald-studies · 4 years

Text

Racism in Education

June 27, 2020

Day 6 of 7

[ These are just some thoughts I have in my head about this topic, it isn’t meant to be a purely academic discussion. It’s meant to be a conversation to learn about another perspective. ]

—-

Ok this will be my most challenging post. This is a long read but I’d appreciate you reading it all because I’ve been doing free emotional labor for almost a month and if you want to be an ally, that means learning from other perspectives. So please read. This drained me so much to write, please make it worth it.

You have the time, please read.

As I stated in my intro, I moved from a very conservative State (I don’t even want to say the State because I hate it so much.) to Washington State. I moved after graduating online school a year ago.

Growing up in that State I was almost always the only Black girl in my class. For my whole educational career. I hated when we would discuss the civil rights movement because I could feel my White peers staring at me, like I was the face of my race.

It was junior year that broke me.

I began the year optimistic. I always did, even though I had experienced racism before each year, pushing me to move to 4 different schools in 4 years.

I moved to a school in a rural area with a lot of mormons and maybe 5 Black people in the whole, huge school.

It was in September that my mental health plummeted. I don’t know why. I guess I was overwhelmed. I was in an AP US History class and there was work over the summer that everyone else did, but I didn’t. I had just gotten there, after all. I didn’t have the textbook. That class was such a heavy workload that we were having a quiz every other day, 1 test a week, and I was trying to study for a test that my peers had months to study for, and already took.

I attempted to take my life, but I knew I didn’t really mean it. I’ll be honest about that. I just wanted everything to stop so I could catch my breath.

I went to the ER on a Thursday night. My Mom drove me.

We sat in the ER for a little bit and then I was taken to a little room where a nurse came to talk to me. BTW I have never had a good interaction with a nurse.

This nurse came in and basically shamed me.

“You’re so young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need to do this to yourself.”

Yeah, no shit. I thought about that every day. My grades, getting into college, getting into law school.... that’s the point. I was overwhelmed.

She suggested that I punch a pillow if I “Got upset” because that’s what her daughter does.

Fuck off.

The Doctor came in and he gave me butterfly bandages and he was so much more understanding, shockingly. (I’ve shadowed Surgeons and Doctors and they can be a little abrasive).

I liked that the Doctor fixed me up. I liked having this wrap around my wrist. I felt like I could move on. Like I let something out.

The Doctor asked if I needed to stay at this place that dealt with cases like mine.

I said,

“No.”

I couldn’t have that on my record for what I want to do. So, I went home.

I took the Friday off and my Mom visited the school to let them know what happened. I was already preparing for pity.

I had to come in on Monday to set up a 504 (students with disabilities act) for depression. I don’t think I had depression, but whatever. I dropped out of AP US History.

They made accommodations for me: more time on tests, working in the library, more time on assignments, etc.

I want you to know that I did not touch those accommodations for 5 months.

I knew I didn’t need them. I maintained a 3.8 GPA.

I sat in a room with all 8 of my teachers (we had a block schedule 4 classes per day alternating), seeing all of them look at me with disgusting levels of pity.

They each talked to me in private saying things like,

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

“I’m here for you.”

“You matter.”

I thought,

“Hm ok, that’s nice.”.

I went on for months without using my accommodations and practically wooping my “normal” classmates in intellectual discussions.

But then the casual racism I experienced was escalating.

First, in the beginning of the year, my AP US History teacher put his hand on my head and said to a student,

“If you really believe that, Faith would be a slave right now.”

(I don’t remember what the hell we were even talking about)

Then I got little questions/comments like,

“Why do you dress White?”

“Cracker is just as offensive as the n-word”

But now we were going into Black History Month. My new history teacher was an old White Man and we were talking about the civil rights movement, while in English we were reading “Black Like Me” with my blonde, Female, millennial teacher.

I nailed everything in the civil rights movement discussions. The teacher loved me. I nailed the conversations about “Black Like Me”.

But....I don’t know. The environment got really toxic. There was more racism, gaslighting, slurs. Every. single. day. It could break anyone.

I would be on the brink of tears in class every day.

Guess who didn’t notice?

All 8 of those concerned teachers.

They don’t give a shit.

My grades were still pretty good, but I started working in the library. I couldn't be around all of those racist peers.

While in the library, my counselor would come in and interrogate me.

“How long have you been in here?”

“Have you tried, really tried to go to class?”

Of course I tried! I felt like I wanted to be dead and so I left. That’s what the 504 Plan was for. Again, I hadn’t touched my accommodations for months so I thought maybe these grown adults would use their tiny brains and think,

“Huh maybe she needs help.”

But no.

I would go to the counselor almost every day and say

“I’m not doing well.”

And she’d ask,

“What does that mean?”

Ok...so I have to tell this Woman that I feel like dying but not at my own hand? Because she can’t use social cues and read my face stained with tears?

I couldn’t say anything.

She said,

“What can we do to keep you going here?”

I said,

“I don’t know”

Because that’s not my job.

Then it happened.

My history teacher was talking about affirmative action.

He said,

“If I worked at a bank for 30 years and went to work at another bank, FAITH would get a job over me because she’s a BLACK WOMAN. Do you get that? She covers TWO minorities!”

He said this while pointing his wrinkled finger in my face.

None of my peers said anything.

I replied with,

“Well, what are my qualifications?”

He ignored me.

He went on a rant teaching his opinions, not facts. So I wrote down what he said on sticky notes.

I called my Mom at break and asked her

“Is that racist? Do I do anything?”

I was so desensitized to racism I couldn’t tell anymore.

My White Mom, my awesome Mom said,

“YES.”

I went to the Vice Principal and reported the teacher and gave her the sticky notes.

The next day we got an email from the principle saying that the teacher said, he never said anything about me.

So I was a liar?

To get evidence, I recorded the whole next class. I was scared every minute that he would find out.

He didn’t. And he said more awful things.

I had concrete proof.

We told the Principal and he ignored me. My Mom emailed the superintendent (very high up person in the school district) and oh now he responds?

They basically said,

“We gave him a warning, he won’t do it again.”

Ok so he just will hide his racism now. Just remember, teachers legally aren’t allowed to teach their opinion. The Supreme Court deemed it unconstitutional to teach opinions.

I was still required to go to this racist Man’s class. I still answered every question he posed to the class and he recognized my intelligence.

So WHY?

WHY me?

The whole year he loved having me as a student and then....that?

Moving on to my English class.

We had to do a cultural experience trip and so my acquaintance and I went to the Black History Museum. Because I’m Nigerian-American. I do identify as Black though because everyone assumes it anyways, but I wanted to learn more about the history in my city.

We were required to make presentations talking about the experience we had. I decided to add a little twist.

I made a whole slide in my slideshow dedicated to every racist thing said to me in that class.

The slide was met with laughter because racism is just so funny.

My teacher said nothing.

So I, the student, the minor in the room, had to say,

“I see you laughing but this is why I’m leaving this school. This is serious.”

Nothing from my teacher.

Cut to maybe a week later and I was done. I was sitting in my English class about to burst. My acquaintance asked me,

“Are you doing ok?”

I replied,

“No. Absolutely not.”

A classmate checked in on me, while all my 8 teachers who actually knew about my attempt on my life didn’t.

We went outside and I decided to leave the school that day. Three weeks before summer break. I couldn’t be in either class anymore. I felt my brain rotting from being exposed to the absolute shit that those students/teachers would spew, every day.

I lost my 3.8 GPA

I lost my credits for the semester.

The racist teacher is still working.

I had to go online.

It happened again.

Another racist history teacher.

Wasn’t removed.

I graduated with a lower GPA.

Didn’t apply to my dream school.

I have the trauma seared into my brain. I’m terrified of taking another history class. Terrified.

Ok, that’s it. If you made it this far, thank you. It took me awhile to write this. I hope this gave you another perspective.

So.... discussion time.

Let me know what you think here

I’d like to hear from you since I delved into my trauma.

I don’t think I’ll ever tell this story again, it makes me sick and tired. But I’ll answer questions/asks.

If you have a lot of White guilt and wanna do something, you could donate some reparations to my venmo lol:

@faithrebecca1397 (last 4 digits are 4809)

or paypal

http://www.paypal.me/faithrebecca1397

Edit: People are asking me if they can reblog this. YES PLEASE REBLOG. It’s important to let people know that all types of racism are alive and well.

#blm #black lives matter #education #academia #black women matter #discussion #racism #history #mental health

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twopoppies · 4 years

Note

hi this is nyfbm anon! I was looking for fics centered around mental health issues, dont care about ship/au/etc :)

Ah, ok, awesome. Thanks for being more specific. Ok, here we go. Just a reminder to read the tags in all of these because there are bound to be some heavy topics that aren’t for everyone.

Golden by Shaylea (E, 128K) I loved this author‘s last fic, and somehow, they managed to write another captivating story that’s so immersed in the country it takes place in. I was sucked in right from the start and really like how they write complex, flawed characters that you still root and cheer for. It’s a bit neat in its conclusion, but I think it’s very much worth a read.

Deux Fantômes by ohpleaselarry (E, 16K) So, let me start by saying I cried through ¾ of this. I promise it’s a happy ending, but it’s heavy and very moving. Please read the tags as there are some triggering things, but it’s also so sweet and gentle and really well written.

and I’m weeping warm honey and milk (that you stay surrounding me) by FangirlFlailings/ @wooltobravetheseasons (M, 78K) This fic digs deep into therapy and recovery from PTSD and anxiety. It included everything from great Ot5 friendship, great side Ziam, coming out, commitment phobic Harry, and of course, vulnerable Louis. I really enjoyed this one.

Lollipop by Speechless / @johnnymignotta (E, 29K I loved the first chapter, and had resigned myself to the fact that it would forever remain a WIP. But the author came back and made it so much deeper and more moving than I could have hoped. They did a beautiful job of exploring Louis’ pain, confusion, and desperation. Harry was patient and kind, but never felt like a push over. Most of all I could really feel how much Louis loved and needed Harry, and how much that scared him. The writing is really sparse, in the best kind of way. (depression, ED)

sat with the echoes by BeforeEternity / @starlitlou (T, 3K) Read the tags on this one, but if frank conversations about ED recovery don’t bother you, then please read this. I thought it was so moving and realistic and just beautifully written.

The Dead of July by whimsicule (M, 117K) Even if you know nothing about MCU, this fic is a must read. Lots of angst, great writing, and what feels like very well-handled depiction of PTSD and everything else that comes along with kidnapping, torture, and amnesia. Good times. But there’s a happy ending and a 110K second part (with more angst and mental health struggles) that I haven’t read yet, but I’ve heard good reviews of!

Run Like the Devil by Benzos (E, 138K) I tend to think of this fic almost more of a Louis character study, and although it’s pretty OOC, it’s still such good writing and such a compelling story. Trauma, PTSD, Bad parenting and more. Harry and Louis somehow take care of each other and there’s a 19K second part that continues the story.

hush. by wankerville (T, 41K) This author just writes beautifully and this is one of those high school AUs that has lingered with me long after I read it. They capture the longing and want and self-hatred and confusion of being that age and being queer, so so well. BTW, there’s smut in this fic. I’m not sure why it was rated T.

wishing you were them by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry (T, 20K) This author always has such a lovely way with words. This fic, in particular, does a great job depicting deep depression. Although, the depression here is compounded by the specifics of Harry and Louis’ relationship, which makes it all the more moving.

your best fake smile by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (GA, 6K) This is a wonderfully written character study that does such a great job of really capturing both the feeling of deep depression and the soul of the location in which the fic takes place. It’s tightly written in the best possible ways – not one superfluous word.

Lightening Strikes Twice by @dinosaursmate (E, 105K) It’s not often that I read a 100+K fic multiple times, but this one is worth it. It’s one of my favorites from this author, and a favorite all around. This one is an epic love story spanning decades and massive life changes. It’s sexy and well-written, and so touching, and so fulfilling in many ways.

we should open up (before it's all too much) by @disgruntledkittenface (M, 43K) This was just a really unique and beautiful story about loss, grief, depression, and learning how to open up to someone.

Never Never Never Stop for Anyone (Sheylinsonverse) by aimmyarrowshigh, spibsy (lucy_and_ramona) (E, 439K, 10-part series) Yes, here I am again, putting this series on a list. Probably 10 people in this fandom like it as much as I do, but I don’t care. I have read all 440K words more than once, and will likely do it a few more times. Yes, it needs editing, but even so…really well written, super sexy (if you like reading BDSM and can handle Larry + someone else), and such interesting character development. One of my favorite things about this fic is how the authors differentiate between the ways the different characters inhabit their Dom and Sub personalities. I also think the authors did a great job handling the anxiety, eating disorder, panic attacks, and the emotional components that come with a polyamory relationship.

We’re What’s Right In This World by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 49K) This is one of my favorite authors – they do such a good job wuth pacing a story and writing compelling characters. Here we have soldier Harry and blind Louis during WWII and everything that comes along with that time period and their circumstances. It’s heartbreaking, redemptive, beautifully written, and made me cry.

Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction (154K) This is one of those rare fics written in Harry’s POV where you get such a wonderful, intimate characterization of him – you really get to see so many sides of Harry (including how he deals with his PTSD) and this author writes them all so well. It’s action packed, funny, deeply moving, and has such a satisfying ending.

My Lights Stay Up, But Your City Sleeps by PearlyDewdrops (E, 108K) Featuring lots of pining, really well done internal monologue from Louis, and excellent smut. It also has some really lovely writing that I felt captured the pain of mental illness/anxiety very well.

Make Your Words A Weapon by @helloamhere (E, 36K) I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks!

Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere (E, 125K) This was the first fic I read from this author and man, what an introduction! The writing is so good, the OT5 friendship is brilliant, the storyline is unique, the chemistry between H/L is perfect, and the way they write ABO is different from what I’d read before. Additionally, this author really knows how to work mental health struggles int their fics in a way that they add a layer to a character’s behaviors and don’t just feel tacked on. It’s not necessary to read the first part of this series, but you really should because it’s hella hot and I love Harry and Louis’ dynamic Night Out (E, 10K).

Emperor’s New Clothes by sunsetmog (E, 92K) I read this one years ago and while I always enjoy this author’s writing, I don’t recall a ton of details except that the deterioration of Louis’ mental state really made me cry. But don’t worry, there’s a happy ending!

Domestic Monsters by g_uttertrash (9-part series, WIP, 234K, mixed ratings) While mental health struggles aren’t a main aspect of this fic, it’s something that most of the characters deal with. Additionally, the fics are just full of magic and banter and great writing and complex characterizations.

Young & Beautiful by velvetoscar (M, 227K) Again, mental illness isn’t a main aspect of the fic, but both Harry and Louis (and their extended families) deal with various aspects of it and, again, it informs their behaviors. This fic is beautifully wordy and descriptive (which isn’t for everyone) and the characters are probably pretty OOC, but I just love it.

Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow (M, 72K) This is truly one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I have ever read and it is an absolutely travesty that it’s not being talked about every day. This fic is gorgeous and poetic and romantic and heartbreaking and an explosion of metaphoric images and everything I never knew I needed but now that I have it I want to read it over and over and over.

Fading by tothemoonmydear (M, 202K) Let me start by asking you to please tread carefully with this one. It’s a very well-written fic, but it deals very graphically with Louis’ character’s eating disorder. At the time it was written, some people felt it did not portray ED recovery accurately, so if the subject is at all triggering for you, please don’t read this one. If that’s not an issue for you, I loved this one, but make sure you have tissues ready because I ugly cried through almost all of it.

And last, the fic you read that inspired the ask:

Not Your Fault But Mine by sunsetmog (E, 127K) *Tomlinshaw

It’s the beginning of Louis’ second year at uni, and he’s sharing a house with his four best friends in the world. This is going to be the best fucking year ever, Louis can just tell. The best fucking year ever.

#mental illness fics #my fic rec #larry fic rec #depression #anxiety #ptsd #Anonymous

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mortedeveles · 4 years

Text

I’m Okay. (PART 2)

Continuation and end to this oneshot!

SUMMARY: Ever since you were young, your mind has always been clouded with negative thoughts about yourself and your shoulders were always heavy with an invisible weight. But now you’re dating the infamous Katsuki Bakugou, and you couldn’t be happier. He made you feel so confident that you decided to come clean to your dad about your mental health issues. Buzzing with courage, you can only hope everything turns out okay. But as it turns out, you were absolutely wrong.

GENRE: angst, like a lot lot, hurt comfort and fluff. [ONE-SHOT]

PAIRING: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!reader. (i will be writing gn! reader soon, but i still have to adjust to it)

TW: mental health issues, mentions of suicide, cursing, etc.

a/n: i really wanted to give the og oneshot a proper ending so i wrote this up in a day or two!! i want to thank @lafy-taffy for beta reading this, i really appreciate your help a lot! tysm!! btw, i don’t remember if i mentioned this before but y/n and bakuhoe have been dating for months in this oneshot, so they’re past the pining and blushing period!! please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed! it really helps! getting feedback makes me so, so happy, y’all seriously don’t have an idea lol. that’s all, i hope you enjoy!

A week had passed by since Y/N's attempt to express her illness failed miserably. She had decided against telling her boyfriend Katsuki since it was a very sensitive topic for her. Y/N tried her best to brush it off and act as if nothing had ever happened, but it was hard trying to be something you weren't.

Her relationship with her father had become strained and their conversations had become short and dismissive. Y/N had been brought up by her father, since her mother had left when she was a young child, and it pained her greatly that her one and only family relationship was being torn at the edges.

Even though her life at her home had become miserable, Y/N had continued to smile and work hard at U.A, even though the number of sleepless nights she had recently encountered began to take a toll on her body.

She had hoped that Katsuki wouldn't notice the shift in her behavior, Y/N had never been a fan of confrontation. She had always preferred to keep things under the rug. Unfortunately, her behavior hadn't gotten unnoticed by Katsuki. He would notice how she would come out of the restrooms with puffy, red eyes, and how her notes slowly became messier which was unlike her. Katsuki knew that Y/N always organized her notes. But since Katsuki had other things on his mind, he didn't think much of it.

It wasn't until she had rejected his offer to go out on a Friday night that Katsuki decided to act. He was confused, frustrated, and annoyed. They would always go out on dates on Friday nights. Always. Even if she came down with a cold, he would sneak into her house and stay in bed with her, watching a cheesy movie. And therefore, Bakugou decided to act. He had climbed towards her room and stole a look at her from her bedroom window. His blood ran cold.

There she was, crying her heart out with a rope in her hands. No...

Was she-was she going to kill herself? Katsuki knocked on the window furiously, feeling his temper swell with each look at her crying face. Who the hell made her sad? Who did he have to kill?

Y/N gasped and jumped. She dropped the rope and glanced towards her window, eyes widening when she spotted her furious boyfriend. She quickly rubbed her eyes and tried to make herself presentable as she opened the window with a forced smile.

''What's up, 'Suki? I told you I wasn't going to be able to go out tonight,'' Y/N said. She tried to keep the smile balanced on her lips and not break into tears.

''We need to talk, Y/N,'' he said gruffly. She swallowed thickly and nodded in response.

Katsuki kept his anger at bay as he climbed through the window and pulled Y/N into a tight hug. He buried his head in her hair and breathed deeply.

''What's going on, baby?'' he murmured. It was unusual for Katsuki to act to tender and calm, but something told him that he needed to approach his girlfriend carefully.

That was enough for Y/N to fall apart. She let out a loud sob, curling her fists against Katsuki's chest and her entire frame began to shake.

Bakugou could feel confusion stirring in his heart, who the hell had done this to her?! Y/N had always been a cheery and composed girl but right now, she looked so close from breaking away from reality. The sight made Katsuki feel as if someone was ripping his heart to shreds and burning it to ashes. It was too painful to watch.

''I just, I just can't take it anymore,'' she sobbed. Her shoulders trembled with each cry.

Slowly, he picked up Y/N in his arms and carried her to the bed. Katsuki held her in his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

''What's going on? Something's wrong, and you haven't told me anything.'' he sighed and nudged Y/N’s chest into his chest. He hoped it would be of comfort.

''I don't like me very much anymore,'' she spoke into his chest. The vibrations made him shiver, but her words made him freeze in shock.

''You should be with someone else, 'Suki. I'm sorry for being a mess.''

Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back to get a proper look at Y/N's face. He frowned and brushed away her tears.

''Hey, hey, slow down, nerd. What the fuck are you talking about?'' he pressed a chaste kiss on her salty and swollen lips.

''Can you start from the beginning, baby? Can you do that for me?'' his arms tightened around her.

Y/N slowly nodded and breathed shakily. Katsuki nodded in approval and patted her back.

''That's it, good job. Now, can you tell me what's going on?'' His patience was running thin- Katsuki had never been very patient, but he knew this was Y/N he was talking about- his amazing and kind girlfriend- so he forced himself to be patient.

''Um,'' she lowered her gaze to her lap. ''Ever since I was young, I felt that there was something wrong with me. I would feel so lonely, I wouldn't fit in anywhere, and most of the time, I felt so sad for absolutely no reason! I don't know why I feel like this, but I hate it,'' she forced a sob down her throat. ''I've never told anyone about it. I didn't want to bother anyone,'' Katsuki let out an angry growl, but quickly quieted down. ''I don't think I should be in U.A. There's this self-deprecating feeling in me, there's this voice that likes to taunt with me and tell me I'm worthless, I'm absolutely nothing,'' she whispered, blinking as tears fell on her hands.

''I can't help it. I've tried to make it stop, but it's stronger than me. It consumes me and it's eating me from the inside. I haven't been feeling well lately, and although I'm very afraid of talking about this, I decided to tell my dad about it.''

''And?'' Bakugou's voice was firm but slow. Knowing that Y/N was suffering so much in silence and he had no fucking idea made him furious. ''What did your old man say?''

Y/N let out a bitter laugh. Bakugou raised an eyebrow and bit down on his tongue. Her laugh sounded so, so wrong. It wasn't a happy laugh, filled with amusement or joy. It was void. Empty. Harsh and bitter. Nothing like Y/N.

''He told me to get over it-,''

Bakugou growled. ''That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!''

Y/N smiled and pressed a hand on Katsuki's arm. He sighed and lowered his fists.

''I’m sorry…’’ he mumbled. Y/N nodded in understanding and continued explaining.

''-And to be fair, I think he's right. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly and there's nothing I'm missing. My dad has suffered so much and I'm just a spoiled brat that doesn't appreciate what she has,'' she looked up at Katsuki with watery eyes and a strained smile. ''I'm so lucky. I have you as my boyfriend,'' She giggled and hiccuped, pressing a soft kiss on his jaw.

''Don't worry about it. I'll be fine, 'Suki. I'm okay.''

Katsuki clenched his jaw and tightened his fists. He lowered his head and narrowed his eyes.

''Why didn't you tell me...any of this?''

Y/N sighed. She pressed a gentle hand on Katsuki's cheek and smiled.

''I didn't want to bother you with it. You're amazing, Katsuki! You're strong, determined, your quirk is great and you're the next Number One Pro-Hero. I didn't want to get in your way. Besides, you're so confident and beautiful,'' her voice faltered.

''I didn't think you'd understand.''

Katsuki was silent. His head was lowered and Y/N couldn't see the expression on his face. He was silent. Was he mad? Ashamed of her? Ashamed of having a girlfriend that wasn't mentally stable? The insecurities began to jab at Y/N's heart.

''Katsuki, are you okay? You haven't said any-,'' Y/N raised her hand to touch Katsuki, but he quickly grabbed her hand in a firm grip.

Slowly, he raised his eyes and met her gaze. His eyes were blazing with too many emotions. Y/N couldn't understand what he was feeling. Was he sad? Angry? Furious? It seemed to be a combination of all three.

''I'm your boyfriend, Y/N! Fucks sakes, I'm the one who's supposed to protect you,'' he croaked. The hand that gripped her wrist began to shake. ''Not the other way around. You're supposed to tell me everything, baby. If someone's bothering you, I'll make sure they'll never bother you again. If you're in danger, I'm the one who's supposed to swoop in and protect you!'' he growled.

''I'm sorry, I-,'' Y/N began, but Bakugou quickly silenced her with a finger pressed against her lips.

''Shh. Don't apologize anymore,'' he grumbled.

''How can you think like that about yourself? You're my girlfriend and you're the most beautiful person I've ever met,'' he whispered.

''Seeing you makes me smile. When we're together, I feel so happy I fear my chest might explode,'' he barked out a laugh. ''You're not worthless, baby,'' he held her face in his warm hand. ''You're everything to me, even if you don't believe it. You're a strong, kind, and determined girl. You're going to make an excellent hero, I know it. And I'm not just saying this because you're my girlfriend. I'm telling you this because I know it's true,'' he pressed a kiss on her lips.

Y/N slowly moved her lips in sync, tugging Katsuki forward, but he broke apart from the kiss. He grinned and shook his head.

''Not so fast. I have some other things to say. It doesn't matter if I'm training or busy, fuck, I could be dying and you still have to tell me if something's on your mind. Or have you forgotten, Y/N? Being Number One Pro Hero isn't my only priority. You're so fucking important to me! Of course, you're my priority. I don't know what I'd do without you,'' he mumbled, burying his face in Y/N's chest.

Y/N hiccuped. Katsuki quickly snapped his head upwards and stroked Y/N's hair. Her sobs were louder by the minute, so he gently pushed her face into his chest. He murmured words he wouldn't even dream of saying out loud, rubbing circles on her back and stroking her soft hair. Feeling her sadness and pain nearly brought tears to his eyes, but he forced them down. Katsuki had to stay strong and patient for Y/N.

''I'm so tired, Katsuki,'' she cried. ''I just wish I didn't feel like this. Why can't I be normal?''

Katsuki shushed her and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

''Hey, hey, calm down, baby. It's okay to feel tired. You can rest here with me. Don't worry baby, we'll get through this,'' he murmured. ''I'm here for you.''

About half an hour passed by quickly and Y/N's hiccups and sobs slowly quietened down.

''Thank you, 'Suki,'' Y/N raised her head and met Katsuki's soft gaze. ''I know I'm a handful.''

Katsuki sighed and flicked his finger on Y/N's forehead. Immediately, she cried out and clutched her forehead.

''Ow! What the hell was that for?'' she frowned and crossed her arms defensively. The sight made Katsuki chuckle.

''Don't say that about yourself. It's not true. You're only feeding your insecurities if you say them out loud,'' he gripped Y/N's hand and squeezed it.

Katsuki cleared his throat loudly and prepared his speech. ''Now, repeat after me. I, Y/N L/N, am the most beautiful girl ever and no one can say otherwise!''

Y/N's eyes widened and she laughed quietly. Katsuki smiled and squeezed her hand. At least he managed to get a smile out of her. Seeing Y/N without a smile was like if the world had gone dark, and all the colors were reduced to a boring grey. It shouldn't be possible for someone as beautiful and kind as her to look so sad and miserable. She should always be smiling.

''You can't be serious, 'Suki,'' she chided. ''I'll sound like a dumbass! Seeing you say those words with complete confidence made you look like an absolute clown!'' she giggled and shook her head disapproval.

Katsuki snorted and grabbed her face by her chin.

''I don't fucking care. C'mon, say it. You'll feel better, I promise.''

Y/N sighed and decided to surrender. ''Fine,'' she grumbled.

''I, Y/N LN/ am the most beautiful girl in the world and no one can say otherwise!'' she exclaimed, raising her arms for a dramatic effect. After she had repeated the words, Y/N began to laugh wildly as she buried her face in Katsuki's chest.

''That was sooo embarrassing. I'm never going to say that again!'' her words were muffled against his chest.

Bakugou smiled as he felt Y/N's face heat up in embarrassment.

''It doesn't matter. Good job, baby. I'm proud of you,'' he sneaked a kiss on her lips.

''Thank you, 'Suki. I was a dumbass to think that you wouldn't understand.''

Katsuki sighed and tightened his arms around Y/N. He placed his chin on the top of her head and stared at the window. It must've been midnight by now but when he was with Y/N, time seemed to be an abstract concept. He could spend a century with her and it would feel like a few couple of minutes.

''You are a dumbass for thinking like that,'' he grumbled. ''I know I'm not very vocal about my feelings and all that bullshit,'' he paused and licked his lips. ''I understand how you feel. I've felt like that many times. I thought that if I bottled up my emotions, I would be fine, but I was so, so wrong. I used to feel this insane pressure on me because of my quirk, that I had to be better than everyone because if I tried and slacked off, even just for one moment, I'd fail. I would be reduced to nothing and...'' his voice became softer and faltered. ''That terrifies me.''

A moment of peaceful but bitter silence swept over them as they held onto each other tightly. Katsuki could feel his chest tighten. He had done the impossible- express what he was truly feeling. And his chest and shoulders had felt impossibly lighter afterward.

''Oh, Katsuki,'' Y/N sighed and leaned her forehead against Katsuki's.

''You should've told me about this earlier. I admire your determination, very much, you know that, but you have to cut yourself some slack. You're doing great and even if you slack off, you won't fall behind,'' she smiled and met Katsuki's hesitant eyes.

''I promise. Your dreams and goals are important, but you should take care of yourself too. Don't forget about yourself in the process of reaching your goals. You're an extraordinary person and don't think I've ever met someone like you,'' she murmured, tracing her thumb over Katsuki's soft cheeks. He laughed roughly and leaned closer, closing his eyes.

''I think I could say the same thing about you.''

Y/N smiled and closed her eyes, pressing a soft kiss on Katsuki's lips. He smiled against her lips and tugged at her bottom lip. The two of them danced with their lips, tugging at their hair and necks. It wasn't until Katsuki spoke that they broke apart.

''When you're ready, baby,'' he gripped both her hands as he stared into Y/N's eyes. ''We can get some help if that's what you want. Maybe some therapy would help you.''

Y/N smiled and nodded. She squeezed Katsuki's warm palms. ''I think that would be nice.''

''We're going to get through this, won't we, 'Suki?''

Katsuki nodded and tugged Y/N closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he breathed in the pleasant smell of her hair.

''Of course. I know we will.''

Y/N pressed a chaste kiss on Katsuki's neck, making his face redden and his grip on her body tighten.

''I love you, 'Suki.''

''I love you more, you damn nerd,'' he grumbled. With a heavy nod, the two of them began to descend into hours of sleep, finding comfort and solace in each other's embrace.

and that’s a wrap!! i hope you guys enjoyed it! should i make a permanent tag list, in which you’d be tagged for ALL my fics? DM me or comment if you’re interested so i can make it! next update is for Tainted Flowers which will prob be up tomorrow, and then we’ll get back to model for me! have a good week y’all! xx

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsukibakugou #katsuki x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou x you #angst #fluff #hurt comfort #my writing #mha #veles' writing

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