#hi guys! i drew this during the rabbit stream ^^

[steampoweredbrainrot]

Hello spg Community

[barbiiecams]

doubts

drew starkey x younger!reader (like 19/20 sorry not sorry 😭), reader calls drew “papa” *not in a weird way*, smut, in love w the age gap concept cus of @native2princess ! <3

you watched yet another video on the internet of drew down at disney world without you, but with his friend group that all had a few years on you.

he would send pictures of everything that was cute or that reminded him of you, and you really did appreciate it. but it still didn’t swallow the lingering feeling in your gut.

you weren’t even invited. it was obvious why since you couldn’t even buy a drink legally, let alone not even close with half of them, but for some reason it still hurt and had you questioning things even further about everything.

you swore that you guys were drifting apart.

not only did that make you sad, but it also left you scared and questioning everything.

the only thing that made you wonder why you two were drifting like you thought you were was because of the age gap.

was he getting tired of you? was the age gap starting to become a burden? were you just too immature?

and let’s not even get started on how drew acted around his female friends — that were once again a lot older.

all you could do was just cry. it was a dumb reason to cry about, but you don’t wanna lose drew yet you really think you are. he was your first and you hoped he’d be your last, but who knows where you two may end up?

seeing how he acted with his friends currently was already ruining you. now you found yourself down a rabbit hole of searching through old videos of him before you were even dating.

it was crazy, of course you were aware of that. but it did nothing but further increase your worries seeing how he would act around these girls. all older than you and all more outgoing.

so now here you were, stalking your own boyfriend while you sat in your bed, silent tears streaming down your face.

currently, drew was now in paris for the fashion show. he wanted you to come, but it would be too difficult for you. plus school had just ended and both of you knew that you were planning to spend more time with your family this summer.

regardless of that, this feeling was awful. you’ve had old puppy-love heart breaks during highschool with guys you dated just to say you were in a relationship, but this is real. a real committed relationship you’re in with a guy a little over 10 years older than you.

he’s so mature. so are you, but not entirely. you still had a lot more to experience and learn, and he was always so patient.

but maybe now that patience was wearing thin.

you sniffle one more time before closing out all your apps and throwing your phone on the nightstand next to you. wanting to sleep it off and praying you’d wake up feeling better, your insides just were not letting that happen. not to mention you couldn’t fall asleep without at least getting a goodnight text from him.

laying down was no use. as soon as you tried to lay your head down on the pillow and just relax, the overthinking just continued to grow. there was no escape from these thoughts and it was just eating you straight alive.

you huff while turning over, switching sides and seeing if that would help. spoiler: it didn’t.

all you could do now is groan while sitting up. a certain thought ran through your mind that you really didn’t want to go through with, but did you have a choice? you already felt as if the end of things are near, so why let him break your heart (even though you’d be expecting it) when you can just do it the hard part first?

with a sigh, you reached over to grab your phone and open drew’s contact. everything was making you sick. you just stared at the screen, skimming over the conversation you had earlier.

it was the usual. ‘hows your day’, ‘i miss you’, ‘this reminded me of us’, all the cute stuff.

but it just didn’t hit the same. that feeling of him leaving you because of your age wasn’t going anywhere, and it was making you feel insecure on extreme ends

your fingers started typing. there were no real thoughts, just your pure raw emotions. you hit backspace a couple of times, you sat there and thought about the next few words you were going to say, but eventually you got it all put together it pained you type, but it pained you even more contemplating on whether or not you should send it.

‘hey drew. i’ve been missing you a lot recently and i know it’s weird and you’re going to question why i sent this after you read it, but im sorry. i really do feel like you’re leaving me soon and it’s taking a toll on me badly. i don’t want this to end but i can tell that it is and i just know + feel like we’re drifting apart. i feel like it’s because of my age so i really do understand and respect that. we can talk more once you get back because i hate to do this over text but i can’t just bottle my feelings anymore. goodnight 🩷’

a few more seconds of contemplation, you hit send and stared at the screen. you didn’t know how he would respond so you should’ve been shutting off your phone and running away.

but you didn’t. you stared at the screen and waited until he read it.

thankfully, it didn’t take him any longer than three minutes to open your message, and soon after, the dots were bubbling.

drew himself was lost. confused wasn’t even the word for the long paragraph you just sent him. he even started triple texting you.

‘???’

‘what are you talking about baby?’

‘i’m so lost’

you sighed reading his texts. he didn’t get it, realistically you shouldn’t have expected him to. it was out of the blue, and little to your knowledge, he didn’t think for a second anything was wrong between you too.

when you didn’t answer him as soon as you read it, he went back to typing.

‘answer me’

‘i’m really confused and worried. it’d be nice if you stopped leaving me on read’

‘call me now’

you didn’t even have a chance to start typing because you had an incoming call with drew’s name on it. you didn’t wanna pick up, but you knew you had to because if the roles were reversed, oh you’d definitely be throwing a fit.

swallowing quickly, you hit the green answer button to drew’s facetime call but moved your face out of the camera.

he’s walking, most likely back to his hotel with furrowed eyebrows and an expression that you think showed… annoyance?

drew’s the first one to speak up, “y/n, what the hell are you talking about?” he says sounding very confused and very upset as well.

“i feel like we’re drifting apart apart i don’t know.” you replied. your voice isn’t even a third as stern as his. it’s not stern at all nor convincing.

“where is that coming from? what are you talking about it’s our ages?” he questions you again.

you really hoped a fan wouldn’t come up to him. not because it would interrupt the call, but because they would be walking up on him pissed off and getting a taste of his very apparent bad mood.

you sighed, “it’s just how i feel. maybe i’m not mature enough for this.”

his face scrunches with confusion even further. he then looks down to his screen to see the ceiling you were showing.

“why do you all of a sudden feel this way? you are mature. if you weren’t, this relationship wouldn’t be a thing in the first place.”

this was something else you wanted to avoid; him being mad at you. you hated making him upset and now that you were already upset, and he was just getting annoyed with you, it wasn’t helping and it made you feel worse.

“show me your face baby. you know i don’t like talking to walls.” he says once you don’t respond to his actual voice this time.

reluctantly, you put your face in the screen. sitting up and cuddling onto your bed sheets.

“y/n, nothing is wrong. we aren’t drifting apart at all so i don’t know why you feel otherwise. we’re okay and you know this, baby. stop overthinking.” he reassures you.

before you could finally respond with anything else, you heard a few girls calling his name from the other side of his phone. good luck to them!

“i’ll call you back. we’re not done talking.” he says, then swiftly hangs up.

you wanted to puke. you hated being in any type of conflict with people, let alone being in one with drew.

a headache was starting to form, and it forced you to lay back down and sleep. you kept your phone right next to you on your bed, just in case drew woke you up by ringing your phone again.

—

you weren’t sure when the previous night you fell asleep, but you didn’t wake up until 12 the next day. and that was due to your doorbell ringing multiple times at once.

you whined at the fact you had to leave your warm bed, but you slowly made your way down your apartment’s stairs, rubbing your eyes and forcing yourself to wake up.

opening the door ready to curse out whoever had the nerve to wake you up at this hour, it was drew standing at the door with flowers in one hand and his stuff in the other.

now this is what really woke you up.

“how are you here…?” you questioned.

he exhales, “soon as we hung up yesterday i checked out and booked a flight here. we really need to talk in person.

you step to the side to let him in, then he shuts the door behind him and hands you the flowers.

both of you take a seat at the table. “i need you to fully explain what you’re feeling. that paragraph honestly made no sense and as soon as i read the whole thing i knew i had to get down here.” he says.

you press your lips together before speaking. “i’m sorry.”

he makes a face of puzzlement and also motions for you to keep going.

“maybe im not mature enough for this, drew. i don’t know.”

“what makes you think that? what happened or what did i do that has you questioning everything?” he asks, reaching out for your hand.

you sniffle before continuing, “i just feel like im holding you back. you’re buying drinks, going to clubs and hanging out with your friends who are all around your age and im still in school. it’s not working-”

he cuts you off before you can finish that. “those aren’t reasons, baby. it is working. do you feel left out or something?”

“no it’s just,”

there’s a pause before he says something again, “just what? i don’t understand what’s got you so in your head.

“i don’t know how to explain it. i just think you’re drifting from me because of where we’re at in life and i hate it.” the words finally form, and you can feel a little bit of weight being lifted off your chest now that you’ve got it out.

his expression now shows a face of understanding, then he’s standing up and swiftly making his way over to you, lifting you up before securing your legs around him.

you let out a squeal at the action. when he was balanced, he made his way upstairs to your room with you in his arms.

stepping into your decorated room, he throws you down on the bed then hovers over you. “i’m gonna prove to you that you deserve this relationship.”

his lips make their way to your jaw, leaving little lovebites on them, then down to your neck and chest.

your hands fly to his buzzed head. you let out soft sighs at his lips being on your body, a feeling you loved the most.

his hands travel to your pajama shorts then dipped into the waistband of your panties. as hes taking them both off at the same time, he distracts you by now placing his lips on yours, slowly making out with you.

now your hands are taking action, working to get is shirt off to see his toned body once again. when it’s off, one hand is still on his head while the other goes down to his abs, feeling on him.

now he’s starting to get quick, fumbling with his belt and pants, ready to do you into the mattress.

sooner than later, both of your clothes are off and in random sports throughout the room.

his middle and ring finger are inside you, stretching your out as you moan and grind into his hand.

drew’s cock is laying there on your stomach, practically reaching your ribs. this was just another reminder of how deep he really goes when fucking you.

you could barely keep your eyes on him while his fingers worked you. “that feel good?”

you moan out a “yea.” you definitely couldn’t let him go. the way he could make you fall apart with just his fingers is crazy as it is.

“i bet, baby. already so wet. you know what you want huh?” he coos.

this makes you nod. “want your cock, please.” you reach your hand down to where it rested on you, but he moves your hand away.

“i know you do. but i need this pussy stretched and ready for me.” he responds

“i can take it! promise! just give it to me,” you whine.

drew gives in at your begging. he removes his fingers from inside you before sticking them in your mouth.

he grabs his cock before lining it up with your entrance. he slowly pushes in, making you whimper around his fingers. it hurt a little bit, but the pleasure overrode the pain.

“shhh,” he hushes you, putting his cock in all the way and forcing you to take all that he gave you.

you continued to let out sounds because of the pleasure he was giving you. drew was letting out groans of content himself.

“feels so good, baby. so fucking good.” he throws his head back.

his words did nothing but turn you on more. your eyes squeeze shut before you guide his hand out of your mouth and onto your throat, signaling what you want from him.

he smirks before moving his other hand to your throat, choking you slightly but enough that you can still breathe.

“yea you like when i go hard on you, right baby? this pussy just loves when i go rough on her, doesn’t she?” he teases.

“mhm!” you squeak, loving the feeling of just taking all of him so deep and so rough.

he makes your legs cross completely around him before leaning down into your neck.

this was your favorite position. you being on your back, him groaning in your hear and putting hickeys on your neck, it was so much at once and you loved it real bad.

his lips are right next to your ear. “i’m not going anywhere, yeah?”

he lets out another sound before continuing, “you’re not leaving me either. neither of us are going anywhere.

your breath catches in your throat when he says this. maybe this was all you needed. some reassurance, and a good pounding to go with it.

he sits up before pulling out to turn you around. now that you’re flat on your stomach, he slides right back in with a hand on your lower back right before your butt and the other pushing your head down into the pillows.

you screamed out when he started thrusting all over again. it hurt so good, you just wanted to do this forever him.

you tried to move away slightly because he was just going ham on your poor hole. but all it took was you reaching one hand up, gripping the sheets and trying to pull away before he yanked your head back by your hair. he then brought your back up to his chest and held you by your throat.

“stop running, baby.” he growls into your ear.

“it’s so deep tho, papa.” your eyes squeeze shut as your mouth hangs open.

he kisses right below your ear, “you’re fine.”

that bubbly feeling started to form again. you were about to cum, and somehow drew could always tell too.

“know you’re gonna cum, mama. hold that shit.” he tells you as he pushes you back into the sheets.

right now that request just didn’t seem possible. “i can’t!”

he gives your right cheek a firm slap. “you can and you will. don’t make me say it again.”

you guys stay in this position for a while. him just hitting it from the back deep and all you needed to do was lay there and take it like a good girl.

his good girl.

suddenly, he flips you back over, then lays down himself setting you on top. now he’s got his feet planted on the bed, thrusting up into you.

at this angle, you guys can see the belly bulge happening from how deep his cock was. just proving how big he really is again.

“see that baby? that’s me. all up in those guts.” he says to you.

you throw your head back, but he cups the back of your head to bring you down into him, chest to chest.

“y’the only one who gets fucked like this. y’know that? only one who deserves it too,” his arms wrap around your waist now. “only fucking one.”

his lips are practically on your ear as he says this. you’re only able to nod, but he wants to hear your voice.

“tell me you understand that baby, say it.” his thrusts slow down, but there still deep, and he’s angling it to make sure he’s hitting that good spot.

“i…”

another slap hits on to your cheek. “say it, princess.”

“yes! i understand!” you finally moan out.

“yes who, baby?”

“yes papa!” your voice is weak now.

he smirks at your submission and continues to fuck you hard. more than just a few thrusts later, he’s letting out a lot more groans than what he already was.

“shit baby… y’gonna make me cum soon. you gonna let me put it in you, hm?”

“drew…”

his hips are starting to stutter. “know you’re ready to cum too. been holding it in like papa told you too, good girl. fuckk.”

his arms are really really squeezing around your waist, keeping you still so you can’t try and move from his brutal thrusts.

“cum with me baby girl. got a big load for you.” he moans.

“don’t knock me up.” as good as the moment felt right now, you were dead serious about that.

he chuckles, “i won’t baby. know you wanna feel that cum all in your stomach tho.”

you moan one last time before finally cumming around him. you couldn��t hold it back anymore, no matter how much he told you to wait for him.

but your own orgasm sent his off. he felt you come undone around him, and two seconds later you felt his hot sperm fill you up.

drew’s arms moved from around your waist to seriously gripping your hips down, not letting you waist a drop of what he had to give you.

moans and deep breaths were coming from the both of you. that was the most intense sex you guys had for a while, not to mention the first time he’s actually came inside you.

when he finally came down from his high, he slowly pulled out of you and just let you rest on his chest.

“thank you,” you quietly speak up.

he doesn’t respond, but he smiles and kisses your forehead.

minutes after just sitting in silence, he sits up against your headboard and takes your face into your hands.

“baby, when i say youre what i want i mean it. if you weren’t mature enough for me, i wouldn’t still be here.” he says. you don’t actually answer, you want him to keep going.

“i love you so much, sweetheart. nothing about that is going to change and nothing can make it change. i don’t know what you saw or if i did something, but im sorry. okay?”

you nod with a smile. “okay.”

he smiles back at you then pressed his lips against yours, giving you a nice firm kiss. which slowly turned into a makeout.

you guys pull away just to catch your breath, “we gotta get you packed up, sweetheart.”

“for what?” you ask.

“i’m taking you back to paris with me.”

[britt-kageryuu]

A stream is starting with Leo hosting, his starting soon screen is him snoozing whole laying on a pool float in the water, with some turtle shaped toys floating around him.

The scene switches over to Leo's model dressed in a royal blue yukata with scattered white rabbits, his bandana in an fancy bow with a 'hair ornament' that has the Hamato clan symbol hanging down, black tabi, and blue zori. His model is sitting in the same background of a traditional Japanese home with the shrine to Gram Gram, that Donnie used. River and Shelldon are seen sleeping in the shrine room.

Lots of cheering in the chat, and appreciation for the outfit.

"Hey guys! Sorry for not posting anything in 2 weeks. I think Dee already covered were we went, and some stories, but I can fill you guys in on things they may have not mentioned." Leo smiles, and grabs a tablet to read off some Notes, and questions.

"Okay first off, 'Why didn't we post anything on our Socials?'... do you take us for fools? We're very aware of the fact people would try to track us down based on what we post, I've heard of other content creators who heard from fans 'Hey based on that photo you just posted you're 15 minutes from me! LOL!' Really... Why?" Leo has a disappointed look as he says this. "It would be more weird with an UwU, or OwO, but hey some people are different."

"Second, 'Why didn't you mention a family emergency, or vacation?' We didn't want to accidentally mention where we were headed, but we also kinda forgot to post anything, and didn't think it counted as an emergency." Leo pauses and looks to the side while thinking over the 'drama' that happened, he says some quietly but it's still picked up by the mic, "Pretty sure some random Aunt throwing a fit over her son not wanting to follow a long dead tradition doesn't even count as a family emergency anyway."

Those is chat who heard and understood what he said are spamming for clarification.

"Third, 'Did you have any problems during your trip?' Well, yeah. Red is pretty big, and he had to duck down and squeeze through places alot when we went just about anywhere." Leo brings up a chibi cartoon of Raph deside a door much shorter and thinner than him, and Chibi Raph trying to squeeze through, "I don't know how much Dee went over, but Red was very sad he couldn't fit into some places, and couldn't go on alot of rides. We made up for it by going to some really awesome outdoor locations. We even found some local Wrestling league that were very excited to have Red join them for a couple short notice events."

Leo grabs his drink, and shifts his position. He takes a drink as he looks at the next question, chokes, and starts coughing.

For the next minute chat is asking what's wrong, is he okay, and asking if they should message one of the others.

Leo gets his breathing under control, takes a couple deep breaths, turns his head to the side, and "WHY DID YOU IMPLY I WAS ASKING FOR HIS HAND IN MARRIAGE!?!?!?!" He yelled at the audience could only assume is Dee.

Faintly you could hear "I didn't~ They just assumed~"

Leo still annoyed continued, "ugh, 'Did you ask your boyfriend's family if they will let you marry him?' No, we haven't been together, what we think, is a long enough time to get married. Plus my Samurai hasn't even asked Pops yet... I think." Leo's model now has a look of suspicion, and he thinks it over.

Chat is going nuts with Rabbit, Turtle, and Blue Heart emojis. And some ring emoji being snuck in, and hidden.

He shakes off the idea, reads over the next few questions or notes. " 'Who are the other turtles in the opening screen?' Those are two cousins of ours Cass and CJ, they live nearby and also have their own space here. Though CJ is currently planning to travel the country and further, so He isn't going to show up very much. They didn't really ask to be turtles, we just figured Cass is a common Snapper, and CJ is a Map, and Mandarin drew it up for us. 'And is the other Girl, April?' Yeah, she has changed up her personal style, but we draw her how she looked in years ago with some changes. She has some ideas for her full online persona. Her current picture is just a placeholder."

Leo scrolls through the list with little nope, no, too personal, and why did they bother? After a minute or so he just puts the tablet down with a sigh.

"Well, I don't want to go over any more questions, so let's start a poll on what we do next. Everyone ready here's your choices!!"

The stream continues with Leo playing a couple small games, and alot of small talk, and avoiding questions.

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

Masterpost

[joaquinwhorres]

alone together (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Dating is hard. But it's even harder to watch the person you love dating other people.

REQUEST ››››› 11 +13 with Diego? (11. Telling them a dumb joke just to see their smile. 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.) 

WORD COUNT ››››› 2,261

WARNINGS ››››› dirty jokes

A/N ››››› This idea popped into my head right as I was going to sleep the other night, and it just kind of poured out. I always feel a bit guilty when I turn love story requests into something a bit angsty, soooo I added some fluffy moments in here as well. And let me just say, I love their dynamic. Also I *slightly* changed 13. 

They've been close since the Academy. Not the Umbrella shit, the police academy--which was, pretty much, more of the same shit. Still had to dress up in a dapper little uniform and take orders from superiors who hardly deserved the title. He spent his childhood training to take down the bad guys and some thirty year old asshole who got his badge five years ago and aced some written test knew better than him? Bullshit.

She was one of the few people who put up with him at the time. Everyone else talked their shit and played the stupid game, as if blowing smoke up the instructors' ass would save them in the field. She was the only one who listened. Who took his tips on how to disarm over the trainers. Who questioned rules that would cost lives. Who put him in his place and drew lines between Number 2 and Diego Hargreeves he didn't know existed. 

So yeah, he's been in love with her for a while.

Which is why, when she calls asking him to come over, he turns off the police scanner, takes off the mask, and gets in his car. 

When she opens the door to her apartment, he can't help the small smile that quirks at the corner of his lips. She's so goddamn beautiful even in her leggings and Synchronicity baseball tee he got her as a joke when she graduated the academy. She had laughed so hard she cried and then serenaded him with "Roxanne". It was the wrong album, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

She, Sting, and the other two bastards are looking at him expectantly, so he quirks an eyebrow hoping that it turns his smile into more of a smirk. "You gonna let me in, or did you just want to show me your front door?"

She gives a mirthless pity laugh to tell him how not funny he is. "I was hoping you were the pizza guy."

"Sorry to disappoint," he shakes his head, and the smile situation is getting out of control.

"Not sorrier than I am," she says, heaving a long suffering sigh as she steps aside to let him inside. He doesn't even make it past her before she breaks and offers him a smile.

 Diego snorts and turns towards what might as well be his second home. Or first. Hell, he's here more than he's ever in his shitty room at the boxing gym. The TV is on, blankets pooled in a semicircle on the couch, a bottle of wine and half empty glass in front of the spot. Her purse and keys sit on the table, heels kicked off under a chair. Other than that, the place is pristine as usual. 

He doesn't like the way this scene looks. 

"Thought you had a date tonight," he remarks, heading into the kitchen to get himself a wine glass. Behind him, the door clicks shut and her bare feet patter lightly against the floor.

"There was a miscommunication."

It's the way her voice is too light-- each word is carefully chosen. How under the chair's legs one shoe is on its side while the other is still standing. The fact that she's drinking red wine instead of those stupid Whiteclaws.

"He didn't show." Diego turns to her as he says this, watching to see the words reach her. When they do, her eyes shoot down to the ground and she gives a small shake of her head. 

"No." Her voice is soft and her eyes run over the scratch marks on the wooden floor from when she had him rearranging the furniture to make her new coffee table "aesthetically fit". It's threelong seconds before she speaks again. "He uh--meant to meet up with someone else."

Anger shoots through him, burning and vicious and fuck wine as a solution. Diego strides forward, heading to the front door, when she reaches out a hand to stop him. "Don't."

He looks at her and tries to arrange his features into some semblance of innocent concern. "I'm just going to my car to get a bottle of whiskey I keep there." He has to pry his gaze away from hers because the look she's giving him makes his heart feel like it's going to implode. She looks at him as if she sees him. She's the only person who's ever given him that look.

"Diego. Do not go interrupt his date to pick a fight."

"Fuck," he curses under his breath because she sees right through the lie. He turns back to her, mouth open to deny the accusation when her look intensifies. 

"I know you Diego Hargreeves." 

No one has ever told him they love him.

But that sounds pretty damn close. 

She releases his arm because she knows that she's won or maybe she has some misplaced faith in his self-control. "I really appreciate that you want to kill him. Really, really appreciate it. But I don't need you going to jail on assault charges. I need you here, drinking wine and watching TV with me. Unless you actually have that whiskey."

He shakes his head, thankful he doesn't have to respond because the fact that she needs him leaves him just about breathless. 

This time she curses under her breath, a soft damn. "You're such a tease," she comments, heading back to the couch and he goes back to get a wine glass from the cabinet.

“It's only for you, baby,” he calls over his shoulder. 

They’re two bottles of wine deep and it’s only 11 o’clock. She had apparently been joking about the pizza guy, much to Diego’s disappointment. When he voiced as much, her eyes got big and bright, and she grabbed his face in her hands. “Then let’s order a fucking pizza.” 

And then she slapped him, one cheek after the other and went to get her cell phone.

They’re still waiting on the pizza.

But his attention has been less on the grumbling in his stomach and more on the fact that y/n hasn't laughed once in the last forty minutes. She hasn't so much as cracked a smile. Not even when Esther stabs her hand in front of Hank. In fact, since the phone call for pizza she's hardly even said a word, and he can see what she's doing. She's torturing herself. Her attention isn't on Barry, it's on the asshole she left at whatever bar to go on a date with someone who wasn't her.  

"Hey," he says, and she turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. At least she isn't that far down the rabbit hole. That's good. He's been there enough times to know how hard it is to pull yourself out of the cycle. To silence out the memories of voices you shouldn't give two shits about anymore and focus on what's in front of you. "How did Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

Her nose wrinkle and brow creases in confusion, and she stares at him like he's clinically insane. "What?" 

"Come on," he gestures, turning towards her so that their knees brush together. "How'd the Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?" 

She seems to catch on then, her face more skeptical than concerned for his sanity. "How?"

"He forgot to wrap his whopper." 

She just shakes her head, turning back to the TV. He wouldn't be Number 2 if he gave up now. "What should you do if you come across an elephant?"

"What?" her voice is flat and unamused, but it's not the same tone she gives him when she's done with his bullshit.

"Apologize and wipe it off." 

She cracks then, her lips fighting against her will to keep a straight face as the corner of her mouth twitches up into a smile. A small burst of air exhales through her nose. It's not a laugh, and it's not a smile, but it's a start.

""What's the difference between 'Oooh!' and 'Aaah!'?"

"Oh no--" 

"About three inches."

She bursts with laughter then, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Her eyes crinkle in the corner, as she looks at him, shaking her head. He's gotten what he wanted, but what's one more joke?

"What goes in hard and dry and comes out wet and soft?" 

She almost chokes on the wine she's sipping to help her stop laughing. "Diego!" 

"Chewing gum. Why, what were you thinking?" 

"Fuck you," she says, pointing a finger at him, but she's laughing, so he starts laughing too. She sets her wine glass back down in front of her and crawls all the way on the couch, shuffling closer to him so she can beat his arm with both of her fists. 

"It's a good joke," he protests, laughing harder as she continues her assault. 

"It's so not a good joke!" she argues back, tears streaming down from her eyes. But they're from laughter rather than what's going on in her head, so he'll take it. His arm is saved from the punching by a knock at the door. Naturally she moves to get up, but he shakes his head, gently pushing her back down into the couch and reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. 

The guy takes in his tactical outfit with a raised eyebrow, but doesn't say anything about it. Diego feels a bit sorry that he took off his knives. Scaring the pizza guy was always mildly entertaining for himself. Instead he passes along the money with a "Thanks man," and returns to Y/N who has settled back into her spot. 

She gives him a warning look and holds up a finger at him again. "No jokes during the pizza." 

"What?" It's his turn to look at her like she's crazy. 

"I'll choke and die, and you don't want that on your conscience--and don't turn that into another joke," she adds quickly, preventing him from using the innuendo before he can even find it in the sentence.

"Fine," he says, sinking into his seat and putting the box of pizza on the coffee table. "No jokes. Just pizza."

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at him even as she reaches forward to pull out a slice. She doesn't break her gaze until she's swallowed and he bites into his own piece. There's a few moments of quiet between them, but it feels better than it did before the pizza. There's something lighter in the air between them, and he hopes she feels it too. 

"Thank you," she says, suddenly. 

It takes him a second and a quick glance around the apartment to realize that she means the pizza. He scoffs and waves the thanks off. 

"No, Diego, seriously. Thank you. For coming over," she sighs. "I needed this." 

"I'm always here for you," he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You know that. Can't get rid of me even if you tried." 

She offers a small smile, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, wincing as she notices the pizza grease on her finger tips. Diego shouldn't be watching her this closely. He should focus on his pizza like a normal person. But he can't take his eyes off her. How she seems just a bit slower, just a bit quieter today. She runs her fingers over a napkin leaving a trail of yellow grease. "Do you wanna hear something sad?" she asks, her voice small.

"When you say it like that, how could I say no?" It was supposed to be a joke, but his voice is too soft.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes fixated on the used napkin. 

"This isn't the first time that's happened. It's not even the first time that's happened this month." 

He wants to kill. He wants to wage a war against the boys on Tinder or Bumble or the force or wherever it is she's finding these assholes. But she needs him here. She told him she needs him.

"They're idiots," he says. "Complete fucking morons." 

"Statistics would suggest otherwise," she shook her head, looking back up at the tv, frozen on a close up of Bill Hader's face. "I mean...guy after guy, I'm always the one getting broken up with or ghosted. Is there something I'm not seeing? Seriously, Diego, is there something wrong with me?" She looks at him then, eyes shining and heartbreaking in the earnestness of the question. 

"There's not a single fucking thing wrong with you," he says quickly wiping his own hands off so he can pull her in close. She wraps her arms around his middle, leaning her forehead into the crook of his neck. He can feel her breath against his skin. Feel her heartbeat. He holds her even tighter.

"I'm going to put that in my bio from now on. Not a single fucking thing wrong with me. Verified by Diego Hargreeves." She gives a single quiet laugh at her own joke, and Diego smiles, running his fingers through her hair. He isn't sure if it's as calming to her as it is to him, but her head feels a bit heavier as she relaxes more into him. 

 “I don’t know. I think I’m just done with this all. Maybe I’ll like being alone," she sighs, wiggling a little bit closer. "With you of course. We can be alone together.”

'Yeah," his smile is bigger now, and he can feel her smiling against him too. “Yeah, we can do that.”

[greatcomettexting2]

my little brother woke me up early. i am fucking pissed about clara calling me the “guy obsessed w her” again based on

the fact that she would have regular meltdowns when i didnt reply to her selfies (this has happened to multiple people)

the fact that she would post seven fucking tumblr vents when someone ignored her venting (this has happened to multiple people)

the fact that she would melt down when hearing me talk about ANY of my friends to the point where she got the name clara from a friend of mine named clara because i told her i loved that friend a lot and she would get pissed when i talked about him

the fact that i was like “theres no way thats where she got the name from” until she made several posts about how she was “worried she was stepping on kinnie toes” (re: my friend. what the fuck why would you say some weird shit like this) and then several posts in a row about “how she’d always loved the name clara as a kid” and how “it fit like a glove” even though she and my friend had never spoken ONCE

there is fucking record of this friend and how they used to go by clara with my spotify playlist and my pinterest board for him had that name on it and theres record of me telling him that she started going by his name and mentioned that she “didnt want anyone to think she stole that name from someone” what the FUCK

the fact that she went against someone’s wishes (someone who does not speak to her anymore) to not share their deadname their personal information their photos and their personal conversations in a special designated locked channel where she would gush over them each night 

the fact that whenever ANY of these people drew boundaries with her she would first go “... I have no idea what you’re talking about?” and then jump into her nightly venting about her home and family life

the fact that whenever someone would share ANY personal information with her she would copy and paste this and send it in a vent channel

the fact that she acts like people saying she sends anons to herself and others is some horrible smear when her breath would get all shaky on call or her typing would get erratic during a rabbit stream after sending “Mod Steph is so cute and funny can I date him...” to ye olde greatcomettexting

the fact that this behaviour continued until 2020 and when i told her it was a little bit weird to get pissed and rude at me for three days without telling me what was wrong because i ignored her pictures. or her singing. or maybe a hamilton-type-beat monologue. she’d respond with “I get super mean when i’m high. You need to communicate these kinds of things to me, Jules!”

the fact that the crux of her calling me obsessed is not having any screenshots even though its REALLY fucking hard to pinpoint two people playing out your conversations with friends and relatives that theyve never met. also discord doesnt let you access messages from people youve blocked (worthy goddamned tradeoff.)

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 4

Last of the night.

TW: Small (barely worth the warning) mention of suicidal ideation, drug effects.

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Loki x OC

=

"Delilah, you have a visitor." FRIDAY echoed overhead, making the only occupant in the room start from her slumber.

Lilah groaned in bed, turning her back to the door and burrowing deeper into the bedsheets. "Nope."

"They're kind of insisting, Del."

"What time is it, FRI?" Delilah wiped at her eyes, whining pitifully into the darkness that surrounded her.

"It is three forty three in the morning. The temperature outside is twelve degrees and internal temperature is sixty seven degrees, Fahrenheit. Do you want to know the weather?"

Delilah growled. "Just tell me who's at the door, FRIDAY!"

"Rock of Ages is–"

"For fuck's sake, Loki," she grumbled. "Let him in and just… he'll figure it out."

The door slammed open a second later and heavy footfalls followed. "Lilah! Deh-LI-lah! Where's your hidey-hole –hahahahaha, hole… Delilah?" Just as she sat up in bed and contemplated going to her living room, her bedroom door swung open. "Hey, pocket pixie. Are you awake?" He was whispering with all the grace of a rambunctious three year-old.

"Lord above, Loki, what is going on?" She growled, as he suddenly flipped the light switch and turned the dimmers up to an almost sun-like glow. She shielded her eyes against the light as Loki nosed around her room. "Are you drunk?"

He paid no mind to her queries. "You said we were friendly, but Thor told me you were my only friend because no one wanted to work with me after the… you know… the genocide," he added another whisper.

"You had other friends, Lo." Delilah peeked with one eye to watch the pacing demigod. He looked probably worse than she did right now. His hair was disheveled and his button-up had become crumpled and had, at some point, been taken off, as it was currently mis-buttoned.

"No! I had colleagues with which I shared mutual tolerance." He pouted severely, staring blankly at a corkboard full of pictures before letting out an insane cackle. "You're making funny faces in this photograph." His hand reached out to touch a rabbit plushie on the table below. "Oh, this is so soft."

"Oh, fuck. You're tripping balls." Delilah gently herded him away from the stuffed animal, dumping him into an armchair in the corner of her bedroom. "Loki, what did you take?"

Loki smiled and patted her hair down from the bedheaded mess it was in. "Dinner with you and some more beer with Thor." His smile faltered and his hands fell to hers. "You should have stayed. We had a bad talk." Loki's eyes shimmered with tears that were gone as soon as they appeared. "Your eyes are so green."

Lilah chuckled, despite herself. "So are yours, buddy. Or they would be if your pupils weren't blown as hell." She tilted his chin to focus him back on her. "What else did you have?"

"I had a headache, afterwards. I walked around to find something to get rid of it and the nicest agent gave me some pills." He turned his face and placed a kiss on her bare wrist before cackling again. "I feel great now."

"Alright, then. That's good, bud." Lilah puffed out her cheeks and pondered. She had not had the privilege of dealing with someone who was this sort of high before. After all, stoners were a lot more chill than this. Though, mercifully, Loki was entertaining himself by wrapping his fingers in locks of her hair until they became a curl. "Hey, FRI. Awkward question, how can I tell what kind of drugs someone is on?"

"Any answers to that will have to be on record, Delilah."

"OK. How do I know whether someone's heart will give out and die?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"If they are awake and alert, there is little risk of overdose." Delilah breathed, wincing when he tugged on her hair just a little too hard. "Loki's vital signs are within normal range, if that Is what's worrying you."

There was silver lining in this hazy cloud, after all. "Thanks, FRI. Could you–"

"Completely off the record. Keep subject hydrated until they come down."

The tears were back, and this time they had run down the sharp planes of his cheekbones, unhindered. "Will do, FRIDAY. Thanks." Sighing, she brushed away at the trails on his cheeks using the hem of her oversized sleep shirt. "Hey." His lip quivered at her soft tone. "What's wrong, buddy?"

"My mother is dead."

Lilah winced at the pain in his tone. "I know, Lo. I'm really sorry."

"I am adopted, a monster, a genocidal prick, my mind was controlled, and now my mother is dead. Must I be a walking curse? An omen of ill will?" His voice was shaky, same as the hands in her hair and clasped in her own. Delilah felt awkward. He was never a touchy-feely kind of guy, but it seemed that being high out of his mind and without his magic left him vulnerable.

"You are Loki and you are whatever you want to be, all the time. Today is no different."

He scoffed, his eyes hardening and his jaw tight. "Dead sounds like a pretty good option, at the moment," he muttered.

The snap of her hand on his cheek broke the undisturbed silence of the night. He had yelped, releasing his hold on her hair to soothe the digits-shaped mark. For a moment Lilah was glad he was out of it, or he would have definitely injured her without a second thought in a fit of rage. Instead, his lower lip quivered more, tears flowing freely.

"That's my friend you're talking about. You don't say shit like that, got it?" Face to face, they were mirror images of each other, tears forming salty trails down both of their cheeks before Delilah hastily wiped her face, palm still stinging. "I'm gonna get you some water."

When she returned with two large glasses of water, Loki was still rubbing his cheek, though now it was simultaneous with doing the same to the armchair. "So soft," he kept mumbling, over and over.

"God, you're high as a kite." He looked up with bright, glazed eyes, looking conflicted as to which hand he wanted to unoccupy for the task and not making any headway. "I'm not going to hold the cup for you, Loki."

"But it's so soft! I can't let go now! What if it changes?" He cried, his brow furrowed in concern.

Delilah swallowed the retort bubbling in her throat. "If I'm ever this high, you better take care of me, Lo." The glass tilted towards his lips and he greedily drank the liquid down, some dribbling out the sides and down his chin to land on his shirt. He didn't seem to care, as he finished the first glass and quickly asked for the second, drinking with as much fervor as before.

"You're a pretty Midgardian, Delilah." His hand had migrated from his cheek to his hair, and through the still-flowing tears, he let out a peal of laughter. "Delilah cut my hair and now I'm weak, just like… er… What's-his-face!"

"Samson–"

"Samson!" Loki giggled, though his smile turned back into a frown a second later. "Samson was liked, though. He was a hero. I'm a no-gooder. I deserve to be weak. All Samson did was love!"

"OK. You're clearly spiraling. How about we get you in bed, buddy?" With a few tugs, she managed to get Loki on his feet and travel the short distance to her bed. He instantly reached for the teal fleece blanket she had been snuggled under before her slumber was rudely interrupted. "Sleep it off, OK?"

"Don't leave!" He called just as she was about to flip the lights off and crash on the couch. "My skin is ants and I don't want to be lonely in case they eat me."

"You skin is… ants?" He nodded frantically. Her hesitation only bought her an exaggerated pout that made her feel guilty. Groaning, she flipped the switch off and slipped into bed beside him. His left hand drew large circles onto the fleece blanket, but his right burrowed under her sleepshirt and made tidy circles on her stomach. "That is… an HR complaint. For sure."

"So warm. And soft."

"Loki, you need to be quiet and sleep now," she whispered, ignoring the flutter of his fingers over her skin. To his credit, he tried to still himself beside her, though his body was still practically vibrating. It was going to be a long night.

...

"This is your wake-up call, Delilah," FRIDAY announced, just as the sun was streaming in through the windows of her bedroom.

"FRIDAY, tell Sam I am going to be late and cancel my eight am, please. Wake me in another hour," she growled, pulling her blanket closer. Except her blanket was not a blanket, it was a white Oxford button-up shirt and its owner was plastered against her back, snoring.

"Should I tell Thor his brother is here?"

Delilah pressed her eyes tight, trying to pretend that the world outside was non-existent. "Take a wild guess, FRI."

"Thor is looking for him."

"He's indisposed." Loki whimpered in his sleep and tightened his grip around her stomach. "And crushing me."

"Thor is asking for GPS tracking."

"For fuck's sake, just tell him that Loki will meet him in a half hour in the canteen, OK?" Loki started at her half-yelled response, clutching his head immediately after at the sudden jolt. "Lights on at ten percent, please."

"No," a voice hissed darkly into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Leave me in the dark to rot." His face hid itself into the crook of her neck and groaned miserably.

She patted his hand, trying to squirm out of his steel grasp. "Loki, I need to pee." With another groan, his fingers reluctantly left the comfortable heat of her stomach and he faced the dim lighting overhead.

"My face hurts," he grumbled, rubbing the cheek she remembered plainly striking the night before. "Oh, Hel. My head." Without so much as a backwards glance, she scurried off to the washroom, taking her sweet time brushing her teeth and washing her face, hoping against all hope that the Asgardian left on his own. Delilah was never one for awkward conversations, and she was more than certain that this would be the awkward chat to end all awkward chats.

When she re-emerged, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, head hung between his shoulders in a pitiful stance. He had, fortunately, managed to sling his shirt back on, though it hung open over his frame. "You still breathing there, bud?" Loki barely nodded. Her traitorous legs moved on their own accord, stopping only when she reached him. Unsure on a course of action, she waited quietly for him to acknowledge her.

Loki's eyes swept slowly from the ground, up her form until they reached her own. There was the slightest shadow of lavender dusted on his cheek that made her stomach churn. "Do you always attend strange men who call in the night in your underthings?"

Delilah frowned, glancing down at herself. Her sleepshirt was several sizes too large, and covered her thighs, but she had definitely not had the opportunity to put on shorts before letting Loki in. "In my defense, it was three in the morning when you barged into my bedroom  and I, frankly, had more important things to worry about." He dropped his head again, without so much as a snarky comment, which was more worrying than not. "Your brother is looking for you."

"I heard." He whispered.

"Do you need help getting back?" Her tone matched his. She assumed it was for the benefit of his head.

There was a long stretch of silence and Lilah wondered whether or not he had even heard her. "I don't know why I came to you." The sentence held no malice or mocking, just an expression of confusion to a question she had not even asked.

"I don't mind, actually." She carded her fingers through the gnarly mess of her hair, wincing when her fingers met the occasional knot. "Hey, Loki?"

"Yes?"

Now came the awkward part. "If you were to see the agent that gave you the pills, would you recognize them?" This drew his attention back to her face. His brow furrowed as he gave her the slightest of nods. "Good… because I am going to need to fire them."

Loki's eyes drew closed with a sigh. "Don't make yourself enemies for my stupidity. I should have just come to you last night."

"I'm required to, by law." She raised her hand to halt his protest. "Someone deliberately drugged you and they may not stop at doing it to you out of spite. You were buzzed, but some human might die."

Her hand patted his cheek on its descent, and she was startled when his own grasped it as she pulled away. A ghost of a smirk was forming onto his lips, the dark circles under his eyes making him look manic. "Why does my face hurt?" Loki held her fingers in almost the exact place the had made contact during the night.

"I was trying to slap some common sense into you. It didn't work. Your skull is too thick," she replied, deadpan. "Can I get some clothes on, now?" With a half grin, he released her hand. "Thank you. Do you need help getting back to your room?" He shook his head in the negative. "Want me to grab you on my way to the cafeteria?" He nodded, but didn't move. "Cool. Can you get the fuck out now, or…?" 

With a chuckle, Loki stood, making his frame as large as possible and forcing her to take a step back. When Lilah didn't make a surprised expression, he held her gaze in an irritatingly intense lock, but she seemed to not even blink at the challenge. After another moment, he stepped away, skirting around her, not even bothering to listen in to the muttered cursing she was doing as he left her abode.

[goldngguk]

red // 05

part one of trilogy series

warnings // fluffy cuteness, jealous kookie

word count // 2.3k

trilogy masterlist

Don't do it. It won't end well, you know that. You can't let this happen. But then again, maybe there's no point in trying. Maybe this is all inevitable. Maybe you don't have a choice. Do we ever?

She was startled awake to the sound of loud vibrations against her bedside table. The wood trembled from the sensations of her phone as it received a new message. She groaned, rolling over and stretching for the device.

She laid her head against her pillow trying to recall what her dream had been about. It didn't really even feel like a dream. It was more like the voice in her head speaking to her through the darkness. But what was it talking about? Too exhausted to think or get up, she set her phone down only to watch it vibrate again when a new message popped up.

《???:》 Y/n?

She blinked at the unknown number for a few seconds before remembering who it was. She had given him her number at the café the day before during their conversation. She immediately added the number to a new contact.

Jungkook sat on a couch in his dorm room pleading with himself not to sound so cringeworthy. Forcing a conversation with her was something he did not want to do, especially if it was about something as unimportant as her obviously messed up sleep schedule.

He chuckled at the message causing Yoongi to look up from the burrito of blankets he had wrapped himself with. "What's so funny?"

Jungkook glanced up at his older roommate before shaking his head. "It's nothing, hyung. Go back to your nap."

"It's okay. I should be getting up now anyway. They'll call us down soon." Yoongi rolled out of bed and Jungkook's eyes went back to his phone.

-

After showering and finishing her hair and makeup, Y/n headed for the filming room.

"Hey, Y/n!"

Jimin jogged up beside her. "How are you today?"

"I'm good, thanks. I'm ready to get to work."

Jimin giggled. "Me too. I don't like to sit for too long." Y/n smiled and the two walked together to meet the group.

"Oh, look who's late," Jungkook said when Jimin entered the room.

"I am not late!"

"Everyone else is already here though," he smirked. Hobi laughed and punched him in the arm.

"You haven't even started yet! Besides, Y/n came with me!"

Jungkook's eyes flickered towards hers as she followed Jimin into the room. He felt his stomach drop. Why is she with him? Were they together? What were they doing? He watched the questions consume his mind. I don't like it.

Y/n took a seat next to him, immediately making his negative thoughts disappear. "Hi," she smiled.

"Hello." He tried to choke back the next sentence, but it seemed he couldn't help himself; it just slipped out. "You look pretty."

"Oh, thanks," she replied before turning her attention towards the staff who would be directing the episode.

Jungkook nodded and looked down to play with his thumbs. I can't believe I just said that. It seemed like all of his confidence from the night before flew right out the window when he saw her come in with Jimin. Of course, he wouldn't be a problem for Jungkook; the golden maknae who could do anything. At least he hoped not. He really hoped not.

The staff finished putting the set together and began to record. The first episode of the second season (ep. 21) of Run would be a relaxed episode, saving the more intense games and plots for later. Today would be a board game competition. “You will split up into two teams of six and play two out of three games. The third game will be all vs. all. If the winner of the third game is from the losing team of the first two games, the team can avoid the punishment picked by the staff.” The members nodded and began to decide their teams. The first group included Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hayden, Hobi, and Maya. The opposing team was made up of Jin, Mason, Namjoon, Y/n, Jungkook, and Cyrus. “Now that the teams are made, we will discuss the first game. It's water beads. There is a piece of filter paper placed on a hollow stand. Each of you will drop a bead or a drop of water onto the paper. The person to make the beads break and fall through the paper is the loser.”

Each team took turns adding beads until the overconfident Kim Seokjin decided to push his luck and dump a straw full of water onto the paper. Needless to say, the paper broke and Jin's team lost the first game. “Well that didn't go as planned,” he shook his head as Jungkook slapped his shoulder.

The second game was a test for the BTS members to see how many English words they could memorize on a card in ten seconds without the help of Culture. Jin recited five of his six words, while Namjoon got all of his. “Dog, dinosaur, duck, jello, jam, jerk, cracker, crocodile…”

Jimin snickered before attempting to mock him. “Crocodoll,” he said with a roll of his tongue. Hobi joined his fun, giggling, “Crocodiiiile.”

Jungkook went last. He looked up in thought before remembering his words. “Stream, strong, streamer, rabbit, ring, rocket. Was that it? I think that's all I have.” Everyone praised him for his memory and dialect.

“That was really good, Jungkook!” Y/n said, patting him on the back. His cheeks turned rosey and he smiled back at her. After watching the other team crash and burn, it was decided that Jungkook's team was the winner of the second game.

The third game which would be played individually was Uno. Within a few times around the circle, Y/n was the first to go out. She jumped from her spot and took a seat on the couch behind them. Taehyung seemed to not fully understand the concept of the game. “Tae,” Joon said, slapping him on the knee. “You didn't say uno. You have to draw four cards.” This went on for a while until the members made a game out of it.

“Okay guys, he gets it. You have to let him say it when he lays his card down.” Without even realizing how it happened, Taehyung went out and got second place. Hobi was right behind him.

After a few more rounds, Y/n laid her hand on Jungkook's shoulder and discreetly held up a 1 until he realized. “UNO!” He gasped. “Uno, uno, uno, uno!” He flung his final card across the room causing everyone to bust out in a fit of laughter. Only a minute later did he play the card and get fourth place.

“You would have lost if I hadn't told you,” she giggled as Jungkook held up his hand for a high five.

“They didn't even notice!” They both laughed as they watched the game continue until it was just Jimin and Yoongi left. In order to save time, the boys decided they would draw cards. Whoever held the highest card would be the last winner. Jimin drew a green eight while Yoongi played a red reverse.

“What is that worth? Did we even establish this card?”

Jimin waved his hand at him. “It's okay, hyung. I'll allow it. You can redraw.”

“Awww,” Y/n cooed. “Jimin, that's so sweet.”

Jungkook's gaze shot between Jimin and Y/n. Sweet? What is that supposed to mean? Does she like him? He could feel his face heat up for the hundredth time that week and his fists clenched into balls-- not that Jimin was any threat to him. He couldn't possibly be.

Yoongi drew a draw 4 card, making Jimin the loser despite his good sportsmanship. “That's okay, Chim. You're still the best sport here.” At this point, Jungkook's blood was boiling. Jimin was stealing all of her attention. He needed to do something, anything that would bring her back to him. He noticed the way she leaned on the couch, exposing her hand on the cushion next to him. He slowly crept his hand closer until his fingers feathered over hers. She immediately looked up at him, but she didn't withdraw due to the considerable amount of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. What is he doing?

He mentally celebrated his success before pulling his hand away. Jimin who?

The twelvesome wrapped the shoot and the staff declared dinner would be ready soon. The punishment for Jimin's team was to clean up afterward.

“Hey, Y/n. C'mere for a sec.”

Hayden and Maya were still standing in the middle of the room. She turned in her heels dramatically and made her way to them.

“Yeah?”

“So, Maya's been filling me in on a few things-”

“Oh good god, Maya what did you tell him?” She asked her sternly.

“Just what he needs to know. I'll be going now.” She winked at Y/n and left the room with a swing in her step.

“I swear that girl gets on my nerves sometimes.”

“Don't change the subject. As your very best friend, I demand to know what's going on between you and Jungkook.”

“Hayden, nothing is going on between us! We literally met three days ago, and you know Maya! She's always trying to hook me up with random people. This is no different.”

Hayden nodded his head, staring at her suspiciously. “So you would tell me if something was going on?”

“Of course! What about me do you not know?”

“Okay, Y/n. I believe you. I just think Jungkook might have an eye for you.”

“Good grief.”

“That's all I'm saying. He's showing signs and I think we've all noticed.”

“Kay Sherlock, I'll be sure to keep you posted. Can we go eat now? I'm starving.”

“Yeah yeah, let's eat. But seriously-”

“Hayden!”

-

After an uneventful dinner, everyone turned in for the night. When arriving at their dorm, Y/n shoved Maya inside and kicked the door shut behind her. “Why would you talk to Hayden? We talked about this. It's nothing and I don't understand why you keep insisting that it is.”

“I'm sorry, Y/nickname. I didn't think you'd be that pressed about it.” Y/n followed her into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“I'm not pressed, Maya. I'm tired. You always do this. Every time I interact with a male that isn't in our band, you blow it out of proportion. I don't want a boyfriend. If I did, I would have one. But I don't. I thought that after everything I went through with Luke that you would understand that.”

“I know. You're right. I just get so excited when you loosen up. You work so hard all the time and I care about your feelings. I want you to be happy.” Exiting the bathroom, the two sat on their mattresses to face each other. Maya looked into Y/n's eyes, reading her like an open book. “I know you're lonely,” she spoke softly.

“I'm not lonely, My. I have the greatest friends in the world to share my life with. And I know you care.”

“That's not what I meant,” she said tilting her head endearingly.

“I know what you meant. But I don't have time for that kind of thing. In our career, you have to decide what you want; love or success. You can't have both. Between the touring, the practice and recording, red carpets and events, press following around every corner; it can be too much for some people to understand.”

“I think there's someone who understands that perfectly.”

“Which only means double the time apart.”

“So celebrities and normal people alike are both no-nos.”

“Now you're getting it.”

“Okay! Okay, I'll leave you alone. Just- at least think about it. I really think having a little fun could be good for you right now.”

“If it will make you feel better, then fine. I will. Now go to sleep.” The girls each climbed into their beds-Maya almost immediately drifting off. Before Y/n could shut her eyes, she heard her phone vibrating.

a.n. // DO NOT PAY ATTENTION TO THE TIMES IN THE TEXTS. THEY ARE NOT CORRESPONDENT TO THE STORY. Oooh, who's Luke? And what does he have to do with you?

taglist // @darkdragonskies @kalisica

[aion-rsa]

Utopia US Remake Ending Explained: Who is Mr Rabbit?

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Warning: contains major Utopia spoilers

With newly invented characters and a whole new world wrapped around bad guys/pragmatic planet savers The Harvest (the US version of The Network), Gillian Flynn’s Utopia makes considerable changes to the Channel 4 original. It’s faithful though, in most of the ways that matter – Jessica Hyde, the unforgettable Arby, Wilson Wilson and more are all kept intact, just transplanted from London to Chicago. There’s some very close translation of a few memorable scenes, as well as a good amount of invention. Flynn rewrites the backstory to weave in new setting ‘Home’, and new players, chief of which are John Cusack‘s Dr. Kevin Christie and Rainn Wilson’s Dr. Michael Stearns (the latter a sort-of combination of the original’s Michael Dugdale and scientist Donaldson).

Flynn’s series takes the bold step of taking us inside the shady global organisation pulling the strings of global virus outbreaks, and building an unsettling cult mythology around it with its own tagline: what have you done today to earn your place in this crowded world? Well, in our case, we’ve sorted through the many threads of the Utopia remake finale to explain anything viewers may have missed the first time around… Major spoilers ahead.

Who is Mr Rabbit?

‘Christie and I have parted ways, he just doesn’t know it yet.’

It seems that both Christie and Milner are ‘Mr Rabbit’, i.e. the head of shadowy bio-warfare/new society group The Harvest. Both have the Chinese symbol for rabbit carved into their torsos, and both worked together on the production of viruses for use as germ-warfare post 9-11. The mysterious Milner (The Wire‘s Sonja Sohn), however, told Jessica that she and Christie had parted ways, though he didn’t know it yet, pointing the way to a potential rivalry should there be a second season.

What is The Harvest?

It’s the organisation started by Christie and Milner, which is behind the introduction of man-made viruses into the population. Its ultimate purpose, or at least, Christie’s purpose, is to sterilise the global population for three generations, thereby forcibly reducing overpopulation and the strain it places on the planet’s natural resources.

What is Home?

‘A new society, a grand social experiment’

The headquarters of The Harvest, where children (especially twins – matching pairs are useful in genetic studies) are shipped in from impoverished countries all over the world and brainwashed in Christie’s beliefs. Some are experimented on, some are trained –like Arby – to be assassins, others are trained to sacrifice themselves as martyrs. They’re all taught to respect the ‘purpose’ assigned to them, and to end each day by asking what they’ve done to earn their place in this crowded world.

What is hidden inside the Flu vaccine? 

‘You won’t be having any children’

A sterilisation gene that’s passed down for three generations, stopping anybody who got the vaccine from having children during that time. It’s part of Christie’s Thanos-alike plan to reverse global overpopulation and reduce the pressure it puts on scarce natural resources, which he predicts would lead to the “war of wars”.

What happened to Jessica in that yellow house?

‘Your father created you for me’

She was gassed and experimented on as a child, her body used to test viruses, vaccines and genetic behavioural modifications. The ‘presents’ she remembers being delivered were crates of children purchased from their parents in poverty all over the world, there to be used as lab rats, or trained as soldiers or martyrs. When ‘Mr Rabbit’ used to give Jessica cookies, presumably they were infected with various flus against which she’d been vaccinated. (Or maybe they were just cookies? He does love kids, after all.) Jessica lived there alone, being experimented on by her father, until Artemis (a combination of UK character The Tramp and Jessica’s unseen trainer/saviour Christos, whom a 15-year-old Arby tortured to death) broke them both out, hiding Jessica’s father in an institution and taking the girl on the run.

Who was the man in Jessica Hyde’s basement?

‘My dear, he didn’t care about you at all’

Jessica’s father, the scientist who drew the Dystopia and Utopia comics, and who manufactured multiple viruses during his time working for The Harvest. When Artemis sprang young Jessica and her father from Home and took them on the run, she hid Jessica’s father in an insane asylum (the same one Dr Mike was checked into by his Harvest sleeper agent/wife Maureen), before Milner presumably had it burned to the ground, taking Jessica’s father and imprisoning him in the basement underneath the yellow house.

Read more

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By Louisa Mellor

Is Milner Jessica’s biological mother?

‘I’m not Homeland, I’m Home’

There’s nothing to suggest that Jessica wasn’t simply part of a shipment of children, raised by her scientist ‘father’ in the same way that Dale was given twins Charlotte and Lily to raise as his own. However, there’s a chance that she could be her father’s biological child, and if so, there’s also a chance that Milner is her biological mother (though at this stage, we’re only in the realm of mad speculation.) Arby does call Jessica his sister, but presumably he’s talking figuratively in light of their shared childhoods as lab rats.

Why did Arby/John betray The Harvest?

‘Every child needs love, I think’

Because he read the Utopia pages he’d taken from Grant, and realised that The Harvest had subjected him to experiments as a child that turned him into an unfeeling monster able to commit brutal acts without feeling remorse. Arby (a modification of the initials R.B, which stood for Raisin Boy, the name the Harvest scientists gave him because of his fondness for chocolate-covered raisins – he didn’t even have a name) realised that Harvest had mistreated him, and so decided to choose his own name – John – and his own purpose: to help his ‘sister’ in experimentation, Jessica Hyde.

Why was Wilson Wilson with Thomas and Christie in the end?

‘Everything I do is a cure for our current situation.’

Because (unless he’s playing the double agent game) Wilson Wilson had come around to Christie’s way of thinking, and so betrayed the group. As its most fringe member, and a believer in conspiracy theories, Wilson felt that Christie was right about global overpopulation (remember his frustration about Dr Mike and the rich oligarch whose house they crashed at having too many belongings?). Wilson, we can assume, has now joined The Harvest as one of Christie’s followers, despite The Harvest having murdered his family.

Why didn’t Dr Mike destroy the vaccine’s mother egg?

‘Whoever holds the egg holds the power’

When Dr Mike destroyed the eggs in which the vaccines were stored, it was assumed he also destroyed the mother-egg containing the source of the sterilisation vaccine that Christie Labs were preparing to send out all over the United States. The last we saw Dr Mike, he was driving out of Chicago with the mother-egg intact. After being used and manipulated by Christie and The Harvest, he’s taken the vaccine mother-egg to use as a bargaining chip. 

How did Jessica get the T-shaped rash flu and why didn’t she die? 

‘Your blood is slowly saving you.’

On the drive back from destroying the bunnies at the travelling petting zoo that was spreading the ‘Stearns’ flu around US schoolchildren, Jessica was bitten on the finger by the white rabbit the gang had taken for Dr Mike to test. She was thus infected with the flu and started to develop its characteristic T-shaped forehead rash. Dr Mike discovered that the rabbit was infected with flu, but it was a different strain to the one he’d developed a vaccine for. That told him that the vaccine in production at Christie Labs wouldn’t cure the T-shaped flu – that was all just pantomime to get Americans clamouring for the vaccine – so it must have been designed for another secret purpose (see above).

What were all those marks on Jessica’s back? 

‘Thanks to you, humans will be immune from acting with greed.’

The constellation of different shaped marks on Jessica’s back, like her ‘starburst’ arm mark, are scars from various vaccinations and experiments her father and Milner performed on her. Milner and Jessica’s father were working on genetic modifications to human behaviour, forcing people to “act correctly” by taking away their free will. Inside Jessica Hyde’s blood is a whole bunch of vitally important genetic information, which is why Milner needed Jessica herself back at Home. The Harvest’s search for the Utopia manuscript was only ever intended to bring Jessica back after Artemis smuggled her and her father out when she was a child. 

How did Becky contract Deel’s Syndrome?

‘What we are doing is far bigger than death.’

She was deliberately infected with it by The Harvest when they sent the disease out into US schools in order to test whether they could introduce a virus into humans that would then be passed on genetically, as a dress rehearsal of the sterilisation plan.

Where did everybody end up?

‘We won, we wiped you out.’

Jessica is currently being held captive by Milner, along with her father, at Home. Becky was captured by Thomas, Christie and Wilson Wilson, who appears to have gone over to the dark side. Grant (still wanted for the killing of Cara’s family) was captured by the police. Alice and Ian were left on the run together. And Dr Mike was last seen driving out of Chicago with the ‘Stearns Flu’ vaccine mother-egg in his possession. 

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Utopia is available to stream now on Amazon Prime.

The post Utopia US Remake Ending Explained: Who is Mr Rabbit? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[alpineridgerunner-blog]

I had a TON of fun with this one! I wanted to see how many unique characters I could introduce in the shortest amount of time. The self-imposed challenge was really what made it so enjoyable to write, even if it didn't fully work, it was a blast!

John(3) rushed down the hall in a full sprint, yanking at objects as he went by to impede his assailant's path. First, a water cooler, then a standing desk, a computer monitor, a motivational poster, and finally Sara Ann. "Sorry, hun," he called over his shoulder, "old habit." Sara Ann landed on her shoulder with a crack, she grunted as she tried to roll through it, but her body wasn't used to the motion and instead got stuck halfway and folded in on itself. With a grunt, she righted herself. "Motherfu-"Micheals' foot interrupted. "Now, sweetheart. Which way did our good buddy John(3) go?" Sara Ann flipped to her back, her chest arched high as she grabbed her chin and groaned. She blinked hard, Micheals smug face coming into view as he knelt down to inspect his handy work. "Well?" With a snarl, she spat a red stream of blood at his face. Micheal feigned dusting it off his shoulder like an old rap song and smiled. As he readied his fist for another punchline, a phone on the desk next to them started to ring. A puzzled look struck both their faces, and after a few more awkward chimes, he reached over and answered it, never taking his eyes off Sara Ann. "Hello?" "I'm going to find you," came the reply. "Who is this?" "And I'm going to kick your ass!" Casey slammed the phone hard against the receive, nearly knocking it off the wall. "Let's go," he barked as he jumped over the receptionist desk, his fathers oversized boot knocking a bowl of candy corn off the desk along the way. He drew his pistol and fired two shots into the card reader, but the door wouldn't budge. He fired six more into the handle, dismantling it completely, while the door remained shut. “Impenetrable, huh? We’ll see about that,” he huffed as he stepped back to lean in for a kick. As his foot left the ground, however, a calm voice from behind surprised him, causing him to lose his focus and his balance. "I don't eat candy.” The unnamed voice spoke, “But once a year, on the last week of September, during that magical time when the retail seasons begin to change, I allow myself one, very special bag of the worlds most delicious treat." Casey regained his balance and turned to see a man standing just past the revolving door dressed in a suit and tie and grenade belt. "You!" Jean cried out. "You know this guy, Jean?" Casey asked, using his pistol like as a laser pointer. Jean spat on the floor. "Yeah I know him, this candy ass has had it out for me. Pretty sure he started this whole Cobb-damn thing. Think it's time we kettled things!" With a jerk of his arm, Jean’s shotgun folded over and he pulled two shells from the hello kitty fanny pack at his hip. "Pick it up, filth," John(1) interjected respectfully, his head nodding to the scattered bow of treats on the floor. "Make me," Jean jerked his arm again, his shotgun loaded- but a half second too late. John(1) lobbed his already pulled grenade at the pair and adjusted his tie. The explosion decimated his two opponents, the locked door, and the striped candy. As the smoke and blood settled, he made his way through the door. “Shame," John(1) muttered to himself as he popped an orange and white cone into his cheek. "Real, shame." As he made his way through the first level row of cubicles, one of the nameplates caught his eye. "No," he whispered to himself as he stepped closer, reading it over and over again to be sure. His hands began to shake as he turned the corner of the padded cardboard wall and peered in. "It can't be," but he could barely form the words. From inside the office cube, a chuckle, followed by the screech of plastic casters scratched as his ears. The woman spun around, her fingers tee-peed in front of that devilish smile. "Hello, John(1)." "Martha." "You look great," she drawled, emphasizing the hard 'a,' in classic Marthabitch style. "You look positively succubus-y," he replied shakily. Martha cackled, leaning back in her chair, her long black hair nearly touching the floor. Then in an instant and with the grace of a black swan she was on her feet and circling him, her sharp fingernail tracing the crips contours in his suit as he stood, motionless, like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf. "How have you been, John(1)? Miss," she leaned in close to his ear, her bottom lip flicking his lobe with her last word, "me?" That was all it took for his head to go spinning, his stomach to lurch with regret and weakness, he'd just wished someone would have told that to John(3) before he barreled past and shoved them both to the floor. It was wholly unnecessary. "Out of my way, lover boy," he called back, but as he stepped through the smoldering door, his white sneakers screeched across the marble tile of the office lobby, stopping dead in his tracks. "That's for my wife, road-runner, " Came a growl from the lobby, just before John(3) hit the floor, his hands clutched around the arrow in his heart. Max pulled another from the quiver on his back and reloaded his crossbow with a single hand. Seeing John(1) and Martha rolling about on the floor, however, he decided it'd be best to try the service elevator, and slipped away without their notice. As the floors ticked by, he closed his eyes and tried to think back to the good ol' days. If these terrorist bastards hadn't started all of this, he'd be enjoying his traditional meat lovers omelet and hash browns right now. Floor 9. Macy Lou would probably be refilling his coffee and calling him 'hun' just like he liked. Floor 17. His wife would be at home, raising their kids better than he ever could. Floor 42- the elevator dinged a final time and settled into place on the top floor. But no- these terrorist fucks decided to start something. As the doors slid apart, he reached for a cigarette and patted his pockets, and thought for a moment that he’d heard the elevator sigh. Pfft, what did he know. "Need a light?" Max glanced up, but all he saw was a coffee pot filled with kerosene and a long tail of fire coming out of it. James, ignoring the screaming ball of flames, reached his hand inside of the door and pressed a button pretty low on the list, then stepped back and waved as the door shut, snuffing out the obnoxious wails. James pulled a small pocket-sized notebook from his coat and scratched off Max's name and muttered to himself, little flicks of ash raining down with each syllable. "Only one shithead left to go. These terrorist’ll rue the day. Now,” he slipped the book back in his coat and sucked hard on the cigar. “Where you at, cap’n crunch?” --- Captain Charles rubbed his forehead as the young lieutenant pleaded with him. "Sir, we have to do something! There aren't even any terrorist left in the building. These people are just, their just-" but he couldn't find the words. Charles took a breath, and then set his badge on the desk. "What are you going to do, captain?” The hardened old man turned and regarded the fair skinned pup with sorrowful eyes for a final time. "I'm going to finish this, son. " Original Reddit Source Read the full article