🎧+carlos+24
🎧 — ¿con quién se queda el perro? (“who gets the dog?”) by jesse y joy
a/n: it’s 1:50 am as i’m posting this && it turned out much longer than i expected so…. prepare for angst and enjoy <3
The first thought that crosses your mind as you’re walking across your flat to open the door is that this feels weird. No matter how much you try to push it away, you can’t help it. It’s weird, hearing him knock on the door. You don’t understand why that’s the thing has thrown you off most during a week like this. It’s not the piles of boxes, or the bed that is only half-undone, the emptied drawers, the missing pictures, the packed-up racing simulator. It’s him knocking.
He has a key. He has one, because he hasn’t yet given it to you. Because you still can’t bring yourself to ask for it.
The door creaks open, and you’re met by Carlos’ tired brown eyes. His hair looks messy, his complexion paler than it should. He hasn’t been sleeping well.
To be fair, neither have you.
“Hi,” he says quietly, eyes searching your face. You can’t look much better than him.
“Hi,” you repeat, opening the door wider for him.
“How did you sleep?” he asks, shuffling besides you and into the apartment he used to call home.
“The bed isn’t that bad,” you say. Even though you aren’t here. The thought comes to you unbidden. It makes a sourness seep into your mouth.
You close the door behind you. He stands a respectful distance from you, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And that distance… it’s too far away, but not enough altogether. Too close, too distant.
The two of you linger there, in a silence that seems to stretch between the two of you. There’s a ghost of laughter, of kisses and promises whispered against your lips. Of fingers toying with his hair and murmurs pressed against your navel.
You don’t remember the last time silence stretched like this between the two of you.
“I will be quick,” Carlos promises quietly.
“You don’t have to be,” you respond, and you can see his brown eyes soften. What’s done is done, you have to remind yourself. You made your choice. But there’s a tenderness for Carlos that you’ll never be able to shed. There’s a room in your heart for him—he made home of it years ago. It will take time for him to vacate it—longer than it will your apartment.
Carlos nods eventually, letting his gaze scour your flat. It feels hollow. A phantom. You had grown used to an empty apartment. With Carlos’ line of work, it was near impossible to have him with you for longer stretches of time. You thought you could bear it—seeing him once, twice a week, maybe less. You thought the breaks between races could make up for an empty bed. You thought you would learn to cope with it. That missing him would make being with him all the better. You thought you could learn.
But he loves being a driver too much. And when he told you about Ferrari not renewing his contract for next year, an ugly, venomous thing started festering in your heart. Maybe he won’t drive next season. It was a seed of hope tangled with a blooming selfishness. Because you weren’t sad, you weren’t angry, you weren’t sympathetic—you were relieved. Relieved at the possibility that your boyfriend could be at the end of his career.
And what an ugly, awful thing that is to think about the person you love. And while that rotting hope wasn’t the first sign, it was definitely the last one you needed.
Carlos loves driving. It comes at the cost of him being away more often than not.
You couldn’t keep living like this.
Carlos runs his hand down the line of his jaw. He does it when he’s anxious, frustrated. He doesn’t meet your gaze when he says: “A few reporters might reach out to you.” You don’t mention the fact that they already have. Your spam folder is not large enough. “I will—I will make sure someone from my team helps you out with that. But if you want someone else, I can arrange—“
“Thank you,” you say, a murmur, barely audible in itself. But the silence is heavy, and the way his lips press together tells you he heard you.
“I wanted—“
“Do you—“
And the silence snaps back into place near immediately, eyes staring at each other with something you can’t seem to place. Familiarity that borders on unfamiliar. You’ve known him for ten years, loved him for nine, dated him for eight. There are traces of Carlos carved into every edge of your life. He knows you better than you know yourself. And when the words can’t seem to dislodge from your throat, you know he can tell. You swallow, and instead nudge your head towards the door on your left. Carlos nods tightly, and leads first into what used to be your shared bedroom.
You follow behind him, almost hesitantly. He’s big—he blocks most of your view when you step back in. You almost wish he did entirely. But the moment he moves even slightly to the side, you want to shove him out of the room. You hadn’t realized just how exposed, how bare it would make you feel.
Your side of the bed is tidy, blankets straight without a wrinkle in sight. His side—
His side is messy, with blankets strewn together and his pillow halfway on the floor. You look away too quickly, but your heart stammers at the idea that the outline of you is still visible on the mattress.
He probably noticed it the second he stepped inside. You avert your gaze, looking up at the ceiling. But you can feel Carlos’ stare burning onto the side of your cheek.
You’re not sure what compelled you to sleep on his side of the bed. He rarely ever slept here at all—and when he did, the two of you would end up tangled together, meeting each other in the middle of the mattress. His pillow wouldn’t even smell like him.
Even then, it’s hard to imagine he won’t be here anymore. That you won’t be falling asleep knowing he’s coming back.
You clear your throat. It feels scratchy. “Um, I’ll be in the kitchen if you—“
“You don’t have to leave,” Carlos says, a little too quickly. He swallows sharply. “It’s your apartment. You shouldn’t be…” he trails off, his big brown eyes meeting yours. You nod in understanding.
You stand off to the side while Carlos rummages through the dresser. With his back turned towards you, you take the chance to steady yourself. Breathe in. Breathe out. You knew this would be hard. You knew. It doesn’t make it easier.
You remember the headlines from the day the news broke. Convertidos en extraños muy cordiales. It still makes your skin crawl.
Strangers. You’ve been a part of each other’s lives for a decade. You don’t remember what not knowing Carlos feels like.
He moves away from the dresser and towards his side of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turning slightly towards you.
He thinks you don’t notice it. He thinks you’re looking away when he opens the drawer of his nightstand. He thinks you don’t notice the small, velvet box he pulls out and shoves into his pocket. It wouldn’t matter, anyway—you found it two nights ago.
He was going to ask you to marry him.
This time you do look away, cheek muscle trembling as you force yourself to bite down any tears.
It was a mutual decision. It’s what you told the press, what you told your friends, what you told yourself. It’s the truth.
It stings anyway.
The two of you are leave the bedroom eventually, one after the other. It’s the last time he’ll be in here like this. Your vision blurs. You’ll have to sell the bed. Get a smaller one. You blink the tears away.
Carlos runs a hand through his hair. He tugs too hard, and you nearly reach for his hand. The chide rests on your tongue—you need to be more gentle with yourself. You swallow the words, but they stick to the back of your throat.
Carlos sighs. “Princesa—” It slipped out. He didn’t mean to call you that—you can tell by the way his shoulders tense, how his whole body seems to lock into place. There’s a flicker of panic, of anguish in his expression. He clicks his tongue, tugs on his hair too roughly again, and swallows whatever it was he intended to say.
Instead, Carlos hands you something, and for a moment, you think it’s the ring.
It hurts. Your friends told you the pain would dull with time. You wouldn’t say yes, you realize, even if he pulled the ring now. You’ve spent more nights alone than beside him during the past year. You’ve fallen asleep alone in a cold, empty bed more often than not. You love him—you do. A part of you fears you always will. Saying no would hurt just as much.
The cold metal presses against your palm. It’s not an engagement ring.
It’s his key.
You look up at him. His throat bobs and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out to you.
He doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and your voice breaks at the end.
He nods his head, looking away. His eyes look glassy.
“Me too.”
eve’s 1k celebration 🎧
a/n: godd this song was such a throwback,,, i managed to sneak more than a few lyrics (many translated ones & one in spanish) in there so those that get it…. yknow. really really really recommend listening to the song even if you don’t speak spanish!!! spotify gives you the option to read the lyrics in english so u definitely should give it a listen <3
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Dominant Billie Eilish? 🙏 pretty please
The Games We Play; Billie Eilish/Fem!Reader
Content: 2nd POV. Established relationship, semi-toxic relationship, brief mentions of gaslight, implied infidelity, D/s elements, name calling ('slut'), degradation, teasing, strap-on sex, mentions of ass play, use of sex toys (vibrator).
"I've had enough of the games now, Y/n. You're starting to annoy me."
It was ironic to watch Billie sit at the table and sulk to herself as if she didn't get herself into this situation. These games that she claims to hate oh so much where the ones that she started and wanted to finish once she wasn't getting her way. You have just been with her for way too long not to be able to see her through and through. Billie hated the bitter taste of her own medicine, but she should've thought about that before she brushed you off when you asked about who that was on that instagram post.
You made her watch you flirt with a past fling all night. You could barely remember the lady's name when you two first bumped into her, but quickly she became valuable to you. All you had asked for was honesty about a post that was posted to tens of millions of people, but instead you were shut out. Billie brought this on herself, and it felt good to see her sitting there feeling sorry for you.
"Ooh, tell me more about your trip to Greece! I've been waiting to go, but sometimes it's hard when others won't cooperate with their schedules."
Billie was within earshot of the entire conversation and you didn't spare her one bit. You left her emotionally beaten and bruised every time you laid a hand on the body of someone you came close to being with years ago. Your attraction had faded greatly as you only had eyes for your girlfriend now, but Billie doesn't know that and at this moment anyone would think that the relationship was on its last legs. But just like you know Billie, she knows you too well for her own good. You were trying to make her feel the same way you did over an instagram post. Well, you had one the battle as your attempts to make Billie jealous was working, but Billie was well intentioned on winning the war.
Now as she confronts you about the only thing you can do is play dumb. You weren't going to give her the upper hand by outright admitting what you were doing. The way she dismissed you about posting photos of another girl damn near straddling her kept you up for days. Those 3 to 4 hours of sleep left you irritable and willing to do anything to get your point across. So in your eyes, you're not doing anything worse your girlfriend hasn't done.
"What are you talking about?" You asked her, cocking your head to the side and feigning innocence.
Normally your pout was endearing but right now Billie wanted to fuck it off your face. Still surrounded by strangers who could possibly hear your conversation, Billie gives a deep sigh and she hangs her head down. It was a sign of utter defeat to you.
"Y/n," she sighs before leaning in and whispering, "You really want to do this right now?"
Those simple words were a warning shot. Billie didn't have to say much else. She didn't have to explain that she knows you after being together for two years. She didn't have to explain that they've done this song and dance before and that it's getting stale. Both are committed and faithful to this relationship, but sometimes things get hazy and the relationship is tested. Billie knows she's in the wrong, but getting those words to come out of her mouth is like pulling teeth. You two should be passed this stage, especially as you get older together, but clearly both of you are wrong. When one of you acts up, the other feels like they have no choice but to retaliate and somehow you're always the one always having to retaliate.
You don't want to hear it from her. You don't want to sit in the car on the way home and hear her give you some holier-than-thou speech as if she's the mature one in the relationship. It was easier to talk to you like that when you were side by side and she didn't have to look you in the eyes and act like she didn't do what she did. Did it feel good to flirt with someone you're no longer interested in? No, that part didn't feel good, but being able to glance over and see Billie sulking while surrounded by happy, partying people, it was better than any high or shot of alcohol here tonight.
"What am I doing? I'm at a party that you're ruining the vibe because you want to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Get up, go talk to your friends." You didn't have much else to say to her and she kept her mouth shut too. Billie had nothing to say. Have you succeeded?
Billie was never afraid to drag out an argument, even in a setting like this. There was the great texting fiasco of Summer 2023 that ended with you staying at your friend's place for the weekend. So she was uncharacteristically quiet now. And in a surprising move, she just smiled at you. Your faces were so close together you thought she was going to kiss, but instead she leaned back. She grabbed her glass filled with whatever she had and brought it to her lips. Never did she pull her eyes away from you and you felt your grip on the situation loosening. You don't know what it means for you, for tonight and for the future, but you stepped away from her. You turned your back to her and joined a group of mutual friends. The former fling you were flirting with was nowhere to be found, but it didn't matter anymore.
You felt Billie's eyes burning a hole right through you for the rest of the night. Despite the room being so loud, there was a ringing in your ears that dulled the sound of everything around you. You don't know how you were able to make it through the rest of the night acting like you usual self. The end of the night and car ride home were unbearable and equally silent. Billie's steady breathing was the only sound to fill your ears; so calm yet just as loud as the club's bass in your ears. The little battle you had earlier? It meant nothing now. Whatever victory you felt was replaced by the dread of worrying what was to come next. You expected a screaming match to take place as soon as the two of you crossed past that threshold into Billie's house. Instead Billie decided to do something she hasn't tried before. She was going to fuck the problem away.
Billie was pissed. The way she grabbed you, you don't think you've seen her so mad before. The two of you are no strangers to things getting a little rough, but there was so much more raw and animalistic about the way she touched you, the way she kissed you. Billie was gunning to win the war and she was going to disarm you in the best way she knew how. You don't understand how pissed she was seeing your flirt with an old fling like that, and what annoyed her the most is that you looked to actually be having a good time. She saw how you looked at this woman who has no name to her. You looked at her as if she meant something. Billie thought the photo she uploaded was to be expected from her and her friends. She thought you knew that sometimes one of them gets a little handsy but there was never any ill-intention behind it. Hell, you've seen it happen in front of your very eyes before and you didn't react. To her the difference between the post and what you did was that you intended to make the situation worse. You looked so into this woman, looking at her the same way you've looked at Billie before. Those eyes are only for her.
Billie wasn't nice or sweet tonight. She didn't tease you or suck on your tits for almost an hour like she usually loves to do. You were pushed onto the bed, face down ass up. You weren't able to see anything with your face in the covers. You had to guess what was happening based on the sounds around you. Billie was stealthy and quick, not giving you a second to adjust to what was going on. You felt something cool and wet hitting between your cheeks. You cursed yourself for not wearing underwear tonight, giving Billie easy access to both of your holes to do whatever she wanted with you. You felt something poke at your entrance and soon you were filled with 8 inches of thickness. The air was plucked right out of you as Billie pushed her strap all the way inside. She watched in awe how your arousal bursted through the seams. She pulled out and your juices had already completely covered her strap.
Billie pushes back into you after a few seconds. She started at a slow pace before gradually picking up speed, fucking you harder and faster. The residual anger from your little stunt tonight was fuleing her. When a girl acts up, sometimes she needs to be put in her place.
"You wanna tell me who that was tonight? Who was that girl, Y/n!"
You feel her grab a handful of your hair and she pulls your face out the bed. Her grip was tight enough to feel a prickly sensation on the edge of your scalp. You pulled your head back further to alleviate the pain. The question she asked you had completely slipped your mind as she filled your poor pussy with every inch of her strap. Billie didn't take so kindly to being ignored, so she asked you again. You could barely speak, but you tried your best.
"W-What girl?" You stutter through each thrust.
"Still playing dumb, huh?"
There was a tinge of playfulness in Billie's voice that could've you if you weren't getting fucked so hard. You were still trying to play the game she was built to beat you at. However, that girl doesn't matter to you and certainly she's irrelevant now. Your skin was flushed and sweaty. The sound of Billie's thighs meeting your ass reverberates in the room. How could you be thinking about some other woman when you're getting fucked within an inch of your life.
"If you wanted to be fucked like this baby all you had to do was laugh. You don't have to fight for my attention when you have it 24/7 sweetheart," Billie teased you with such a clear voice that amazed you she was able to concentrate on making you feel so small and fucking you skillfully. "You knew exactly what you were doing tonight, but you won't want to try that again after I'm done fucking this little pussy of yours."
Her words began to sound fuzzy as the tip of her strap kept agitating your sweet spot. You could barely keep yourself up, your arms giving away. The only thing keeping you up right now was Billie's tight grip on your hair. You were about to cum; dangerously close. All the tell-tale signs of your orgasm began firing off and that just happen to be the moment when Billie decided to pull out of you. You could whine and cry all you want, but Billie still pushed you off her strap. Your orgasm, the one you so desperately wanted, shuttered away as you sobbed into the sheets. You were surely a sight to take in. The strap rests against your ass, smearing your juices into your skin.
"Did you really think I was going to let you cum so fast? You really think you deserve that princess?"
Leave it to Billie to not give in so easily -- you should've seen this coming. You push yourself up on your palms until you're pushed back down onto the bed. Billie didn't have to use much force either which made her laugh at you. You were so weak and you hadn't even cum yet.
"Pick a number, baby."
You thought you were hearing her wrong. Did she just ask you to pick a fucking number?
"Pick a number. 1-3."
It was stupid to indulge in whatever game she was playing, but you lifted your head and opened your mouth to utter, "2." You don't know why you even answered.
"Hmm," Billie hums. It's hard to read such a small reaction.
The sound of the drawer opening happens again. You don't have to see to know she's grabbing from the bottom "special" drawer, where she got the strap-on from. There were a few other toys in there and you suspect that's where the game comes in at.
"It's too bad you didn't pick 1, but I guess you spared your little ass tonight."
You were just spread out so perfectly for the buttplug she hasn't used on you yet. Billie would've been able to see her reflection in the shiny metal as it slipped into your tightest hole. Stretching your ass out while fucking you would've ruined you, you haven't tried that out yet. She imagines that you would've been begging her for forgiveness and permission to cum. Even seeing it in her active imagination makes her heart skip a beat. But, fate has decided for her and she's going to make the most of it.
The wand you unintentionally picked had only been used about two or three times. It's vibrations were so strong, something you felt like you had to get use to. Only on it's lowest setting were you able to handle it. Something powered only by batteries yet it was so powerful you were seeing stars the first time you used it.
"Get up."
Billie gave you the command but then she was moving your body herself. She laid on the bed and signaled for you to get on top of her. You go to straddle her before she stops you.
"Uh-uh. Turn the other way."
She made you turn away from and in the direction of a mirror. For the first time since going out tonight, you got a glimpse of yourself. Your hair looked a mess and your makeup had smudged a lot. Spit was drying in the corner of your mouth. You should've been ashamed about how you look and how Billie was slutting you out, but it made your pussy drip on Billie's skin. One, two, three she felt the drops of your arousal on her bare skin. She groaned, showing a moment of weakness for a second. Right then she knew she had to get you on her strap. She lowered you down with one hand. Somehow her strap felt so much bigger when you were sinking down on it this way. The way the girth stretched out just felt different when you were any other position. Billie doesn't fuck you in reverse cowgirl often so you were willing to underestimate her ability to fuck you as hard as you need like this, but quickly you were proven wrong.
Your skin slapped together harder and your tits bounce with every thrust up into your swollen twat. You thought it was a lot to handle until you felt the vibrations from the wand against your pussy. The slew of moans that fell from your lips were louder than before.
"Good girl! Keep moaning for me baby, show me just how much you love being fucked like this. Only I can fuck you like this."
Words like this were meant to only affect you, to drive home the point that you were a slut for Billie and Billie only, but somehow she fueled her own desire. She was fucking up into you with reckless abandon. You were so close to losing your mind from being fucked like that from below while the vibrator was placed firmly against your swollen clit. You had no choice but to endure it as your eyes rolled in the back of your head.
"Whose pussy's this? Who does this pussy belong to, girl," the way she addressed you and the stinging grip on your hip made you spiral. Billie has flirted with degrading you more and more in bed, but tonight she spoke as if this came natural to her. She questioned as if something would happen if you didn't answer her. The worst thing she, or anyone else, could do to you at this moment is deny you of another sweet release. It's a miracle you're not squirting all over her strap that bullying its way into you. The head of her strap hits your cervix so deliciously. She questions you as if you're capable of speaking right now when the vibrator is sending you into orbit. You've officially been rendered stupid and unable to form words.
It takes a solid minute and everything inside of you to be able to muster up the energy to be able to answer you.
"Yours! Oh god it's yours!" You force out with a desperate cry. Your body is beginning to hunch over in weakness as she continues to pound you. You've never felt so pathetic in your life, unable to stand your ground, but never did failure feel so good. The stretch and the buzz was addicting and you were ready to let go of everything that's been pent up inside of your body.
The way you answer satisfies Billie, finally. The sobs of your pure devotion made relief wash over her. She's happy.
She doesn't stop her pounding until you're cumming and crying out loudly for her. Your toes curl as you come the hardest you have in a long, long time. Billie's grip on you was still harsh, painful even, causing the pain to mix with your everlasting pleasure. This is what might be the longest orgasm of your life and it comes after another stalemate in your relationship.
It was almost impossible to be able to come back to reality. You didn't even notice the vibrator had been turned off and discarded onto the bed until Billie stopped pumping into you completely. Satisfaction stirred deep in your hips as you sat there with her strap situated inside of you. Billie was holding you up with both hands now as if you would fall apart into a million pieces if she let go. And let go she never did.
Your heavy limbs find relief when you're laid against the bed. It feels like you're floating on a cloud compared to how it felt before. You were in a state of disbelief, asking yourself, 'did that shit really happen?'
You weren't going to regain your composure after that, and you weren't going to even try. Billie is already up and moving around, disappearing for a few minutes before she comes back with a wet towel waiting to clean you up. She pushes your legs apart and gently rubs the warm towel against your sensitive skin.
"I think you left a present over there."
She nods her head in the direction of the wet spot on the bed. Did you squirt? You don't even have a fucking clue if you did or not but you hide your face in your hands anyway.
"Oh god," you groan.
"We can always sleep in the other room."
"I don't think I can move, Bil."
You had a million and one questions, but you were utterly worn out and Billie's face was flushed pink from all the work she put in. You two have more to answer for in the morning, and a need to explain why you both acted up so much. Seeing you so vulnerable made the words 'I'm sorry, I was wrong' want to bubble up in Billie's throat. Instead she kisses the two sweet thighs she loves so much. The nonverbal apology will always come before remorseful words out of Billie's lips. Holding you until you fall asleep will stand in just for the night.
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PLS SHARE THE DOYEON CONFESSION SCENE DRABBLE PLS RACHEL SEND IT TO US X🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️🙇🏻♀️
summary: tlp drabble #1 where doyeon confesses to jk in first year med school
w/c: 1.5k
note: this ask was sent a few days ago and i actually already have this drabble in the drafts so.... yes 🤓i welcome u to the ribbon cutting ceremony of the unlocking of a new tag in awrkive nation: tlp drabbles
Doyeon believes that she’ll only live until sixty-five – seventy, if luck’s on her side. Ultimately, she’s firm on her stand that life is short and everybody needs to get off whatever is on their chest before it’s too late.
It’s why when she sees Jungkook arriving in Moon’s Printing Shop – where their study group holds their sessions – she sits upright and fixes her already neatly piled books and notes on the table once again, preparing herself.
Just ask the question and get over it quickly. She reminds herself.
“Where’s __?” Is the first thing that comes out of Jungkook’s mouth, taking off the straps of his backpack and setting it down on the chair across hers, as well as some of his bound reviewers and iPad.
Doyeon raises her brow.
It’s weird when Jungkook does that. Asking about you whenever and wherever when you’re not around. She knows you were friends first before you both found her, and you are close – it’s second nature at this point. Still, Doyeon can’t help but be a little suspicious.
But she decides to ignore that, not wanting to put malice in Jungkook’s intentions because it would be unfair to him. She doesn’t want to be that kind of person who thinks that men and women can’t be purely platonic. You’re just good friends, is all.
Though, she definitely did assume that you both were a couple the first time she saw you. Physiology had just ended and Jungkook said he needed to go to the next floor to meet someone for lunch. Doyeon asked to tag along, and that was the first time she met you. Fast forward, you actually weren't his girlfriend. She couldn't stop thinking about the way Jungkook blushed though when she asked him about it.
Glancing at her phone, she sees the empty notification bar, indicating that you haven’t replied to her text from twenty minutes ago.
“She said she was coming. Twenty minutes ago. She also said it’s okay if we start without her.” Doyeon responds, and she watches as Jungkook settles on his seat, nodding at her.
He goes for his own phone, clicks on it as if also texting you himself.
Doyeon watches him with furrowed brows. Jungkook is definitely… conventionally attractive. He sports a medium-length hair, is quite tall, and has a good sense of fashion – even now when he’s just wearing the university hoodie and a pair of baggy sweatpants, he looks good. Naia from Physiology has been asking about him.
Doyeon has had a few crushes from highschool to college, and she thinks Jungkook might be her first in post-grad school.
She’s been thinking about it for a while… though, she’s only known him for two months. Still. He looks good, and most of all, he’s nice. He let her borrow a pen from him the first day they met and was extremely friendly.
And also really smart. Doyeon likes that most about him.
Doyeon rids her head off the thoughts.
“Anyway. Anatomy.” She starts flipping through her book, ready to start the session. But she remembers about what she has to say to him.
Oh, well. She's already mentioned Anatomy and studying. Might as well put off the confession for a few more days. The exam is more important.
Putting his phone down, Jungkook looks through his book as well. "Midterms is next week, right?"
Doyeon nods. “Yeah... and brachial plexus is convoluted to me.”
“Oh, yeah. Threw me off at first, too,” Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head to himself. He grabs a piece of paper. “You just really have to figure out how the branches and divisions work. Let me show you something,”
Jungkook turns the paper to Doyeon’s direction, and with a pen, he sketches out a simple diagram of the brachial plexus, starting with the roots, then moving to the trunks, divisions, cords, and finally the terminal branches.
“Okay, so it starts here with the roots— C5 to T1. Think of it like the beginning of a tree. Then these roots combine into trunks,” He scribbles it, and then looks at Doyeon for awhile, making sure she’s still following. She gives him a slight nod. He smiles. “Annnd, there’s the superior, middle, and inferior trunks… and they split into anterior and posterior divisions.”
He’s talking calmly, methodical in his words. He simplifies such a complex system with clear, organized steps, and this makes Doyeon lean closer, impressed not only by Jungkook’s understanding but by how easily he breaks it down.
When Jungkook’s done explaining, Doyeon leans back to her chair. “That is a really neat diagram.” She looks at the original illustration that the lecturer presented a few weeks ago, and when Jungkook sees that, he laughs lightly.
“Yeah, that diagram is just a mess. But it does click when you just think of it like a pathway—kind of like navigating through a map,” As if he remembers something, he lights up a little. “And oh, __ also taught me a mnemonic. You just have to remember the terminal branches, MARMU. Musculocutaneous, Axillary—’
“Radial, Median, and Ulnar nerves.”
Jungkook grins. “Exactly.”
Nodding her head, she starts to do the same drawing on her notes.
A few minutes passed, comfortable silence hanging in the air. Doyeon had kept on looking up from her book to Jungkook, who’s diligently reading and scribbling on his iPad.
She remembers the confession again.
Doyeon can't help it. She has to ask. Now.
“Hey,” she calls.
Jungkook looks up from his device. “Hm?”
“I have to ask you something.”
With a raised brow, Jungkook says, “You look serious. I’m a little scared.”
She furrows her brows and he chuckles, telling her to continue.
“Are you dating somebody?” Doyeon asks straight ahead. There’s no need to tiptoe around it. She just has to get it out of her system before it becomes worse.
Obviously taken aback and not expecting the question at all, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth like fish in water.
“... no?”
“You’re not sure?” Doyeon asks, confused.
Jungkook stammers. “No, I mean— yes. No. I’m not dating anybody,” He raises a brow at her. “Why?”
Doyeon nods.
“I like you. Are you interested in going out with me?”
Doyeon waits. She watches as Jungkook seems to freeze in his seat, his hand holding his apple pencil pausing mid-air; mouth agape, eyes widened a bit.
She waits for a few seconds, still not getting an answer from Jungkook.
“Okay.” Doyeon says after the stretched-out silence, going back to her book.
Well. That was worth the shot. At least she's let it out now.
“I—what?” Jungkook splutters, sounding incredulous. “What do you mean you like me? Like, like? And you want to go out with me?”
Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Offer is now off the table. Let’s get back to studying.”
“What— were you even serious?” Jungkook insists. “Was that a prank or something?”
With furrowed brows, Doyeon looks at him quizzically. “Why would I joke about something like that?”
“Because…” He trails off, then his shoulders deflate after a few seconds. “I don’t know.”
“Okay?” When Doyeon sees him with a pouty expression on his face, she can’t help but frown. “Don’t think too much about it, Jungkook. It’s not serious. I just wanted to ask. You gave me an answer. That’s it.”
“I didn’t give you an answer, though?”
“Your silence meant enough.” Jungkook doesn’t say anything. She nudges his foot under the table. “Come on, don’t be weird about this.”
Sighing, Jungkook nods his head. “Alright.”
A few beats of silence, and Doyeon remembers something. “Don’t ever mention this to anybody, not even __, you understand me?”
He blinks at her. “Okay.”
Doyeon can’t say the next few minutes weren’t awkward. She felt Jungkook looking up at her every now and then, as if checking up on her. By then, she started to feel the hairs on her body prickle. Is he thinking she’s like, in love with him, or something?
“Hello!” Doyeon looks up from her notes to see you walking in the door. “Hi Doyeon, hi Jungkook!” you cheerfully greet them both with a bright smile.
Doyeon thinks your smile is contagious, so she mirrors your it as well. When her gaze falls to Jungkook, that’s when she takes note of it.
The way his eyes suddenly light up at your arrival. It's not the first time it happens. He has that look every single time you're in the room.
Jungkook instantly goes over to you to help you with the books you’re carrying. When he sets them down on the table, he empties the chair beside him so you can settle down on it, which you do.
“You’re late. Where were you?” Jungkook asks, and Doyeon doesn’t know if it was supposed to be subtle�� but he definitely scooted his chair closer to yours, leaning his elbow to the table and twisting his body to your direction, giving you his undivided attention.
“Oh, just good old traffic. I made a quick trip to a cafe,” you wave him off. Lifting your hand, Doyeon looks at the cup holder you’re holding. “I bought coffee. Doyeon, do you like iced americano?”
“Uh, yeah,” Doyeon smiles shyly. She’s still shy around you. She doesn’t know why. “Thank you. I’ll venmo you.”
There’s an instant frown on your face. With a pout, you take the cup holder close to your chest, an offended expression on your face. “No, it’s a treat. Don’t venmo me anything.”
Doyeon can’t help but chuckle.
“Okay.”
Your huge grin returns and you give her the cup of iced americano. Turning to Jungkoon who looks like he’s eagerly waiting for his own, you raise a brow at him, saying, “And this one's for you. But double the price.”
Jungkook frowns.
You both end up arguing again. It’s light-hearted and good-natured, that’s what Doyeon thinks. Your friendship is just… bizarre like that.
But as she sits across from you, watching both your and Jungkook’s interaction, Doyeon realizes something.
She should’ve known. She’s always thought about it. She wanted to ignore her hunch because again, she thinks women and men can be friends – but that is hard to uphold when Jungkook is so painfully obvious.
Oh, brother. Doyeon internally shakes her head. Jungkook definitely likes you.
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My Love: Chapter 3
Characters: Jake Kiszka x Sara
Warnings: 18+ || Language. Gore. Mentions of blood. Dead body. Stabbing. Angst. Threats. Betrayal. Smut. Allusions to sex. (let me know if I missed anything so I can add it.)
A/N: Posting this early because I have a family reunion tomorrow and won't have time to do all the tags ;) ENJOY!
The morning soon comes and the dread of leaving her fills my body. Her own is draped over mine, her legs entangled with mine and her arm draped over my chest. Her chest expands with each breath she inhales. I absentmindedly trace the curve of her bare shoulder. Leaving her for who knows how long is going to be absolutely horrible. I’ve never gone more than two days without seeing her, and even then it was never a good feeling.
I would miss her entirely too much. And who would protect her while I’m away? Surely not my own brothers. Not when they have their own responsibilities.
Looking down at Sara once more, I gently kiss her forehead. She stirs slightly but moves to rest her head on my shoulder before her body relaxes again. Carefully I slide out from beneath, careful not to wake her. After redressing, I leave her a note on the pillow, informing her of my departure but that I will be home as soon as I can, and then I am leaving.
Chris had sent a car to pick me up, almost as if he’s assuming that I cannot drive myself to the airport. Though seeing his presence inside when the door is pulled open is quite the surprise. He gives me a smile and holds out a glass of whiskey.
“Surprised?” He says as I slide inside the car.
“I thought I would be meeting you in Boston?” I say as I swirl the amber liquid in the glass.
“I figured we could ride there together.. Discuss the murders of this newborn.”
I hum in acknowledgement and take a drink of the whiskey. “Soo.. Any updates on this newborn? Any witnesses?”
“Well,” He takes a drink from his own before continuing. “Any witnesses would no doubt have been murdered..” He shifts in the seat. “I had the body of the latest victim brought to somewhere private.”
“How did you get it from the coroner?”
Chris smirks. “The same way I always do..”
I roll my eyes and finish off my drink. “One of these days, your little trick won’t work.”
Chris shrugs his shoulders. “We’ll see about that.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, save for the soft blues music playing over the speakers. My mind drifted off to Sara. A couple hours into the trip, I received a text from her. A solemn one, wishing she could have seen me to say goodbye before I had left. I do agree that I wish I would have woken her up but I had kept her awake late the night before, tangled in the sheets of the guest bed. She needs her rest, unlike myself, for she is still a human. God, how am I to survive this trip for who-knows-how-long before I can get my hands back on her body?
I left strict instructions for Josh to keep his eye on Sara while I’m away. Though I know she is capable of handling herself, I still want some form of protection around her with this supposed newborn on the loose.
Why must I be roped in to solve this problem? Sometimes I curse myself for possessing so much knowledge on how they operate. There have been no dealings with newborns since.. Well, since myself and my brothers. And that was nearly five hundred years ago. So how did this newborn come about? Especially here? We know of all of the vampires within North America, all of whom are in their respective areas and living as normal as possible. None of which have been careless to kill another soul, nor turn someone.
Chris shoves my knee and nods his head towards the door. Looking over I find the driver holding the door open. Sliding out from the car, I step out onto the pavement and adjust the ring on my right ring finger. Chris leads me into the nearest alleyway and to a solid wood door. He knocks a few times in a certain pattern and soon the door is being opened. I follow him inside and the door is shut tightly behind us. Candles flicker to life along the walls, illuminating a long hallway and there he leads me down to a separate room guarded by two taller men. Men that I’ve never seen before.
They let us through the guarded doorway and we enter into what I presume is the makeshift autopsy room. The body of the latest victim is laid out on a table, a female, a sheet covering most of her body except for her neck. For obvious reasons.
“This is–” Chris starts before I stop.
“I do not wish to know,” I say, holding up my hand to silence him.
He nods his head and steps around the table. “I have forgotten that you do not like knowing who they are.. Too personal.”
It is too personal. Even though it is not my doing, I do not want to know who they are, for the guilt would be too much. Looking down at the woman again, all I can see is Sara. The guilt of leaving her alone fills me more than the secondhand guilt of this woman’s untimely death.
“The gashes on her neck indicate to me that this newborn has no self control.” I say as I bend down closer to examine the woman’s neck better. “He ripped out her jugular vein when he was done feeding.”
“You suspect it to be a male?”
“I’ve learned newborn males have less control than the females do. They feel less guilt, even less so if they have learned how to turn off their emotions. The females, before they learn of the switch, are more likely to be guilt ridden just from feeding on a human. Newborns also have yet to learn how to compel someone to relax and to not be scared.”
“Is that what you did with Sara?” Chris says, making my head snap upwards to glare at him. “What? No human in their right mind would fall in love with a vampire.. They only say they would because we are romanticized in movies and tv shows.”
“She fell in love before I had told her what I was.”
“What, not a who.” Chris hums as he circles the table again. “Interesting.”
I straighten back up and clear my throat. “I’m going to talk to the locals, see if they know of any newborns running around here.”
Turning away from the body, I leave the room and make my way back down the hall and out to the alley. My phone rings in my pocket and I pull it out to see Sara calling. Timing could not have been better.
“Hello love,” I say when I answer the call. “I was just thinking about you. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to call.. I miss you already.”
I smile and turn on my heels to go back out to the street. “I miss you too.. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay longer for you to say goodbye this morning.. I fear that I wouldn’t have left if I did let you say goodbye.”
“And what makes you say that?”
I chuckle. “You may be human, but you have this way of making me do things against my will.”
“Oh really? I was not aware that I could.”
“Mmhmm..”
She giggles, the sweet melody filling my ears. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Honestly? I’m not sure.. I’m on my way to talk with some of the local vampires around here to see if they know of any newborns.”
“Ah well, I will let you go-”
“Wait!” I exclaim. “I want you to do something for me.”
“And what would that be?”
“Every night before we go to bed and every morning, I want you to call me.”
“Okay?”
“I.. I just want to know that you are safe.”
“Are you afraid this newborn might make his way inwards?”
“I don’t know.. But just please call me.”
“Okay, I will.” She says.
Chris steps up beside me and I glance over to him before going back to the phone call. “I have to go, I’ll talk to you tonight.” I say before hanging up.
“No ‘I love you’?” He questions as he sticks a cigarette in his mouth and lights one. He offers me the pack but I decline.
“I should get going. The sooner we find this newborn, the sooner I can get home.”
“Missing your human already?” He teases.
I roll my eyes and turn to face him. “I get it, alright? You don’t approve of our relationship, but last time I checked, it’s none of your concern. I do not care what you have to think about it.”
Chris’s demeanor changes and he pins me to the nearest brick wall with his hand gripping my throat tightly. “And the last time that I checked, I am the one who turned you and your brothers. So I would be careful how you speak to me.. I turned you, and I can easily get rid of you.” I claw at his hand, trying to free myself from his grasp. “I’m not just here to catch this newborn, Jacob.. Onyx sent me here to take care of that human.. I do not want to hurt her, because I know how much you love her, and it would pain me to see you go through the pain of losing someone again.. So, do not cross me again and we won’t have problems. Am I understood?” I nod my head and he drops me to the ground. “Good.. Now go talk to the locals and try to find out any information.”
Standing back to my feet, I straighten out my clothes. I wait until he gets into the car and it drives off before I start going down the street. There’s a clan of vampires that don’t live too far from here. They own a small boutique that’s open at all hours. They had to have seen something.
The bells chime above me as I push the door open. The air conditioner is blasted on high, already chilling me to bone. As if I wasn’t already cold to begin with.
“Jacob Kiszka..” I hear a male call as he steps out from behind the counter. “I have not seen you in a very long time.”
“Hey Anthony,” I say as we hug. “It’s been what–sixty years?”
Anthony chuckles. “Try eighty four. I’m wasting away like Rose from the Titanic.”
I playfully roll my eyes as we pull away. “At least you survived the Titanic.”
“So did she!”
“She’s fictional!” I laugh.
“Alright, alright.. What brings you up here anyways?”
“There’s a newborn on the loose.. Leaving bodies along the coast.”
Anthony hums and turns around to go back to the counter. “A newborn you say?”
“I guess so..”
“You guess so?” Anthony says. “You aren’t sure?”
I shrug my shoulders and lean on the counter. “This last victim is consistent with the patterns of a newborn..”
“You would know,” Anthony smirks. “Though I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“But…” I lean on my chin. “I feel like there’s something off about this.. Yes, newborns can be erratic and uncontrollable, but this seems messy.”
“Well they are newborns. They crave blood and that’s all they want, they don’t care about being clean.”
“I know, I know, but still.. This doesn’t feel like a newborn.”
“I can tell you that I haven’t seen a newborn running around here. Their scent is very distinguished for the first year. If there was a new one, we would’ve known already.”
“That’s it!” I say as I push off the counter. “Anthony, you’re a genius.”
“Well I did study at Oxford so..”
“I gotta go.”
“Don’t fucking disappear for another eighty-four years, got it?”
I chuckle and shove open the door. “I got it.” I say before stepping out of the boutique and back out to the street. Going back down the street and slipping down the alleyway, I knock on the door in the same pattern that Chris had done moments ago. The door is pulled open and I am allowed inside. Making my way down the same hallway, the candles lighting up as I go. Finding the room again, the guards stare at me before allowing me to pass. If I had just a few more inches added to my height, I wouldn’t feel so intimidated by them.
Closing the door behind me, I walk over to the table and pull the white sheet away from the woman’s face. Leaning in close to her neck, I take a long sniff. Her scent mixed with the dried blood has me clenching my jaw. A secondary scent lingers lightly.
Not a newborn.
It’s a familiar scent.
Taking another whiff, the realization dawns on me. My blood stills and a chill runs down my spine. This is definitely not a newborn. Rather someone experienced. Someone who knows exactly what they are doing but chooses to be reckless.
“I always knew you were the smart one..” Turning around, I am faced with Chris. A knowing look on his face.
“It was you..” I say as the pieces finally fit together in my mind. “You have been the one terrorizing the coast..”
“Twas I..” He sighs. “I’m surprised it took you this quick to figure it out.”
“Why are you doing this?” I say as I walk around the table, putting distance between us. “Why bring me into this? Were you trying to get caught on purpose?”
Chris chuckles. “It was indeed a ploy to get you involved and away from home..” The wicked gleam shines in his eyes. “Remember what I told you earlier.. I was sent here to take care of Sara.. I needed you to be distracted. Though I really was hoping that you would have taken slightly longer to figure it all out.”
“Chris, you said it yourself you didn’t want to see me go through this pain again. Why are you doing this?”
“Because Jacob, you have broken the rule.. You didn’t think you could hide this from the Onyx, did you? They know all and they see all.”
“No, you can’t let them do that!”
I start to lunge at him but he only grips my neck again. I feel something pierce through my chest and I look down to see the silver dagger that Josh threatened me with just last night. I look back up at Chris, betrayal evident in my eyes.
“How could you?”
“I’m sorry,” Were the last words to leave his mouth before I fell into darkness.
if i have missed you and you would like to added to the taglist for this, please do not hesitate to comment or message me!
@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2
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Hi hello how do you soup?
How do I.... soup.
Well, I'm not a big soup person but I absolutely love rlly brothy soups and I like it more if the ingredients of the soup are more chunky as opposed to being cut really thin. Also, try as I might I cannot get myself to fall in love with soups that are served cold. I recognize this as the personal failing that it is.
Not sure if that is the proper answer, but what abt you? :D
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damn it feels so good to actually have friends who i feel safe around. like to have friends who im not worried that if they find out that i like "cringe" things they wont judge me. woah!!
@angry-avaocardo @silly1xxx @gollyimsosoevil
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the most wholesome thing is seeing that the wholesome post blog runner is probably one of the nicest people ever :3 i’m generally Terrified of sending asks especially to a blog that Does Things like this but seeing you talk in the tags instead of just reblogging and moving on makes you seem very friendly and approachable !!!! and i hope u know i appreciate that :] i hope you have a wonderful day and both sides of your pillow are always cool and that if you see a random cat on the sidewalk it won’t run away from U ♡
woah, META-WHOLESOME!! thank ya for the compliment, i try my best to carry out those kinds of traits i value!!!!! i’m SUPER super glad that ya did!!! THANK YOU THANK U!! always appreciating how much of an impact this lil blog has on top of appreciating u for sharing as much with me :-)
it’s always a TRIP getting to hear that something i do that i wasn’t even really mindfully doing makes all the difference?? i’m just really, REALLY grateful for all the different kinds of posts that get sent my way and seeing cool + uplifting + sentimental + OVERALL WHOLESOME posts that i express my thanks + ramble a bit in the tags haha !!
i ALSO hope you have as terrific of a day as you’re able to! and i hope you’ll enjoy seeing more posts pop up!
AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE but i got new pillow cases like a week ago THAT DO JUST THAT! AND THERE’S A NEW CAT ON THE STREET WHO HANGS OUT WITH ME SOMETIMES (i’ve been planning to see if he has a microchip, but i know for a fact that the neighbors who feed all the stray cats on our street already have a cage + are well-versed in TNR, so i’ve been thinking about asking them first because the thought that someone could be out there looking for their pal is enough for me to “do it scared”) !! SO THANK U NOT ONLY FOR THE SWEET SENTIMENTS BUT ALSO FOR THE UNEXPECTED HILARITY OVER THE FACT THAT THEY’VE COME TRUE???
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y'know sometimes I see people making comments or talking about Richard Armitage's specific family members or hinting that they know who his potential partner might be or that they know which specific places he goes to regularly (e.g. gyms) and it always makes me:
a) want to barf a little and apologise profusely to RA that people are so horrific
and
b) reminds me of not only how little I know about all that but also how much I enjoy being blissfully & wilfully ignorant on these topics
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Also I never knew that there was even a single color photograph of my grandparents' wedding in 1952. I've only ever seen the ones in black and white. Don't they look beautiful? Didn't I just come from the most gorgeous people?
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Today was the second birthday this year of a friend that I thought I was really close with that i didn’t get invited to
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living in this household is such a train wreck ❤️
like wdym it's not normal for your guardians to be perfectly fine, then have an off day, which leads to my guardians arguing and having my grandma threaten to k word my grandpa and my grandpa just ask to be k worded, and then have me get so stressed out I just start crying, and in some cases (like today) have a panic attack that almost k/o's me 🫶🫠 only for everything to go back to normal 5 minutes later. Damn that's not normal??????? Welp.
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DARN, missed it again! 2nd anniversary of being a they/themer :D
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A half-assed whiteboard imitation of Frederick Sandys’ Perdita (1866), done in a few minutes in Expo marker on 2/14/2023
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I realised that the 10k words that I currently have is likely a much smaller fraction of the hypothetical completed work than I thought it was going to be and I told myself I shouldn't take anything out because it all seems to be fitting together fairly neatly BUT I am def starting to have my doubts about the value of "the scene where the two male characters discuss whether the female character (who is not in this scene) should be breastfeeding the baby that she just had with one of those men (but she's been passing it off as the other one's)" because WTF that sounds AWFUL and I think I only put it in there because I was all YAY I'M JUST GONNA WRITE ABOUT MEDIEVAL QUEENS (KIND OF!!!) and there was that whole Thing in monarchies where you have to get a wetnurse in because breastfeeding reduces fertility and your shitty husband needs AT LEAST another couple of boys what with infant mortality being what it was in them days. And for some reason (probably sleep-deprivation TBQH) I at some point thought that it wouid be a good thing to put into an MCU fic???
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The female character who moves me the most in recent times is Molly O'Shea. She deserved everything better. I wish more than anything that she could've been happy and had someone who genuinely loved her. Even if that was only a friend.
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