#sometimes when i use a word i google it just to make sure i got the meaning of it right

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

me: makes a playlist of my most favorite badfinger songs

me months later: listens to one of their full albums that i haven't listened to all the way through in a while

album: plays a song not in my favorites

me: WHY DIDN'T I PUT THIS IN MY FAVORITES PLAYLIST

album: plays another song not in my favorites

me: WHY DIDN'T I PUT THIS IN MY FAVORITES PLAYLIST

album: plays another song not in my favorites

me: WHY DIDN'T I-

repeat this until the entire album is in my favorites

playlist of favorites grows rapidly

[cookinguptales]

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

[creptolli]

Pet names from the entire CoD ensemble (TF141, Los vaqueros, Graves, Alex & Farah, Hadir, Valeria..)

because it’s actually painful when I see someone use one that I could not imagine hearing from them (no hate it’s my problem not anyone else’s 😭🙏)

A/N: y’all I’m not from any of the character’s countries meaning idk standard terms of endearment in their countries/languages (о´∀`о) - especially the Arabic ones

Also, I may do another one with Makarov, Nolan, König (ew), Horangi and anyone else y’all want!

@medic--main for you :33

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

MY BABY (anywho)

- definitely uses ‘Love, Lovey, Babe, Baby’

- could hear him possibly saying ‘Darling’

- maybe ‘Sweetheart’

- honestly probably wouldn’t use his lover’s name as much to their face. More while referring to them.

- If you ever got married, he would 100% jokingly yell “HUSBAND/WIFE!!” Whenever someone wanted to speak to you.

Rodolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra

- y’all idk Spanish but if you have any ideas for pet names in Spanish then yes.

- ‘Amor, Corazón, Cariño’ [Love, Heart, Darling]

- ‘Darling’ is something that could be heard at points in time but likely not when dating, more married.

- would interchange between ‘Amor/Love’ in conversations.

- Would use your first name a lot, especially when other people are around. It’s not that he’s insecure or anything, he just prefers using your name.

Phillip Graves

- ‘Sweetheart’ violent screaming

- ‘Darling’ more violent screaming

- Could at times use ‘Baby, Love’

- rarely says ‘Babe’ instead of ‘Baby’

- ‘Honey’ <33

- ‘Doll’ or ‘Dolly’

RHAJGDISHDUAUDHSB IM GOING INSANE

- honestly wouldn’t use your name a lot, sure sometimes when he’s in conversation with others, but even then he just says ‘the missus/mister’ or ‘my sweetheart’

- would sometimes tease you when you’re dating by using your last name rather than your first name when wanting your attention. Idk it’s an authority thing. 😏

John Price

- ‘Darling, Love, Sweetheart’ melts

- again, before you took his last name (or he takes yours), he would call you by your last name.

- ‘Lovey’ when he wants to be a pain tease

- in marriage he would often say ‘Sweetie’

- sometimes uses ‘Honey’ or ‘Hon’

- sometimes he would use your first name.

Alex Keller

RAHHH MY LOVE <333

- ‘Babe, Baby’ an insane amount.

- Sometimes, but not often, ‘Love’

- probably uses stupid names or inside jokes that no one else understands.

- if you speak another language, he 100% try’s to learn it and use names from it (he’s absolutely terrible to the point of it being painful, but he’s adorable in trying nonetheless).

- used your first name a lot, sometimes used your last name as a joke.

Farah Karim

- ‘My Love’ is her go to <33

- never ‘Babe’ but sometimes (rarely) ‘Baby’

- ‘Honey’ or ‘Hon’ especially.

the next ones I got straight off of Google so I apologise in advance if they’re wrong (´；Д；`)

- ‘habib albi’ This term of affection means “love of my heart” - حبيب/حبيبة قلبي

- ‘ya hayati’ “my life” - يا حياتي

I would put more but that fucked up my keyboard and took about 10 minutes (copy and paste was a pain in the ass)

Hadir Karim

- said ‘Babe’ once and immediately regretted it, he thought it sounded stupid. It did

- never ‘Baby’

- sometimes he says ‘Love’ or ‘My Love’

- Has a lot of inside jokes that he uses to make fun of you (he means it in good fun).

- Any of the Arabic words from Farah’s list (I’m aware that Uzikstan has its own language.. because I searched it up.. but they also speak Arabic - it’s just not as well spoken)

- sometimes try’s out ‘Sweetie’ or ‘My Sweet’

More Arabic below ⬇️ (again I’m so sorry if it’s wrong it’s from Google I know absolutely nothing about the language, please correct anything if you do know🧍‍♂️)

- ‘ya helo’ “my beautiful” - يا حلو/حلوة

- ‘ya amar’ “my moon” - يا قمر

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish

- ‘Hen’ & ‘Honey’ for sure

- Often also uses ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Sweetie’

- probably uses ‘Bonnie’ if he’s with a femme partner (idk much about Scottish slang)

- loves to yell ‘WIFE/HUSBAND’ if y’all ever get married.

- Would probably jokingly say ‘Dear’ or ‘Darling’ to sound fancy (it sounds so weird with his accent that it always makes you giggle)

- ‘Doll’ and ‘Dolly’ while dating, not as much during marriage.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

- ‘Dear’ when married, also uses ‘Darling’ a lot when married but plays (teases) when dating.

- he sometimes, but it’s usually rarely, ‘Sweetie’ or ‘Sweetheart’

- apparently ‘Duck’ is a British term of endearment? Idk it says older gentlemen use it and he seems like he would say it. Old man soul

- sometimes says ‘Love’ or ‘Lovey’ when he’s sleepy.

- uses your first name a lot, not as much your last name.

- unless you get married, in which he uses your last name all the time (whether you take his last name or he takes yours)

Alejandro Vargas

- He uses a lot more English than Spanish around you unless your first language is also Spanish.

- He loves to tease you with inside jokes and all sorts of complicated Spanish compliments if you don’t speak the language.

- ‘Cariño’ & ‘Amor’ a lot.

- Doesn’t usually use ‘Corazón’ but it will rarely slip.

- ‘Cielo’ [Sky] sometimes, but again, not so much.

- sometimes says ‘Babe’ or ‘Baby’

Valeria Garza

Gods there aren’t enough women

- lovesss calling you ‘Corazón’ and ‘Cielo’ especially right next to your ear while holding you from behind, pushing her body weight onto you.

- ‘Mi Vida’ [My Life] sometimes

- ‘Mi Rey/Reina’ [My King/Queen] a lot, especially if she’s treating you to dinner/luxury.

- Doesn’t often use English pet names, but when she does she favours ‘Love’ or ‘My Heart’ (she often translates Spanish names directly into English)

Here’s the website I used (for mainly Arabic) ⬇️

Edit: HOLY SHIT I FORGOT NIKOLAI

[hannie-dul-set]

YOURS TO KEEP.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x female! reader. g — college! au, exchange student! ricky, fluff, very very lightly angsty. w — swearing, alcohol consumption. kdrama references and misquoted quotes. 3.2k words.

note — dreamt of ricky. vomited out.....ricky as ur cute bf who behaves like a cat and whose favorite forms of cross-cultural exchange is receiving headpats and watching kdramas. only 2 scenes are actually inspired by my dream 😭 if someone guesses which line/s were extracted directly from my dream, i'll reward u with a gyuvin drabble how about that 👍

you picked up a cat from the university’s foreign exchange program.

however, he did not come in a box. he came in a louis vuitton tracksuit and balenciaga sunglasses, which very much caught you off guard when you came to meet him at the admin building, and you greet him after mustering the courage to finally walk up to the cat’s imposing presence. “h—hello! are you perhaps shen quanrui?”

he takes off his sunglasses, meets you with a pair of pretty swoopy, pretty eyes, and says, “oh. yes. are you my owner?” 

you pause. you’re taken aback because that...that doesn’t sound like the right word. “ah, um. i’m the person assigned to help you around the campus and the city for the semester, yes! it’s nice to meet you!” but you brush it off because of language barriers and all. his mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when you tell him the correct term.

“oh, sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you say. “hope we get along!”

quanrui tells you that you can just call him ricky, and gives you a small smile. one of many that you’ll be graced with for the duration of the semester.

“i’ll be in your care.”

your new cat is a little intimidating at first, clad in all black at all times. the night you helped him first settle into his dorm, even his pajamas were reminiscent of an abyss— like a white ragdoll trying to disguise itself as a panther because you later find out that he’s actually a really sweet, really polite, and really clingy cat.

“um. knock, knock.”

you look up from your laptop, ricky in a long leather coat hesitantly peeking out from your half-open bedroom door (you gave him a copy of your apartment key. your cat needs a way to get in by himself somehow). he texted you earlier, asking if you can help him out with an essay, and you assume he’s right here right now for that very reason.

“do you have your paper?” you ask, closing your laptop. he nods and lifts up his ipad, showing it off. you have a very cute cat. you scoot aside and pat the empty space on your bed, and ricky comes padding in, mattress sinking when he settles beside you, making sure to maintain a respectable enough distance and hands you his device with the google doc open.

“oh. i marked the parts where i’m not sure about my vocabulary,” he mentions the moment a yellow highlighted part came up on the screen. 

you give it a once over. “i think this is right. yeah, you did good.” when you turn your head, you’re met with a pair of proudly sparkling eyes. you stifle out a laugh. “what? do you want a head pat for that?”

“maybe i deserve one?”

you let your fingers sink into the fluff on the top of his head. again, he’s really sweet, really polite, and really clingy. but maybe a little too clingy sometimes, especially when he finally got a lot more comfortable around you.

comfortable enough to hiss at your friends.

“oh, you signed up as a student-helper for the exchange program too?” hanbin asks after seeing you walk in the classroom with ricky in row, trailing behind you like a shadow. 

“yeah, i can’t miss the extra points prof choi baited us with.” you nudge ricky with your elbow, noticing how tense he is all of a sudden and how he’s looking at your senior with a bit of a glare. perhaps he’s threatened by another feline presence.

“nice to meet you!” hanbin greets with a bright, an arm outstretched before you, meant for ricky, but he keeps tucking himself behind you with his hands fixed on your shoulders.

hanbin has his hand left unshaked for five seconds too long now. you nudge him again. he won’t budge.

“ah, ricky is still a little shy!” you exclaim, trying to salvage the situation by grabbing hanbin’s hand instead with both of yours, swinging it around, left and right. you’re lucky your senior is so easygoing. he laughs along with you and says of course, of course, he totally gets it, merrily swinging your arms together back and forth. “he’s still not that confident with his korean. right, ricky?”

“keep holding her and i’ll claw your eyes out.”

you freeze. you leer back at ricky shen, giving him your what the fuck are you saying look? he maintains his stance, tugging you back by the shoulders. you twitch out a smile and try your best to defend your clingy and jealous cat. “ahaha. he’s picked up some weird things from all the dramas he’s been watching,” you say. “sorry about that seonbae! we’ll get to our seats now!”

“haha, it’s alright! nice to meet you ricky!”

“what was that?”you snap back at him the moment hanbin leaves the premises. all ricky does is shrugs and steadies his hold on your shoulders, aiming your body somewhere and he starts making you walk to the back of the classroom— far, far away from where hanbin is sitting.

your cat is a little weird sometimes, sure. gyuvin finds him entertaining enough though. they play tennis every weekend, and ricky started picking up even more weird things from him and all the rest of your friends that you’re starting to think they’re not very good influences.

case in point—

“if you drink this, we’re dating.”

the grape juice he poured into your paper cup nearly spills over from shock. you look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed, cheeks burning and heart racing because what the hell? “seriously, where have you been learning these things?” 

ricky looks satisfied for eliciting that kind of reaction. he pours himself a paper cup of grape juice as well because it’s a weeknight, and you have a quiz tomorrow, and getting wasted is off of the table, so you two settled for juice and chips on your living room floor to relish in your academic misery.

“jiwoong hyung and gunwookie recommended me some movies for me to watch.” he sets down the juice bottle after screwing the cap shut, and you fear the other movies those two gremlins recommended him come from a list of top 50 movie pick-up up lines to woo an unsuspecting victim. next thing you know, he’s gonna invite you to have ramen at his place or go see freaking butterflies with him. “i just watched a moment to remember earlier. my pronunciation is getting better, right?” 

ricky is looking at you with his eyes all big and his lips all pressed together expectantly. he’s waiting for your praise. you feel your chest swell. the grape juice feels heavy in your hand. gosh, he’s such a needy cat. a needy cat that deserves all the praise in the world.

“yeah. i’m proud of you. c’mere.”

you leave your cup on the table to focus on more important things— that is, giving ricky his well deserved pats on the head. you don’t recall how your relationship with him managed to get this far, still remembering how intimidated you felt when you first met him. now he’s on your living room floor, head laying back on your couch with a drama playing on the tiny laptop screen settled on the coffee table, both of you barely paying attention because he’s looking at something on his phone, and you’re gently rubbing his head as you reply to some messages on yours.

“ah, gyuvin is seriously annoying,” you complain. “he’s trying to get me to join his club. coding club he says, when i’m pretty sure he’s just starting it as an excuse to play games on campus.”

“are you going to join?” he asks, bumping his head against your palm when you stop giving him scratches.

“mm, i don’t think so.” you set down your phone to pour all your focus into satisfying your needy cat’s attention requirements. ricky lets out a satisfied rumble when set his head down onto your lap, raking your fingers through the tufts of his hair as he lets his eyes flutter to a close. “i’m already too busy this semester to bother with those things. maybe next time if he’s that desperate to fill in the member numbers..”

“yeah,” he mutters. “you’ll be too busy spending most of your time with me.”

your fingers stop moving.

ricky looks up at you, confused as to why you stopped petting him, and you’d eat him right up if you could. but you can’t keep your cat for too long. it’s only a matter of time before you get your last opportunity to coddle him like this, to shower him in unabashed affection disguised as friendship because the exchange program is temporary, and he’s returning back to china at the end of the semester.

so why is he raising your hopes up if he’s just going to leave anyway?

“i meant my acads, silly,” you say, picking up your untouched juice cup from the table, feeling the weight of the drink slosh around the paper cup as you let it hover in front of your lips. 

he’s raising your hopes up and you’re letting him. you know this is gonna end in a disaster.

still.

“but if you put it that way—”

the sharp taste of sweet grapes hits the back of your throat, swallowing down the lukewarm juice that’s been sitting since ricky poured a cup for you. if you’re gonna crash down at the end of this, might as well crash down from two thousand feet above the ground. 

“are we dating now?”

you set the cup back down on the table, gaze flickered down at ricky, whose face is flushed in surprise one moment— easing into understanding the next, and he props himself up from your lap, reaching out for the back of your neck to pull you into a sugary tart kiss.

yeah, you think, feeling the softness of his lips brush against yours, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks when he pulls you in even closer. if your time with him has a deadline, might as well make the most out of it.

“i was disappointed when you didn’t drink it the first time,” he says, drunk on sweet juice and the feeling of your mouth against his. “jiwoong hyung said that line was effective.”

“can you not think about another man when i’m kissing you?”

he lets out a laugh, “‘m sorry,” then presses a fluttering kiss on your temple, tip of your nose, until his lips meet yours once more at last. “let me try again. ahem. i like you. i don’t need a rainbow.”

“you got the line wrong, baek yijin. try again next time.”

if he’s going to leave anyway, might as well make his departure as heart wrenching as all the dramas he’s so fond of watching.

“looks like our friend here got more than just extra credit for volunteering to help out the exchange students.”

you look up from the stack of papers on your table, only to have more dropped off by taerae with a thunk. hanbin, gyuvin, matthew and ricky are also loitering around the classroom— not that they’re helping you and taerae check the test papers your profs asked you to grade as a favor. at least the constant yelling and arguing and meowing noises(?) are making things a lot more lively.

“congrats, you lucky bitch,” he says.

“you sound like you want to covet my cat,” you raise a brow at him, adding the new set to your pile as taerae grabs a new stack as well.

“your cat for this mutt,” he points his thumb at matthew, who’s currently tucked in the to answer an evaluation sheet on taerae. ricky’s doing the same evaluation about you, somewhere. you’re not sure where your cat went, but he’s probably just around. “are you perhaps open for negotiation?”

“matthew isn’t a mutt. he’s a cute golden retriever.”

“well, your cat doesn’t seem to appreciate you calling someone else cute.”

taerae swerves off to reveal a pouting ricky. he’s got his arms crossed, the evaluation sheet folded in between the fingers of his right hand, and you have to hold back a laugh. “did you finish my evaluation?” you ask.

“i did, but i wanna redo it now. negative points for you,” he protests, but lets you snatch the paper from him anyway. you scoot your chair to the left to give him some space next to you. he grabs an empty armchair and nudges his nose close to your face when you start reading his note at the bottom.

“mid-semester evaluation. my student-helper is very acommodatimg. she has been helping me adjust to korea very well. you spelled accommodating wrong, angel.” 

“i did it on purpose to test you. good job. you pass.”

you roll your eyes, free hand absentmindedly reaching out for the top of his head, and you hear ricky let out a noise of satisfaction. “she always answers my questions and is…very pretty and smells nice,” you set the paper down. your cat is looking at you expectantly. “ricky, i don’t think you can submit this.”

“why not?” he asks. “professor choi said to be as honest as possible.”

your cheeks grow warm.

gosh. this makes things even harder knowing your cat has to leave eventually.

“what did i tell you?”

the convenience store lights need to be replaced soon, you note. it keeps flickering intermittently against the dim night— reminiscent of how you’re feeling right now when you called jiwoong out for a few drinks two weeks before finals, but you’re not depressed because finals are near. you’re wallowing in tear stained sniffles because the exchange program will be over soon, meaning you only have two weeks until ricky has to pack his bags and leaves.

“not to get too attached because he has to say goodbye eventually,” you lament, a puddle of soju burning your lips. jiwoong looks at your pathetic state with remorseful sigh.

“and what did you do?” he says.

“got too attached and now i have to say goodbye to him eventually.” you groan and swallow down a shot. you’re about to pour yourself another, but jiwoong pulls back the bottle— maybe your third one of the night, you’re not sure— away from your reach, and pushes you a plastic bottle of water instead. 

“you just had to go ahead and start dating him like an idiot,” he cracks open the water for you when you don’t do anything with it. he pours it in a shot glass, and you take the bait, drinking down the water, eyebrows furrowing when it doesn’t burn your throat like you expected. “maybe if you tell him to say, he might listen to you.”

you let out a gasp. “i can’t do that! that’d be so selfish of me!”

jiwoong can’t do anything to help you but share your miseries tonight. he simply sits in silence, waiting for the owner of the number he texted a while ago to make an appearance, and listen to your drunk ramblings at eleven in the evening.

“i miss my cat. i haven’t seen him the entire day because he says he had things to do with hanbin and hao.” you’ve melted into the table. high pitched whines aside, he’s surprised you’re still coherent at this point. “bring me back my cat. i miss him so much. i miss my cat. i miss my ricky. i wish he’d never leave me.”

jiwoongs eyes flit up. “looks like your cat misses you too.” he pulls himself up from his chair and picks up his jacket from the backrest. “took you long enough.”

when you tip your head back in confusion, wondering who the hell jiwoong is talking to, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the upside-down face of the cat you’ve been missing.

“ah,” you sound out. “you’re here.”

“thanks, hyung,” ricky settles a hand on the top of your head. you blink. now you understand why he liked headpats so much. “i’ll take care of her from here.”

this is eye opening. you feel your eyelids growing heavier as ricky continues to massage your head, his and jiwoong’s faraway voices talking about something, something you can’t really hear, until jiwoong waves off, and it’s just you and ricky in front of the quiet flickering lights of the convenience store entrance.

you hear yourself whine when ricky’s hand disappears from the top of your head. “you should’ve called me if you missed me,” he says, circling from behind the chair to being in front of you now. he crouches down, settling his crossed arms on your lap, and he looks up at you with his pretty swoopy eyes. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i need to get used to you not being around even if i miss you,” you say, letting your fingers sink into the soft strands of his hair.

ricky lets out a questioning hum. “why wouldn’t i be around?”

“because your deadline is near,” you grumble. “i have to return you to where i first picked you up, but i don’t want to. but you have to. this sucks so much.”

you’re still saddled with insobriety, and the fact that your sweet cat isn’t purring like usual when you’re patting his head is making your bottom lip quiver and your eyes sting because you fear you might’ve said something wrong. “aren’t you gonna ask me what i did today?” he simply asks. you suck in a wavering breath and swallow a lump in your throat.

“what...did you do today?”

“hanbin hyung helped me settle the requirements for my transfer” ricky lands a gentle hold on your wrist and brings your hand down to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. it’s warm. “i’m going to continue attending here. hao hyung is too.”

you blink at him. “w—what?”

“i don’t have to leave. you don’t have to keep missing me.” he brings your hand down palm to the front of his lips, pressing a kiss into your palm. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m yours to keep.”

it takes you a moment to register ricky’s words, so you stay there for a while— sitting frozen in cold silence until the warmth of his messages finally settles in to thaw you out. oh, you think. “oh,” you repeat out loud, voice wavering. ricky hums out a smile at your reaction. he rises, pulling you up to your feet, and you stumble into him.

“i think i know the perfect line for this moment,” he says, steadying a hold on the small of your back. “what was it? if I don't see you, i get upset. If you're depressed, i get curious. something like that?”

“it’s the other way around, dummy.” you sniffle. “why do you keep quoting nam joohyuk?” 

“because he’s cool,” he says. “let’s go watch start-up at your place once you’ve sobered up.”

the cat you picked from the university’s foreign exchange program is clingy, sweet, and is for some reason obsessed with quoting the dramas he’s been watching. he keeps an arm around you when he walks you back to your apartment after grieving over his departure, only to kiss you with the news that you don’t have to return him any time soon.

YOURS TO KEEP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[fruitmins]

Purple Car | jungkook

➭ summary: in which jungkook is a successful solo idol and your his long time girlfriend that he hasn’t seen in almost two months. again. it’s starting to feel like your more like distant friends more than lovers so when you unexpectedly disappear, jungkook goes the distance to try to find you.

➭genre: solo idol jk x reader, drabble

➭warnings: none really. a little angsty and depressing. there’s a couple bad words

➭note: first post🥳 | heard a snippet of the acoustic version of ‘car outside’ and this was the outcome sooo feedback would be appreciated.

Jungkook’s eyes begin to strain as he stared at the blue screen with wide and glossy eyes. He didn’t care how badly he was damaging his eyes. It didn’t even cross his mind for a second. He could barely process the information that was on the screen. But still, he stared at it in disbelief. How could he care about himself when the most important person he cared about was missing?

‘nearest train station’

‘train tickets to Daegu’

According to your laptop that was the last thing you had googled. The last time you had used it being almost an hour ago.

His heavy heart sank. Would the train be gone by now?

No. He didn’t want to think of the possibility that you actually left him. You two had always talked about going to Daegu together. Going out to hotels and spending the days happily touring together.

Jungkook’s throat ran dry as he thought about the word touring. When was the last time he actually spent quality time with you? He had just came back from a month tour, promoting his new solo album. He had spent weeks prior getting ready for it and his schedule became full in an instant.

He felt bad and had always planned on making up for lost time as soon as he was done. He knew that after his company would leave him alone for once and he was set on making you his top priority after.

He always made sure to call you at least once a day when on tour, or send little gifts and things to the house in an attempt to cheer you up.

Jungkook glanced around the room, some of his latest gifts not even out of the box. At first, he was constant with the calls and gifts. They would be sweet and meaningful. But as the tour continued the more tired he got. His calls were short and late at night and his gifts became small and less frequent.

His stomach swelled with guilt at the thought. How could he do this to you? Abandon you, make promises, and give you false hope. He remembered the words he said to you to cheer you up.

‘It’ll be over soon before you know it.’

‘When I get back we’ll have the best nights of our lives.’

‘I promise to call you more babe.’

‘I promise I’m fine babe, everything will go back to normal when I’m done.’

‘Stop fucking freaking out so much.’

Most of the time, his mind was clouded by exhaustion and pressure he forgot about the things he said. It felt like all the nights before he slept was like a drunken blur. All he could remember was being on stage and wanting to do good for his fans.

Well now he remembered. All the dry talks between you two. All of the half hearted things he said while slurring, barely awake. Sometimes almost yelling at you whenever you spoke to loud or to much. It was clear as time went he became more moody and distant.

He felt sick.

On the king sized bed, next to the earlier gifts laid your phone. No wonder you hadn’t been answering your phone. Did you really go the extra mile to leave everything at home?

No, he thought again. This must mean your in the house. Maybe the shower, or you went for a walk. Why would you leave your phone?

He tapped on the screen as it lit up. His handful of text showed on the screen. Your phone was almost dead and seemed completely untouched.

12:02AM

Even though he knew you never took showers this late, he went to the master bathroom to take a peek. Nothing. There was limited places you could be hiding, and he had already checked the place once he realized you weren’t home when he first arrived. You weren’t ANYWHERE. Not even in the guest bedroom.

Now he was really starting to panic as realization set in. He had screwed up. He had played with your emotions. He had left you one to many times. Now you were leaving him.

Now he was feeling everything that you had been for the past month and a half, and every other time a big event happened. He felt abandoned, sad, ditched and empty. How the fuck did he not realize what he was doing? How did he not realize how you were feeling? Why didn’t you talk to him? Did you? Not like he could really remember if you had.

‘nearest train station’

He clicked on your past search to see the exact responds. Shit. It wasn’t that far from the house. Only fifteen minutes to be exact. And you had been ghosting him for an hour.

He sprung into action at the realization. He would just had to hope that the train didn’t leave yet. To just hope that you went to early or that you had changed your mind.

He jumps into his car. Not caring that he wasn’t even supposed to be out this late, especially not in his recognizable purple car. Something even his fans knew was his prized possession since he and your favorite color was purple. In his purple car he felt like any other normal person. Especially when you were in the car with him. Now if just felt empty.

He practically sped to the train station (he actually did go over the speed limit a little), immediately parking his car in a random lot before booking it inside the large building.

Inside, he is immediately hit by a sense of bustling activity and the sound of people rushing to catch their trains as his eyes try to scan to look for you. Even though it’s early in the morning, there’s still a bunch of people.

Even when it’s a little dark inside the station since the sun isn’t up yet, he can spot a variety of posters and signs, displaying information about train schedules, destinations, and services available at the station.

He runs to the board, looking for the word Daegu and the color from his face drains when he finds it. The last train to Daegu had left at 11pm. Almost an hour ago. And what’s even worse is that he couldn’t even get a ticket till six.

He almost growled at the board out of anger. What he wasn’t going to do was sit around for five hours while you would be at a foreign place with no phone and nothing to defend yourself with. Especially since you were arriving at such a late time. He was not going to sit around when he had a perfectly good private jet.

Jungkook didn’t care who he woke up. He was the most successful man under his company and getting even more popular around the world. If he wanted a private jet ready at twelve o clock, he was going to get it.

Jungkook would be arriving to Daegu a big whopping thirty minutes before you, and it would take him a decent amount of time to get to the train station you would be arriving it. In short, Jungkook was seriously cutting it short.

If he was even a second to late, you’d disappear into the sea of people and his chances of finding you would decrease drastically by the minute.

Despite being exhausted and sleep deprived, Jungkook couldn’t sleep on the jet. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. All he could do is refrain himself from tearing out his own hair by repeating calling your number, listening to your voice mail for comfort since he knew you wouldn’t answer.

Once his phone had died, all he had was his thoughts. The depressing feeling of sorrow and loss took over him as he cried his eyes out. He missed you and he hated that he drew you away. He hate that he hurt you. He couldn’t imagine a life without you. He wanted to marry you for God’s sake. He felt like his chest was crashing the more he was away from you.

Finally, after he arrived he had a car waiting for him to take him to the train station. He had requested the same purple car he had left back at home, it didn’t feel right picking you up in an all black shaded windowed limo. Whenever you both went somewhere you took that car. You two had spent camping trips and dinner dates in that car. Sure it was newer and wasn’t his car but it was close enough.

He drove himself to the train station and ran inside the building as fast as he could. His face was hidden with a hat and mask as he tried his best to blend in with the people while still desperately trying to reach the platforms.

When he did, he saw one train already letting off a load of people. Jungkook immediately grew terrified. Did you already get off? Did he already lose you? A million thoughts ran through his head as his eyes started to water again.

He didn’t stop walking till he was at the front of the platform, watching as the people who got off with smiles reunited with family members or friends.

Jungkook watched the train empty, looking through the windows in hopes of getting a glimpse of you still inside. But it was mostly empty. You must of been one of the first people to get off. You must of been in a rush to get away from him. To start over. To leave him like he had done you.

Jungkook’s heavy head dropped, looking straight at the ground with closed eyes as tears started to fall. Grieving over the loss of his soulmate. And he could only blame himself.

He wished he could turn back time and do things differently, but he knew that was impossible. All he could do now was try to pick up the pieces of his shattered life and move forward, even though he had no idea how to do that without his wife by his side. But he would always missing you piece of his life..

“Jungkook?”

Jungkook’s body immediately froze at his name. The voice was behind him and spoke with a shaky voice but he was positive it sounded just like you. Was his mind fucking with him? Did he actually hear your voice? For the first time in a month? Were you still here? Did he still have a chance?

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he turned around, a little cautious. His breathing stopped when he met your red eyes. It was you. Only a couple steps away from him. You looked different. More skinny, you had on older clothes. Not the ones he bought you. And he could tell by your tear stained cheek and puffy eyes that you had been crying for a while. But you still looked beautiful. He missed your eyes, your touch, your smell..

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped towards you. His arms immediately wrapped around you as he gave you a tight hug and held you. His tears were spilling more violently as he sobbed into you. Relief rushed through him as he held you. You didn’t push him away, but you didn’t exactly hug him either. But he didn’t care. As long as he got to hug you. He was scared of letting you go. He didn’t want you to leave, and he didn’t want to leave either.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He managed to choke out and soon enough you began to cry with him, becoming emotional in his arms. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He repeated, the first genuine words he said to you in a while. Your familiar soothing smell with the warmth of your small figure stopped him from having a full out panic attack.

“Jungkook I—“ you started to speak but he quickly shook his head, pulling away to analyze your face. He looked into your eyes with such relief and care but sadness still filled his expression. He was still scared you wouldn’t forgive him. That he had still lost you.

“I’m terrible Y/N. I didn’t realize just how much I let my job take over my life. Our life. I missed you Y/N I really did. I love you. I love you more than myself. I don’t wanna leave you anymore.” He said quickly pulling you back into a tight embrace, and this time he almost melted when your arms wrapped around him. He wanted to say so much more but he couldn’t form the words. It was paining him just seeing you cry.

“Please, give me a second chance to fix things. I’m not going anywhere without you Y/N.” He said, his desperate words spoken in a firm voice. He wanted to let you know just how serious he was about his words.

“Don’t promise anything..” you mumbled. The first proper-ish sentence you’ve said the whole time. He missed your voice, it wasn’t the same over the phone but your words stung. Did you not trust him? Did you think he would abandon you? Cause if so he’d get on his knees and propose to you right there.

“I just don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to leave you.” He sobbed into your shoulder honestly. Jungkook had always been a little shy with crying, even in front of you. But he was willing to expose himself to you. To let you know how he really felt.

“I-I won’t. Leave..” You choked out in a low voice and Jungkook was immediately over the moon. All his worries and fears washed away at your words. “I love you.” You spoke, this time in a stronger but gentle voice as his grip loosened a little around you.

He responded by pulling down his mask and kissing you with starving lips. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled your body against his. You kissed him back, melting in his touch as the world around you disappeared. You both had missed each others touch and you practically cried of happiness at the familiar warmth of his lips on yours.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, Jungkook leaned his forehead so it was touching yours. He closed his eyes and took everything in as he continued to hold your waist. Never would he be leaving you again. Never.

— A YEAR LATER —

“You ready for the tour baby?” Jungkook asked you in a gentle and soothing voice when he slithered behind you, wrapping his arms around you and putting his head on your shoulder. He gave you a kiss on your neck as he watched you pack your large suitcase.

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to visit all the different places.” You said with a wide smile as you leaned into his touch. When Jungkook cleared his voice you giggled. “And watch you preform of course.” A satisfied smirk showed on his lips at your response.

“Well I’m glad your happy.” He replied with a warm smile, his voice filled with joy and happiness.

Because what you didn’t know was that on the last day of the tour in Daegu, Jungkook was going to propose to you after singing Still With You.

[garfunklefield]

HIII❤️can you write sukuna x reader with narcolepsy🙏

I’m Gon’ Talk You Thru It!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: established relationship, soft sukuna, consensual somnophilia, oral sex [female receiving], vaginal sex, creampie, this isn't realistic at all IM SORRY Word count: 1594 DESC: Your boyfriend battles your narcolepsy!

This was such a creative ask, thanks!!

The first time it happened, he genuinely thought you died. You’d think being in a committed two-month relationship would make you apt to tell your boyfriend you had narcolepsy, but it slipped your mind. Ryomen just sat there momentarily as you drifted to sleep, first thinking you were joking. Then he called your name, then again, then again. You didn’t wake up. He grabbed your shoulders and prepared to drag you to the ER himself when you let out a breath and began to snore. Oh. You didn’t die. Still, you confused and scared that man half to death. After doing one Google search he concluded everyone just falls asleep mid-sentence at some point in their life, right?

Once you did wake up though, you told him about it. You didn’t give him many details just, that you fall asleep sometimes and it’s tough to wake you from that kind of sleep. Sukuna didn’t have many questions, which brings us to the current picture. 

Your boyfriend was balls-deep in your wetness, sending mewls of pleasure from your opened mouth. He was pounding you with no sense of how rough he was, giving you all he had. It was hot and sticky. His cock clung to your walls, getting stuck from how you clenched around him. He fucked you good, but never like this. Something was different. Maybe it was that small little skirt you wore or that new perfume. But Ryomen couldn’t keep his hands off of you. He groaned into your ear, hips thrusting against your own. 

His hands were groping any part of you that he could grab, while yours were scratching against his back, “R-Ryo..” You whined, leaning your head back, “F-mm sh..shit.. F-fuck.. I’m gonna…” You dragged out the last syllable, bringing your face closer to his. He could see the pleasure building in your features and he loved pleasing you like that. He was the only one who could fuck you this good. 

You had met Ryomen Sukuna at college, he was on your track team. The two of you never spoke, until you were paired for a partner race. He was notorious for being loud and menacing, which he was. You tried to switch out with your coach, but he wouldn’t let you. So, you stuck it out. In doing so, you got to know him better and saw Ryomen wasn’t that scary, once you peeled some layers back. He was competitive, a fire lighting inside him when you won the last half of the race. His cheers were loud and they made you realize he wasn’t too bad. Maybe that’s why you gave him your number, and maybe you developed feelings. It was slow, but your relationship grew strong. 

The only thing was, in being with him for a few months, your narcolepsy had never interfered with your sex life. You were on medicine, so your fainting spells happened rarely. But today, you had been more tired than normal. You didn’t say no when Ryomen initiated, even when you started to feel one coming on. 

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, “I’m.. I..” But then your eyes rolled back and you laid limply against the bed. It took your boyfriend a moment to register you had fallen asleep, or more like passed out, underneath him. 

He slowed his thrusts to a stop and slowly leaned back, resting on his knees, dick deep inside your pussy, “Hm.” The man just sat there for a moment, debating exactly what the hell to do. 

You had told him what to do in case this had ever happened, but he wasn’t sure. Yeah, he was a scary big man, but he wouldn’t go past your boundaries. Typically, he’d ask before ever laying a finger on your lovely form, that’s why consensual somnophilia took him a second to get adjusted to. You told him it was okay, in fact, you encouraged it. He had your word it would be okay, but he still hesitated. It took Ryomen another minute of debating before he sighed and got back into position, laying his front against you and thrusting into your pussy. Still wet, aching for him. You were tight, clenching around his cock as he slowly pushed himself in. Warm, sticky, perfect. He let out an involuntary moan and ground his hips to the sensation of your cunt swallowing him whole. 

“F-fuck,” he whispered, “Mm..” His voice was gruff against the squelches from your pussy. You lay there, mouth slightly open as he fucked into you. You looked so pretty and helpless, lying there without moving. Ryomen trailed his right hand up to your cheek, cupping it gently. He was never the type to be vulnerable, or even gentle, especially when it came to sex. But, the way you just took it, laid there, it elicited something deep within him. A fire, something burning in his stomach. Your back arched to the sensation as he hit your pretty G-spot. He knew how to fuck you so well, making your body react without you even being aware. 

Defenseless. Helpless. That’s what you were in that moment. And Ryomen had never felt more connected to you. Something about feeling you, holding you close, making you pleasured even when you were unconscious, it was hot. He could feel your body reacting, almost in a primal and instinctual way. That’s what was beginning to send him over the edge. His jaw clenched, teeth grinding as he began to feel himself fall apart. You didn’t wake up, not even when he came into you, thrusting in spurts of cum from his tip. You moaned, mouth opening to make a small O-shape before it closed and you let out a small snore. 

Sukuna continued to push into you, longing his orgasm as much as he possibly could. Once it was done, and all he could do was feel a tickling sensitivity down his shaft, he pulled out. You were still asleep. One part of him was offended he didn’t fuck you good enough that you’d wake up, but the other was thrilled. He could continue to do things to your body until you woke, maybe even mid-orgasm if he was good enough. He liked that control, being able to touch you in any way he wanted. However, he only stayed within the bounds of what you two had agreed on. 

Your boyfriend pulled out, groaning at the sensation. Typically, he’d wait and let his cum seep out of your tight hole, then eat you out. But the fire was still burning hot. Besides, he didn’t mind the taste of his cum. Ryomen knelt, face to face with your pretty pussy. One hand hovered over your clit, while the other spread apart your folds. His mouth connected with your cunt and he could taste himself on his cum. It seeped into his mouth and rolled along his tongue, his tongue that flicked around your cunt. You inhaled sharply and groaned softly, moving your hips to the sensation. Unsuspecting and totally aroused. 

One of his fingers lightly rubbed on your clitoris, making your moans louder. You were being so good for him, it was making him strain against the bed. His hips started to rut into the mattress, giving Sukuna some sort of stimulation. Your gasps and light whines were doing things to him that they hadn’t done before. Maybe it was the fact you couldn’t control how your body reacted to the pleasure, or the fact it was his pleasure that was making you sound so cute. Either way, he could tell you were becoming close. Your breaths got quicker, your moans louder, and your hips ground harder. 

“Ry..Ryom..” You suddenly spoke, causing him to tilt his head to look at him. Your eyes were hazy, sleep-riddled, and your smile was lazy, “Aw.. b-baby..” You cooed, a small hand running through his hair. He could have melted right there, you were so pretty, even with messy hair. He pulled back from your cunt and assaulted his lips with yours. You gasped and caved into the kiss, wrapping arms around his neck to press him in against you. Two tongues collided, followed by some teeth. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouths as he licked into you. Needing you. Wanting you so bad it was starting to hurt. 

“Let me,” he broke away from the kiss, “Put it in..” Sukuna’s voice was gruff and low, spilling into your ears like honey. You nodded, pulling his lips back in. It felt so good as they molded against each other, breaking apart for air and then delving right back in. His rough hand slid down your front and grabbed his swollen dick, pressing the tip to your throbbing pussy. You wanted to cum so much and on his dick. You were teased, poked, and prodded, aching for release.

Ryomen thrust into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips, “Pe..perfect,” you gaped, trying not to make too much noise. It felt so good, how his big log rubbed against your insides and made your tummy bulge. 

Even if it had just been a few months, you loved him and he loved you. Although, you hadn’t said it yet. Would now be a good time to say it? Ryomen was really debating it as he buried his cock into your warmth. But the seconds slipped into minutes and he didn’t say a word, letting the room be filled by your pathetic moans. 

You two really needed to do this more often.

[veritasangel]

Planets aligned

⋆ ｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: one suggestive mention ↣ {wc: 1.1k}

↣ 141 fluff, with some gaz x reader / hints of ghoap and babysitter price / 141 reader!

↣ been in a writing slump, so sometimes you just have to write something shit to get over it, hopefully...

In hindsight, this probably should've been thought out more.

You were all out on an open field in the middle of the night. You had some makeshift tents around you, that were actually a pretty embarrassing sight, considering they were put up by a group of trained soldiers. 

“Remind me why you dragged us out ‘ere in the freezing cold.” Soap grumbles as he huddles up under a blanket with a hot chocolate, looking more like a whining child than anything.

“I told you this already, Johnny. I wanna see Jupiter and tonight’s a great time for it.” you smile, a slight gleam in your eye that Simon chuckles at. 

“Let the poor dove enjoy their hobbies, you mopey bastard.” Simon tells him.

“I’m just sayin’, why out here? I’ve seen planets, ya ken? It’s called google.” Soap says defensively.

Kyle sighs, as he finishes helping you put the telescope together. Opting to ignore the stupid words coming out of Soap’s mouth and instead saying, “Well I, for one, would like to see them too... You can always leave us to it.”

“Well I dinnae say I wanted to leave. ‘sides, we came down in Price’s truck and unless he gives me his keys-”

“Not happening.” Price interrupts Soap, and you almost forgot he was there. Sitting a little further back with his cigar, watching over the group like a parent forced to watch over their kids sleepover.

A comfortable silence settled over the group not long after that and it was nice for you guys to have this moment of peace to yourselves.

Kyle was meticulously double checking the telescope whilst looking back at the instructions he’d deemed ‘stupid and unreadable’. Though he was insistent on making sure it was all perfectly set up for you so he quietly focused on it.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he did so. His forearms flexing subtly as he tightens the adjustments. The faint glow of the moonlight across his skin, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the gentle curve of his lips, slightly parted in concentration.

Lips you only had the pleasure of kissing one time when you were both tipsy at a christmas party. Honestly you could hardly even call it a kiss, it was just a messy attempt at one.

Simon, smirking at you who's obviously checking Gaz out, can’t help but say, “More than happy to be here ‘an all, love, but couldn’t this have just been a date for you two?”

“I agree, because now we’re third wheeling.” Soap huffs dramatically.

“Third wheeling? Fuck off, you’re practically sitting on Simon’s dick.” you scoff.

“Am not!” Soap blurts out.

“I mean you kinda' are.” Kyle adds in, turning around to see how close the two of them are, eyebrows raising curiously at Simon. “So if anyone’s third wheeling here, it’s Price.”

Price snaps out of his momentary daze, “What?” he grumbles, seeing you all turn to look at him.

“Doesn’t matter-” you begin, “Look, I thought it would be nice for all of us to see it, you know, a bonding experience.”

“We’ve been on the verge of death together more times than the average person, ‘think we’ve bonded plenty.” Price finally engages in conversation.

“Well sue me for thinking we could bond in a more pleasant way, such as me sharing my hobbies. This is my love language.” you sigh with a small laugh and the guys just smile at your antics.

After a few more jokes at your expense and some dramatics from Soap, the five of you all eventually settled down, gathering around the telescope as it got later into the night. They wouldn’t outright admit it, but they were enjoying the time you were spending together and were definitely getting in the spirit of seeing the planet. 

Price and Simon were debating over who could read a compass better as they wanted to point the telescope in the perfect direction. Meanwhile, Soap was reading through an article that dated the possible planet sightings for the rest of the year. Whilst you and Kyle were peacefully waiting, his arms wrapped around you as he reiterated that it was just to keep you warm.

You smiled as his eyes met yours, neither of you saying anything out of fear of the group’s teasing but you didn’t really need to. You just knew what the other was thinking with that small look. One of his hands drawing patterns on your arm that you’d notice were hearts if you could pay attention to anything other than how he was looking at you.

“Well ye, because the book says this one with Jupiter is visible today, on wednesday.” Soap rambles on.

You weren’t even paying attention to the others as you shared this brief moment with Kyle, him grinning at you cheekily. His eyes, dark and sparkling with mischief, seemed to shine even brighter. There's always been an effortless magnetism about him that just pulls you in. Your breath catches for a moment as you realise just how much his smile affects you, how it makes you feel so comfortable and safe.

He notices you staring, and his smile grows, his dimples becoming even more pronounced. "What?" he asks, voice teasing but gentle, his eyes searching yours.

You shake your head slightly, a smile of your own tugging at your lips. "Nothing," you reply, though you know he can see right through you. He’s always been able to, ever since that day you first met when you were both just clueless rookies.

God, how many years has it been of you two just pining after each other?

Wait a minute....

“Hold on- Johnny, did you say wednesday?” you say, snapping out of it and sitting up to look over at the others.

“Aye.”

“Fuck.” you mumble, glancing down at your phone.

The guys all look confused until Simon looks down at his own phone, facepalming as he laughs, “It’s Monday.”

The groan that follows is instantaneous as they realise you’ve dragged them out here and had all of this set up only to realise it’s the wrong day. And of course it is, because when can you all do anything smoothly together.

“Soo, about that…”

Price shakes his head as he stands up. “You’re lucky we love you.”

“Where’ you going?” Kyle pipes up as he sees Price heading towards one of the tents.

“Well, we’ve set this all up now, might as well have a ‘bonding’ camping experience.” He jokes, emphasising your earlier choice of words.

So you guys do exactly that. And well…it’s an interesting camping experience to say the least.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[spdrslayr]

003. atsv headcanons ! ★ pre collider jonathon ohnn x reader…

! pt. 2 - post collider hcs. ⁀➷ srcs... masterlist .rules. intro .

| synopsis, ୨♡୧ a little glimpse into your relationship with dr. johnathon ohnn.

★ tags -> gender neutral reader; johnathon ohnn; the spot; fluff; etc...

★ warnings -> cursing; johnathon being a meanie; mentions of trauma & abandonment

★ w.c -> 1,028

| xox, mei! ୨♡୧ -> earlier a centipede got into my room while i was bopping out to hyperpop. it scared me so much that i was able to leverage the fear into energy for writing.

he loves to make you laugh. johnathon’s such a  goof compared to other renowned scientists of his age and caliber. really, it’s a breath of fresh air. he knows how to have fun, especially with you.  he’ll crack the funniest joke at work only for his coworkers to look at him like: 😐😐😐; so it makes him really happy to know you think he’s funny. you both have so many inside jokes n stories that you’ll cherish forever.

he’s totally the type of person to make jokes whenever he’s nervous or unsure of what to say. he won you over by being silly!

he’ll say the meanest jokes about people you both don’t like, and it’s insanely funny. you think of your johnny as the sweetest boyfriend- but you have to admit, it’s kinda hot when he’s mean.

“if mr.fisk keeps crying about the mets- i’m gonna make sure this collider kills us all,” he grumbled under his breath.

“that annoying photographer visited alchemax again. what was his name…” he feigned innocence. “piper pickle?”

johnathon is such a nerd. it’s adorable how excited he gets about his favorite video games and movies. please indulge in his geeky interests!! he’d love love LOVE to watch some of his favorite sci-fi movies with you. he’ll talk over the entire movie, but it’s still nice to cuddle.

 if you don’t know how to play a certain video game of his, he’ll teach you. his voice is so soft n understanding, his breath tickling you while you cuddle. johnathon’s squished to your side, his large hands covering n guiding yours over the controller. and gets so giddy when you win something. all in all, he’s just happy to share something so dear to him with you.

imagine if it turned out one of his favorite characters (crushes cough cough) bore a striking resemblance to you. johnathon is mortified and you’re weirdly flattered (and planning an elaborate cosplay for a surprise.)

his intelligence drives you nuts. it’s INSANELY attractive to you how smart johnathon is. whenever he goes on a tangent about physics or some complicated mathematical concept, you get kind of dizzy listening to him. you don’t mean to, but after a while, you get too distracted by all of him to listen. he’s so passionate, his large hands and long fingers waving about to help emphasize his point. his eyes are sparkling too. his voice got a lot deeper when he (perfectly, by the way) pronounced the word “viscoelasticity” and you’re on cloud 9. this happens whether or not you can understand a word he’s saying. and if you’re not well versed in science, he never talks down to you when rambling. sure, he’s very proud to be a super-genius, but he’d never dream of looking down on other people because of it. 

you’re always asking him questions and he fucking loves it. DON’T ASK GOOGLE ABOUT SCIENCE SHIT. if you do he’ll be all pouty n sad.

“hey siri, what is the shape of an electron-”

he looks furious, letting out a scoff. “i’m right here. your smart-ass boyfriend is only a few feet away and you’re asking ol’ googly eyes!”

despite being a busy workaholic, he insists that he’s never too busy for you. if necessary, he’ll make time.

johnathon’s made it his mission to outsmart anyone who impresses you. “i’m not jealous i’m BETTER.”

johnathon adores cuddling you, especially after a stressful day. he just loves you so much that sometimes the only way he can express that to you is by holding you as close as humanly possible. johnathon adores every inch of your being and intends to appreciate every part of it, scars and all. one may expect him to be the big spoon because, well, long man- but it goes either way. sometimes he clutches you like his life depends on it and other times he just needs to bask in your embrace. it makes him feel safe, loved, and on his worst days, invincible.

when in bed, he’ll be running his big hands up and down your sides, rubbing circles into every dent n curve. his hands are hairy, so it’ll tickle a bit, but the way he massages you is nothing short of masterful. he’s so happy that you’re his, so he makes sure to savor you.

johnny loves it when you trace his tattoos. he thinks it’s so cute how much you love them, letting you ‘oooh’ and ‘awww’ as much as your pretty little heart desires. 

in the past he absolutely loathed going to alchemax events. being choked by a black tie for a whole ass evening while being forced to mingle with rich assholes is a nightmare for the poor man. but having you come along as his date makes the experience a more positive one. johnathon gets so smug, always delighted to show you off. like yeah, that’s MY s/o. yes they’re gorgeous and taken. by ME. he loves seeing you all dressed up, especially when you’re on his arm.

he’s an introvert, so he gets tired of all the socializing quickly. when that happens, he’ll wander around the venue with you (including places you aren’t allowed to be at-) to get some privacy (and make out.)

speaking of work, he has a picture of you on his desk. he has it placed at an angle so he can see it clearly, but so can anyone who walks in. 

johnnys practically screaming: “hey!! look at how beautiful my partner is!!!!”

he calls you baby. he’ll also call you dear, honey, and sweetheart, but baby the most. also counting babe. johnathon has a shit ton more cute nicknames for you and he is NOT afraid to use them.

“g’morning, baby,” he’ll murmur into the crook of your neck, in between sloppy wet kisses on your shoulder.

he passes by you in a rush, but not without pressing a big wet kiss to your check, “hi babe! :)”

“baaaaaabe where did you put the chips?” he can be whiny, especially with you.

“i love you, baby,” he’d tell you softly, cradling your face with his hand. his thumb is rubbing your bottom lip and you’re ready to faint.

[min1check]

Leto! Joker x Side Chick! Reader part 2

1033 words dw im writing the smut part and again barely proofread so im sorry if u find mistakes

pt 1

description: you work at one of joker’s clubs and he begins to take interest in you… pt 2

I got my window fixed and a new bowl thankfully. If it was just me living there at the apartment I wouldn’t care about the bowl but I was preparing for my family to come and live with me. 

But for some reason I began looking for Mr. J more and more. But he stopped coming to the club. I didn’t know why. Maybe he got tired of me?

Actually I’m stupid. That’s a good thing. He cheated on Harley…

…with me. 

That goes against all and every girl code out there. What am I doing with my life? I need to focus on school and work. 

The night I got home was when I started receiving gifts from him. Sometimes it was flowers, sometimes it was cash, sometimes it was even food. Every night I felt guilty. 

One day, Joker finally showed up to the club, with Harley. The feeling I felt so strongly in my heart was guilt. (And jealousy but i’ll never admit that) 

I placed down the drinks they usually ordered. 

“Sorry hun! Puddin wants to try something different today.” Harley spoke to me. 

I smiled back. 

“What would Mr. and Mrs. J want today?” I smiled. 

“Hmm… Doll what should I get today?” He turned to Harley.

I froze up at the nickname. I should’ve known that nickname wasn’t just for me. It was mad fucking embarrassing. It didn’t just feel embarrassing it made me feel disgusting and fucking nasty. 

I could feel my face getting red from anger and embarrassment. 

It looked like Mr. J could sense how I felt as he had the same grin on his face. It made me realize that being with him was dangerous for my mind and body. Yet there was something about him that was unexplainably alluring. 

“Oooo~ I really liked the green thing we had last time!” Harley smiled ever so sweetly. 

I went back to reality. 

“We’ll have the absinthe.” The Joker looked at me up and down with a grin. 

I’m a fool. 

“Yes I’ll get that for you right away.” I smiled and walked off. 

I’m so fucking stupid. 

“Wow, that was fast, Miss Waiter!” Harley exclaimed. 

“Thank you Mrs. J.” I tried my best to sound like I was laughing genuinely. 

Joker just grinned at me like usual. 

I couldn’t tell you about what I remembered about my shift except for that part. I got home quickly that night. On my table was a note with an address

written. 

I quickly gathered all the random presents Joker left for me and put it in a box neatly. 

It wasn’t right of me to let myself be a mistress. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself catch even bigger feelings either. Why was I jealous of Harley even though he was already hers? It’s not right of me to think of such a thing. I’m not about to be a homewrecker. 

But what if he reacted badly to me saying no? He’s literally batshit crazy. He wouldn't hesitate to blow my head off. I still have a lot of things to live for. Maybe I should just stay home. 

But if he gave me this note tonight then he wants me to come tonight. Right?

So what if I had a slight smile currently? He’s hot and i like being wanted, that's all. 

I googled how far the address was and it was actually pretty close. I quickly arrived at the address. I knocked on the door and was met with a shirtless Joker. 

I touched my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling. 

“Hi I’m sorry but I can’t accept this Mr. J.” I said quietly while trying to avoid looking at his man tities and his ripped ass chest. 

There was no grin on his face but more like a scowl. It shook me to my very core. I was too used to his devilish grin. (It was kinda hot though…) 

“Doll you’re breaking my heart! Those gifts were just for you!” His usual grin appeared on his face again. It 

His use of the same pet name for Harley and me was repulsive. Yet it made my heart twist and turn. 

“Give these gifts to your actual girlfriend Mr.

J. I don’t want to disturb your relationship and I need to focus on school and work.” I couldn’t bear to look at him so I focused my attention on the ground. 

He put the box of gifts I held in my hands down on the floor. 

“Aww~ Are you jealous Princess? Harley is my girlfriend, yes. But you’re the only one that’s in this smalllll tinyyyy heart.” He put my hand onto his chest. 

Would he kill me if I squeezed it a bit? 

“…” I didn’t want to retort back and get my head blown off. But this whole thing we had was morally wrong. And I knew if I fell in even more love with him I could never escape those feelings. I don’t want to die. 

“Mr. J we can’t- I can’t do this. You already have a girlfriend and I need to focus on-“ 

I was cut off by him shushing me with his finger. 

“You can’t but I definitely can. Who said anyone needed to know about us, Doll?” He held me in his arms. 

“But Mr. J…” I was conflicted. 

My life or him? 

“C’mon Princess~ be with me. I’ll make sure you never worry again.” He said like he knew exactly what I was thinking. 

He kissed me…

And I kissed back. 

He’s probably done this to so many other girls but my body, heart, and mind couldn’t escape him. 

Maybe a few more days wouldn’t hurt. 

I spent the night with him. When I woke up he had already left. There was a note left next to me with his number on it. 

I felt lonely. 

My knees literally buckled with every step I took. It was really bad. I thought I was gonna fall multiple times. Thankfully I was able to get into my apartment and I slept for a little longer. Yet it felt cold without the warmth of Mr. J. 

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[lemonandlime22]

May I request Vil, Azul, Trey, and Jade with a Gn! yuu who’s first language isn’t english, so they struggle speaking and struggle with the assignments.

Vil, Azul, Trey, and Jade with Yuu that has a different native language

Warning(s): cussing, fish mafia doing fish mafia things, not edited

A/N: ty for requesting! i hope you like it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vil Schoenheit

I personally hc that Vil's native language is German so he understands some of your struggles

he went through the same thing when he was first learningWhich I’m sure was when he was very little

But anyway, he’ll sometimes offer tips on how to pronounce things correctly and remember some grammar things that can get tricky.

If you ask he’ll usually help translate assignments or help you understand them,

You’ll probably have small language study sessions with both Vill and Rook

Heck maybe you’ll learn both French and German if you don’t already

Overall, he's a willing tutor if you ask and p good one at that! Also prob the most helpful out of all these guys

But warning, he is ruthless and incredibly strict if you make it a normal tutoring session.

Good luck!!

Azul Ashengrotto

Get ready to be exploited bb <3

he's like a mini Crowley

Any whooo

As soon as he found out you were having trouble he swooped in and offered you a deal

he'll help you with assignments and learning the language

and you help him reach a wider customer base!

Your basically his free employee.

Btw there is like a 50/50 chance that he either is genuinely helping you or using the twisted wonderland version of google translate.

But there is a small chance that he just so happens to have been wanting to learn your native language

In that situation then you’ll just be helping each other

you tutor his abt your native tongue

and he helps you understand assignments and any words your having trouble with.

Overall, not a terrible experience, tho he is taking advantage of you there’s not much of a downside other then you having to translate the whole menu.

Trey Clover

Another one that would be happy to help

except you don't have to make a contract with him for that help.

He will help you the best he can but it's not much

I can see him kinda knowing one other language, but just enough to get basic info across

but that's about it

whether that's the same as your native language or not, he'll do his best to assist you in understanding some assignments.

He tries to make it fun too, like for every correct answer your able to get, he’ll make you your favorite baked good

If you don’t like baked good, then he’ll use his unique magic on it

Trey will also be very curious abt your culture and see if or how different it is from his.

Overall, prob the most pleasant experience, not rly the most helpful but at least he got the spirit.

Jade Leech

Your basically his free entertainment

this mischievous little bitch will intentionally give you the wrong translations of things

and fuck up your grammar with the power of gaslighting.

Buuut if he were to want to genuinely help you,,,

he would take advantage of the situation to tell you all abt

Every. Single. Type of fungi.

For every new dish you try of his is an assignment he’ll help you with.

Overall, good luck! In school and I’m eating those dishes.

You will need it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[leclercsloveletter]

CL16 | friends or not

Summary: You love Charles, but he keeps you treading on the line between friends and strangers. The humiliation and frustration finally got to you.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem reader

Words count: 1842

Warning: mention of sex, angsty I guess? Google translated french

Author’s note: Inspired by Zeph’s song I just love her music so much. This is my first time using tumblr to post fic so let me know if I can improve the formatting somehow to make it easier to read! Thank youu <3

"Hey Y/n, I'm in Monaco today, pull through?"

"Sure, usual time?"

He left a heart reaction to the text, the familiar dance of messages unfolded with practised precision. An occasional catch-up session with Charles over a glass of wine or within the intimate confines of your shared solitude has become the only constant rhythm in your situation with him. In fact, you don't remember the last time it wasn't like this. He texts you when he's around, and sometimes makes plans just to let it fall through at the last second. You understand he's a man of business, always busy and on his feet, but why would he even consider getting to know you when he knows he can't be at least present in your life as a friend? Worse, why did you allow him to get his way?

Charles Leclerc is the type of man to only text back half the time you texted him. You would be lucky if he read your messages, a lot of the time, he resorts to ghosting you for days or even weeks only to reply with short, blunt, generic answers. Sometimes you laugh to yourself at the audacity of this man, a virtuoso of unpredictability, to parade you around like his future girl during intimate dinners with his friends only to burst your bubble when he's back on the road again.

But sadly, Charles Leclerc is more than that. Besides his devilishly handsome face, he donned the facade of the happiest man alive, a veneer that temporarily eclipsed the shadows of uncertainty when you're finally allowed to occupy his precious time. The streets of Monte Carlo bore witness to your interplay of laughter and the tender clasping of hands. With him holding you so close to his chest the paparazzi can't snap a shot of his mystery girl. It gets to your head like a sick disease. Moments like that are when his existence woven itself seamlessly into the fabric of your life.

Between the white sheets plastered on your naked body and the whispers of the Medditerian sea, Charles Leclerc was your Charlie. The Charlie that speaks in fluent waves of serenity about his life on the road. His words are like a siren's song, drowning out the echoes of your longing that surface in his absence. In those stolen moments, he becomes the tranquil pulse that courses through the veins of your shared narrative. You wish you could tear him out of your skin.

"So, how's life?"

You start the conversation, sitting across from him in a restaurant on the edge of Monaco. Charles is gorgeous as always, in his cream-coloured sweaters that you spent many early mornings nuzzled in before he kindly pulled it off your frame.

"Would you believe me if I said it was kind of shit? Could've been a better season I guess. How about you?"

Charles replied with a laugh, sipping on the sweet wine with eyes fixed on you. It should be illegal for him to give you that look, the look that says he has a genuine interest in your existence.

"I can tell, you always call me when you panic. I think I had more calls from you this season than I ever had before."

A quiet acknowledgment, an attempt to make him realise the shared vulnerabilities you had for each other. You look around before continuing, the same restaurant where you first met, linked up through a mutual friend at a dinner party. He gave you his number over a glass of whiskey on the rock, leaving you full of naive anticipation to send the first text.

"I remember the first time I saw you here. I was starstruck to meet you in real life, clinging to every word you said, so excited when you handed me your number. I wish I wasn't the last thing on your mind Charlie."

Words flow out of you uncontrollably, you don't know why you said that. The pain bubbling up and closing behind your throat as you speak intrigues Charles who now wears an expression of confusion and slight frustration.

"What do you mean Y/n? You know how much you meant to me, tu es la meilleure chose sur terre, chérie."

His gaze softens, hands reaching out to pat a stray hair on your head. His attempt at reassurance softened the moment, yet a lingering doubt clung to the air. You wish he meant it, or meant it and not regret it.

"You're looking at me like that again. Like I'm the best thing on earth to you."

"Because you are-"

"Only because I'm the only one to look at. The second best of two is just last Charles."

Over that bar counter where he slipped you his number, when you were dwelling on the heartbreak of your last relationship, or when you found yourself crying in his living room over the loss of your friend, Charles always said he'd be there for you. Yet, in the crucible of reality, the promises seemed hollow. He's only there when nobody else needs him. You're a second thought to him, a blind spot he noticed when it's convenient. But a part of you desperately held on to Charles, wishing, praying, begging that one day you would be promoted to have a position in his life and not just an on-and-off fling he does.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

He said, voice just as calm and peaceful as you always knew. But filled with static and signals that you're tired of decoding. Right at that moment, you realise you could either move on or continue being his nuisance. To set yourself free from Charles's hot and cold would mean to be free of the games he set you in.

"Just reply to my text more often Charlie."

But to set yourself free from Charles also means to lose the love you drove through all the mixed signals for.

-

"Mon ange, what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much, just that time you brought me to dinner with Max and Kelly. It was nice."

The street of Monaco, viewed from the inside of Charles' car, was silent on a weeknight, surrounded by the sea where lights and chatters fell into white noise. It felt the same as the night when Charles hit you up last minute since he "didn't have a plus one for a party" which turns out to be just dinner with Max and his girlfriend Kelly who have to go on a work trip abroad next week.

Kelly sat across from you, mirroring one another: Women who are successful in their line of work, flowing with beauty and sophistication, have a world-class F1 driver accompany them while you all sit and gossip. The only difference is that she has a title and you don't.

"So Charles, when will Y/n be making paddock appearances? I think Ferrari would love it if you put on a show for the tifosi."

Max joked, tipsy over the seemingly unlimited alcohol on the table. Charles and you both choked on air, but you were flustered with your heart drumming in your chest, and Charles was trying to hide the scrunch of his nose.

"Ah I don't know Max, we are still trying to figure ourselves out. I'm in no rush to run PR and have Ferrari staging pap on me."

He sighs with a chuckle, Max and Kelly both wear concerned gazes seeing your face drop. In your head, the world stops spinning, he doesn't even have the guts to refer to you as a friend, but just something mysterious and hindering that he has to "figure out". The delicious food suddenly turns sour in your mouth, as sour as the pity he's sparing you by asking if you're alright.

-

"Charles, are we friends?"

"Of course we are, I wouldn't let a stranger in my car yea?"

He said lightheartedly, humming to the song on the radio. You can only let out a sigh, you don't know if he's dumb or he's leading you on anymore. Your desire for him is real, it's running thin by the second.

"Stop the car, Charlie."

"What?"

"We need to talk"

He pulled over carefully, you left the pista so fast it's like the leather was burning holes in your skin. The night breeze hit your already cold skin, Charles brought out a coat you know he kept in the back seat to swing over you. If only this was how it is always, to have him so close and so caring, to be his only one.

"So..."

"Charlie, are you bored of me? Did you realise I'm replaceable? If there's anyone better please just let me know and we don't have to pretend we know each other anymore. Please Charles I'm sick of being led around like your decoration only for you to treat me like less than a friend when you're away."

Silence, he stood in silence with a look you can't recognise after spending so much time tiptoeing around him. Your pleading caught him off guard, he probably didn't know you had a breaking point. Or at least he didn't expect it to catch up to him so soon. Charles pulled you into a hug, a futile attempt to assuage the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I promise we are friends. I'm sorry mon ange, that I made you feel that way. I'm uncertain about us, I don't know what I want from you. I just want to keep you around."

"Charles I'm not just something to keep around. I have my values, I'm a human too. I want you but if you don't want us then just...let us go"

"I don't want-"

"This isn't just about you Charles, it's about me too. I will not sit around to wait for you while you go fuck another girl on a different continent every race season. You either give me something or you let me live."

You tore away from his arms in the outburst. Charles looks lost, heartbroken, just the way you look when he did the same to you. You almost run right back to apologise, to cradle him in your love and swear to never hurt him again. But you can't stand being a pet of his anymore, not when you put your whole soul into this man but still not deserving of a title.

Silence, silence hung in the air so heavy and suffocating as he led you back into the car, and dropped you off at your place. A "bye" so small it got lost in the wind as he drove away. War is over you guessed, even though there was no answer but no answer is better than waiting for a potential answer from him. You pull out your phone, delete his number, delete your pictures, unfollow his private account and let the heartbreak wash over you.

Down the street, Charles felt the same as you do for the first time.

[16bruises]

Parasocial

word count: 1.5k

purple is other miguel

important information for writers who use google docs

Our eyes met through a screen long before we did.

“Even an obvious fabrication is some comfort when you have few”

-Margaret Atwood

The everyday misery makes it so my nights and days blend too easily for me to keep any form of a normal or healthy life. I don’t want one without them anyway.

Them.

That beautiful family.

All I’ve ever wanted.

I could’ve had them… but it wasn't meant for me. Not the version of me that I have the misfortune of being. The version I am is only allowed to long for something I can’t have and suffer. But ever since I found them… I’ve suffered less and longed more.

I imagined them with me. I could’ve been so good at having a family if I was only given time. I won’t ever admit it, it would be bad for the morale of the spider society– but I hate being a spider person. I hate that it’s taken so much. I hate that I can watch a version of me through a screen have what I long for. I hate it.

I have so much love for them. The other Miguel’s family. Sometimes I feel so sure that I love them more than that.. alternate version of me that has them. But other times I feel like any version of me would love them more than anything.

But that can’t be true– I’ve suffered for so long alone. I’m the Miguel that suffers and loves them more than any other Miguel could.

The first moment I saw this version of me, he had everything already. He was happily married to her, (y/n). The way she looked at that Miguel made me so sure that she’d love me. She would love me even though I’m not her Miguel. I could be, I’d happily be her’s.

She was pregnant with their baby the first time I saw her.

That Miguel wanted the baby to be a girl. I would’ve told her that I just want the baby to be healthy and for the delivery to go smoothly. I would’ve made sure she knew I could care less about the sex of our baby and that I would love our baby no matter what.

I will admit, I was hoping for a baby girl. But, If the baby had been a boy I wouldn’t have cared. The baby was perfect because it was hers and looked like it could’ve been mine.

That version of me was late getting to the hospital and almost missed the birth. I wouldn’t have been late. I wouldn’t be away from her that close to the baby’s due date.

I cried tears of pure joy when Gabriella was born. I loved her the moment I saw her. She was such a tiny baby, such a beautiful baby.

Since the moment she was born, the longing got worse. It was harder to focus on my duties as Spiderman and as head of the Spider Society. But, I didn’t care. I loved her and Gabriella too much to care.

—-

Everything in that Miguel’s life was so perfect. I found myself resenting myself for not being that version of me.

I hated him. I started watching him, trying to find out what it is about him that made it so he wasn’t destined to suffer while I was. Why did he get to have such a beautiful life and I didn’t?

And I found the reason.

That Miguel was destined to die. That Miguel was destined to die and leave that beautiful family behind.

That Miguel wasn’t destined to suffer because he was destined to bring suffering and longing to them.

I couldn’t let them suffer as I have. I couldn’t let it happen. I had to save her and Gabriella from the painful feeling of mourning.

I didn’t hesitate to step out of my universe and into theirs.

I looked down at that universe’s Miguel, it felt strange. The feeling must be what it’s like to be a Peter Parker, constantly seeing yourself but… not quite.

I dragged that Miguel deeper into the alleyway, away from sight. Then walked home.

She was more than I dreamed of. She kissed me the moment I walked through the door. She was real. She was everything.

The baby. My baby– Gabriella. She wasn’t a newborn anymore, 5 months old now. But, still so tiny. She giggled when I held her.

I knew they could love me. I hadn’t noticed before, how heavy the suffering and longing felt until then. The heavy feelings were suddenly gone.

I held her closer than the other me had. I hugged her more.

I held Gabriella longer and gently rocked her cradle longer after putting her to bed.

Because I loved them more.

—-

My destiny was to suffer. Leaving the universe that demanded such of my life wouldn’t change that. I should’ve known.

Maybe I was too lovestruck by her. She was mine now, my (y/n).

Maybe I was too proud that Gabriella had slept through a full night.

Maybe I was just not thinking because I’d been too excited to be with them to notice the weak rise and fall of this universe’s Miguel’s chest when I arrived.

I should’ve made sure he was dead. It would’ve been easy.

But no, I had been sloppy and too eager to go to them.

I realized he wasn’t dead when I had gone back to my home universe, telling (y/n) that I had to spend a late night at work. I had to check on the spider society and make sure my home universe wasn’t falling apart. Everything seemed fine, a few minor things had happened in my absence but nothing I couldn’t fix.

I went to check on them and saw him. He was alive. He was in a hospital. He wanted to go home, to see his fiance, his baby girl. And he would be doing just that.

I panicked. I rushed back to them.

I was so sure that the next time I was gone, he would come back.

(y/n) would be so confused. I can’t let him come back. He’d explain where he’d been but (y/n) wouldn’t understand because I had been there.

—-

When I was attacked it felt like the end. I thought it was over. I thought about (y/n), our baby, our life together. We wanted to do so much. We were going to get married soon.

Then it felt quiet. Then loud, very very loud.

I could hardly open my eyes enough to make out my surroundings.

The image of (y/n) with baby Gabi, the first time we brought Gabi home, flashed through my mind.

I forced my eyes open.

I strained my arms to lift myself off the concrete.

I strained my voice calling for help.

I pushed and strained until any sign of help appeared.

Once it did, I let myself stop straining.

–

The next thing I can remember is opening my eyes, no force necessary this time.

The fluorescents looked so bright, and so did the pale walls. The sterile smell and people dressed in scrubs confirmed my suspicion that I was safe. I was safe, I felt better, and I knew where I was.

The hospital staff wanted me to stay for another week after I woke up but I just wanted to go home. I need to make sure (y/n) and Gabi are alright. I need to go home.

After much debate, the hospital agreed to discharge me as long as I agreed to come back within the next two days for a checkup.

And with that– I was on my way home.

–

It’s not something you’re ever prepared for. I think maybe only identical twins who were separated at birth could understand… the confused terror.

Whatever this thing was… it was expecting me. It was waiting for me.

What had it done to (y/n)?

Or our baby?

Were they ok? Were they even alive? Had this ?thing done something to them?

It was standing in front of the door. Watching me. Neither of us spoke.

It looked just like me. I’ve heard of body snatchers before but I never thought they could be real.

This can’t be real. I was sure I was hallucinating, some negative side effects of the medication I’d been given at the hospital.

It was real though.

It slammed me against the floor when I reached for the doorknob.

It wanted me dead, and with how aggressive and violent it was I knew it would get what it wanted.

—-

I loved them more.

I would do anything to keep them.

Nothing would take me away.

NOTHING.

I killed him. I had to.

After I did it I took a shower. Cleaned the last bits of him off of me.

I hid him better this time.

He was dead, in another universe. Far far away from here.

That night I held Gabriella longer than I had before.

I kissed (y/n) longer, I made love to (y/n), held her until she fell asleep.

I loved them more than any Miguel could.

Part 2

Part 3

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Any Hc's for being in love with Rook Hunt?

Headcanon/s for being in love with Rook Hunt ➽─────────❥

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Rook Hunt x Gn Reader

A/n: Rook Hunt! The Epitome of a green flag man! Hehe yes, I do have some headcanons for being in love with him! Anon you got good taste, I love the guy <3. I hope you like this one! Although I'm not sure If I did Rook Hunt justice, however, I still hope that It's not OOC, the way he portrays beauty sometimes makes me wanna overanalyze him to the point that I may mischaracterize him sometimes, which is my pet peeve, so I'm sorry If it's a bit OOC, hopefully not.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards.

Warning: Bad French (I apologize, I only googled some of the french words here, If I was wrong on some, feel free to comment about it, I will fix it immediately, thank you!)

Masterlist

➽─────────❥

❥ You should be prepared to gain plenty of love letters from him whenever you two aren’t together, for example you’re busy with studying or working, expect a beautiful rose on your table with a letter attached, you won’t even notice anyone come in your bedroom, such a sly man he is. That letter would consist of him showering you with praise and telling you to not overwork yourself. 

❥ Now, you’d probably be wondering why he wasn’t with you in that room, he was! He watched you for a while you were hyper-focused on your task, he found your focus quite ethereal, such a beauty you are when you put your mind into something. He wanted to smother you with his hugs, but he’s not going to break your focus like that, so he ended up leaving the room (By leaving the room, he’s just watching you from outside the door)

❥ People often say that when you fall for Rook Hunt, be prepared to be suffocated by his love, while I can see why, I feel like his love wouldn’t be suffocating or way too much, I’d compare it to water, flowing to one direction and it’s on you, he’d guide you, cherish you and love you as gently as a river. He isn’t someone who doesn’t see love as a metaphor for flowers, if you take care of them properly, they’ll bloom, if you bombard them with nutrients, they die. He’d understand if you want him to chill for a bit, he’d tone down his affections if you hated it, but if you didn’t and you end up loving him with the same vigor, he’d fall for you further. 

❥ In a relationship, he’s as secure as he can be, he wouldn’t jump in a relationship if he wasn’t sure about you, he’s a hunter, someone who has keen senses, and when he first saw you, he saw the beauty of your soul, the longer he’s around you the more you showed him how exceptional you are, that’s where he became sure that you were for him.

 

❥ He doesn’t get jealous very easily, after all, you’re someone who attracts attention left and right, someone who shines brightly in his eyes, he’s happy that he isn’t the only one who notices your charm. Although, sometimes, when someone crosses a line and touches you in a way that bothers him, he’s fast to swoop in, smoothly getting you out of that situation, once you two are out of sight, he’d be placing your hand on his cheek while you look up to him, confused why he suddenly just dragged you away from all those people, you’d see it, his eyes conveying a hint of sadness while he kisses your hand. “Mi amour does this side of me dishearten you?” and for a moment it’s like he’s showing you a different side of himself, a vulnerable one.

❥ There are plenty of times he catches himself gazing on you often, and he indulges himself in such delicacies, you are his beloved after all, so if you catch him staring at you, expect to be given that signature smile he always has (although now you probably wonder why his smile never changed before you two became a thing)

❥ Even before you started dating, he already knew most of what you liked and disliked, and you can say he also knew what your type was, and he was pleasantly surprised when you mentioned him as your type during your lunchtime chats with your friends. He’s someone who cherishes beauty and sees it in others, he’s an expectator of beauty itself, yet here you are, describing him as if he’s a man of your dreams. One can say he had his heart fluttering due to it. 

❥ Hearing about your “confession”; he’d be the type to bring his attention often to you now as if his attention wasn’t fixated on you before, he shows it more boldly now, finally understanding why you were often blushing around him. He did have an idea, but he could never act upon speculation without proof! 

❥ If you were the first to confess to him, he’d have that gleeful smile on his face before lifting your chin and making you look up into his gaze, “ Ma beauté, I’ve been waiting for you to express your love to me, I accept it wholeheartedly,” He’d whisper that to you before pulling you closer, leaning closer to your lips, “May I kiss you?”, If you’d graciously let him kiss you, he’d die a happy man. 

❥ But, if he’s the one that confesses, you wouldn’t expect it to be as casual as it gets, you see Rook is the type of guy that just “feels”, if you get my gist, you two could be playing charades in the living room; or having a picnic outside of ramshackle, just the two of you, and when the sun sets and the gorgeous scenery presents itself, you looking absolutely divine with the soft glow of the sun hitting your face, you looking relaxed and safe with him. 

❥ His heart would start beating fast, with his hand automatically pushing away the strands of hair off your face as the wind gushes, if you looked at him while he fixes your hair, you’d see a rare blush reaching up to his ears. 

❥ “You look manifique, ma chère amie/mon cher ami” He slides his hand from your cheek to your hand, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb. “If I were to give my life to pursue you for eternity, would you accept?” 

❥ At first, you probably got confused about what he was implying, who confesses like that anyway, he’d let you think about it till you finally understood that as a hunter, he plans to “pursue” you. Is that a confession? 

❥ Once you finally understood what he meant, in which he had been keeping an eye on you, so he’d��know when you do understand it, he’d be popping out of nowhere, hand on your waist as he holds you like you were delicate. 

❥ “What’s your answer? Mon amour?”

Word Count: 1,050

[vintagemulti]

a psa for those writing for johnny “soap” mctavish

as much as a love the works you’re all writing, a lot of people really don’t know how to write a scottish character (and that’s ok !!!! we get like no rep so) so as a scottish writer, i figured i should help you guys out a little bit.

dialogue

johnny has a VERYYY strong accent as i’m sure anyone can work out

however this doesn’t mean he’s suddenly speaking a different language

yes, a lot of slang is used and for a basic definition of scottish slang and how they should be used; use this ! if you have no idea of slang i’d recommend reading through every word

although we like to use slang, i can promise you that if we’re with someone that wouldn’t understand a word of it / someone who’s first language isn’t english, we wouldn’t speak fully scot (for example if johnny was speaking to alejandro or rudy)

there’s absolutely nothing to suggest he can speak gaelic. yeah i know this is an obvious one but i have seen a few people slip gaelic into his dialogue and that’s super duper inaccurate

barely anyone in scotland speaks gaelic (unless you’re up very high north or maybe in the isles). it’s actually almost an extinct language because the english pretty much wiped it out when we got colonised.

something i love to see is when he mumbles little scottish things under his breath. accurate af.

we say shite more than shit. and never ever will a scottish person say ass. it’s arse all the way.

we don’t call people (especially if you’re sleeping with someone !!!!) lass. or lassie. we call kids that.

pet names are normally along the lines of love, hen (my personal fave), sweetheart, little lady, bonnie (sometimes)

also, shagging is sex. shag, shagged, shagger. yeah.

mum not mom. maw, more commonly.

all that being said he does use a loottttt of slang so honestly go ham i love seeing scots language get used because it’s not been used in fanfic like ever before

culture

seen a few people write soap going mad for st andrews day

yeah no we don’t to that lol i barely every remember that it’s actually st andrews day

also, we aren’t all completely versed on celtic mythology. i could barely tell you the first thing about it.

in scotland we’re all kind of touchy, like we’ll greet people with a hug and stand weirdly close to each other so if that’s something you’re writing about it’s important to note that our personal space is really small

not sure where people get this idea from but scotland isn’t all sheep and highlands and fairies and like little huts

yes we have that but we’re a really modern nation and wayyy to many people have a weird perception of scotland

my man is literally from like glasgow (his accent sounds glasgow but don’t quote me on that) he’s not a farmer or anything

we swear. a lot.

KILTS. not skirts, very common to wear in scotland to events like weddings, christenings, anything formal really.

cunt isn’t a horrible word i literally everyone a cunt, sometimes it’s used affectionately

misc.

if you’re gonna write about scottish politics i beg you research it. johnnys probably pro independence and an SNP voter. google it for context

we’re really loud. and we talk really fast. yes, other characters are gonna be confused af

irn bru !!!!!!!!! it’s a scottish drink and ive seen one person mention it and i just about cried i loved it

in scotland you can vote at 16 and join the army at 16 if that’s relevant to you

if you’re going to write about something you don’t know anything about, either do research or ask someone scottish (im more than happy to help!!)

please don’t take these as complaints or anything !! it’s just very very off putting to see people make massive misconceptions and conclusions about scotland! i love that we’re finally getting some hype. anyways ask about anything!! <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for setting a boundary on a Minecraft server that I didn’t want to interact with one of the admins after he quit my partner’s dnd campaign?

I (20, nonbinary) was on a lgbtq+ discord and had become friends with a trans guy (henceforth referred to as A) who was a minor. This was easy to forget as he made raunchy jokes, got drunk and high on call, and I have horrible memory issues (so I often opt to just remember people’s names and topics I should avoid around them via making little notes.)

We would very often end up in a vc together with others from the server, including our respective partners, chilling, playing games, sharing fun things we found. (His partner will henceforth be referred to as B, and mine as C) (I had known his partner before from another server and was happy to see them getting along then eventually getting together)

(C especially would always give advice like “if you’re drinking, make sure to eat/get some carbs, drinking on an empty stomach is bad!” Because they love researching medical effects to make their writing and worldbuilding feel more realistic)

There were a handful of incidents where I believe I was the asshole

I loved showing off games and musicals to people, and this has the unfortunate effect of sometimes unintentionally saying words that anger people.

Incident 1) I was playing a game and mindlessly saying location names- and I got a dm- I pause to glance at it- and I got a message saying “hey remember [redacted] is A’s deadname and he’s uncomfortable that you keep saying it”. I pause, make a mental note of “but. It. Wasn’t directed at him?” Then continue playing, dodging saying the name for the rest of my time showing the game.

Incident 2) I was showing off a musical I like- and there’s a cute scene where a character suggests a name for another character, saying that they don’t need it anymore, and it just so happened to be A’s deadname again.

Incident 3) I was playing Sea of Thieves solo- and struggling. I’d been hit by lightning, and now was being attacked by a shark. A and B were making fun of the fact I had slipped into an accent out of sheer panic so I (enraged and not thinking at all) said “I’ll name the damn shark after you, fillet and gut it!” (A really likes sharks. I also like sharks but apparently not as much as him)

(I apologized for this on call later, saying that I was emotional and mad, and if I’d been thinking I wouldn’t have said that. I also apologized for the previous incident about the deadname)

A and B had also joined C’s dnd campaign alongside another one of our mutual friends, D (who did not leave the campaign, but that’s not important right now). I have reason to believe C told the others they couldn’t be either of the two classes I said my character thought they were, but I don’t know. Things went great (or so I thought) we got some plot trails (one connected to the race of my character, one being D’s character’s family) and everything seemed fine- A was flirting with a lot of the enemies and NPCS (C found the character arts via google images and unfortunately ‘attractive’ seems to be a main character design commonality)

Then one day, I woke up to check the campaign discord because of a ping and noticed both A and B had left the server and there was no new messages- confused, I hopped into call with C- who explained that A had dropped a long list of accusations about Myself and C, essentially insulting us and accusing us of things like ‘sending NSFW things to kids’, ‘acting like the victim’, ‘naming a character A’s deadname’, ‘DM favouritism’, and a whole bunch of other things. I was- shocked.

(A also apparently messaged D and said something like “sorry for ending the campaign like that, if you want to use your character you can always write with me!” And got angry when D said they didn’t leave the campaign.)

(C is also a generally sex-repulsed Asexual. They were forcing themself to become more comfortable with it because of A’s raunchy jokes)

This was followed by some harassment from A and B.

A tried publicly calling out C on social media (which C had only used to make a single post sharing something they had made for someone’s art/design) for “sending nsfw things to minors” and on another platform for “being a fake ass bitch”, as well as both of them heckling a new haircut I’d been nervous but excited to try and get for years and just figured out how to ask for (responses such as “omg no ew why would you do that”), as well as A saying “no I don’t” a picture I shared of C and I going to see a musical together with the caption “you wish you were here!” (All were shared and reacted to publicly on the discord server)

(To be fair about the haircut- the stylist had cut part of it a little too short and it made my face look especially chubby)

This is where I start to feel less like the asshole

So I went on the discord for the Minecraft server and said “hey, I don’t feel comfortable interacting with A after the allegations they’ve been making”. A immediately got defensive and angry about me saying “allegations” and kicked me from the discord before I could defend myself (and C).

I explained the situation to the admin of the server we’d met on, who also owned the Minecraft server, and apologized to them that they had to moderate. Both A and I lost our mod privileges on the discord, and I also found out A had been given multiple “cease and desist”s for… saying/sharing vulgar/nearly nsfw things on the discord before. And they did it again. The reason they were never banned or kicked was that the admin had made it in hopes that A would make friends.

Now. To a part that still horrifies me.

A legitimately found out C’s mom’s number, and called her to insist that C sent NSFW things to minors. (C suspects that they got it from a time C called the police out of genuine concern for A who hadn’t responded to any messages in around a day)

C also told me that the most they had sent A was like. Attractive anime guys from the first page of google images because C really liked big anime man chests. A apparently sent C full on p*rn once.

The problem is- I feel like I was the asshole- even though most of the “incidents” were accidents because I try to not remember someone’s deadname because- it’s? Not their name anymore? And it didn’t help that I genuinely do not remember being told it was their deadname until after incident 1.

Was I the Asshole?

What are these acronyms?