#its the reason hes extra short. its how he got his name. so many other things. m an.

[makerscockandballs]

oh fuck i need to retract that statement about Maison Surana doing the ritual lmfaoo he's trans. for a moment i lived in a world where trans men can get people pregnant 👍

#its the reason hes extra short. its how he got his name. so many other things. m an. #with for a moment i mean.... weeks. like since i finished origins really. #so either morrigan is such a capable witch she can make it work #or alistair had to #i just mashed buttons randomly in origins. not an optimal playthrough #maison surana

[kaicubus]

Blah Blah Blah | Wayne M.

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : fluff(?), mentions of violence, mentions of blood, heavy cursing, spoilers for wayne the series on amazon prime, reggie’s holding a gun, gun is not used but everything else is, established relationship with wayne.

pairing ✩° : wayne mccullough x fem!reader

premise ✩° : not only did reggie did his own grave when he took wayne’s car, but he dug himself an extra 6ft when wayne found out it was him who took his girlfriend, all to win a fight he was never going to win anyways.

word count ✩° : 2k

authors note ✩° : yes blah blah blah is the actual name and not filler,, i was listening to an edit by typingfilms on tik tok and got inspired!! guys i gotta be real with you..idk how to write fight scenes. this was a challenge. but its a blurb so it’s short and not many descriptions!!

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"Would you look at that! There he is. And I thought the son of a bitch wouldn’t show up and save his little girlfriend.” Reggie gasps dramatically and throws his hands up in the air.

For hours, Wayne had been looking for you. For hours he’d gone without seeing your face, only fueled by the raw essence of hatred and hope to find you that allowed him to stand up right. Your boyfriend’s face was bruised, cut and sliced in multiple areas from things you didn’t even want to imagine, but he was there now, and he wanted nothing more than to save you from this hellscape and hold you in his arms.

The only thing stopping him? His bitch of a step-brother, Reggie.

Wayne had only found out about Reggie after he got into a heated argument, which was mostly one-sided, with him after seeing that the car his late father left for him was being driven by some random guy he’d never seen before with slicked back hair, an unkept beard, and tattoos running all over his body. The interaction wasn’t pleasant, but it was better than when Wayne was told that Reggie and him were in fact related since he didn’t have to talk to him or even look at him for long that time. Now, he was face to face with the guy who seemed to get everything he wanted, like a spoiled, whiny brat.

Never in your life did you think you’d get kidnapped, then again most people who do don’t either. You had only met Reggie once with Wayne when his mom was present to tell them both, and right away you could tell from the situation that Reggie was fortunate enough to be in and by the way his entire top row of teeth sparkled in gold, that he was one of the most vile creatures to walk the Earth.

By some string of luck, Wayne had somehow tracked you down after you were knocked out cold by a quick swing to the head by Reggie himself, who laughed over your unconscious body and dragged you into the same car Wayne had full ownership over. When you hear him for the first time in what you could only assume had been 13 hours, you nearly shrieked with happiness—but you couldn’t make much noise with a cloth gag stuffed inside your mouth anyways.

You were in no way a match to fight Reggie, but he had you tied up as precaution; wrists, ankles, and even a blind fold that you begged to be removed were all tightly bound together with whatever crunchy, white cloth he could find, and they hurt.

It only takes one glance for Wayne to see what Reggie had done, and as clear as it was in broad daylight, Wayne just couldn’t believe it. Wayne had been chained up, gagged, threatened with fire, stabbed, kicked, and crashed into by cars and other vehicles, but nothing compared to seeing you like this. Even if you weren’t hurt physically, Wayne could tell you’d been crying and possibly screaming out for him, and that was enough for him to reasonably lose his shit.

“You took my mother away from me. You took my dad’s car and claimed it as your own. And you took my girlfriend.” Wayne stares tiredly at his step-brother, “Why else would I be here?”

“And what the fuck is you gon’ do about it,” Reggie leans in close, too close, rolling his plump lip back into his mouth, only to spit it back out at Wayne with an intimidating, “Brother?” The exaggerated, wet ‘pop’ noise was all it took for Wayne to snap.

“Lookie here, Y/n!” Reggie gawks and smacks the side of your head, tearing the blindfold away from your red, puffy eyes, “Wayne’s here to save you! Isn’t that peachy?” pulling out a loaded gun from behind his back, “Now I won’t hafta shootcha! Lucky girl.” Reggie flashes a grin at Wayne and tilts his head to the side, scraping his pierced ears against his sunburnt shoulder, “What’dya say Wayney? Should I give her up?”

One look at Wayne’s eyes told you a million stories. From those hours you two were separated, you could tell he had lost all hope by the way they were deeply sunken into his face. Grey eyes became black with the shadows of his half lidded stare, and his eyebrows were now more prominently placed lower on his face than before. It pained you to see him like this, but even more when you realized Wayne had nothing to defend himself, and Reggie had a gun.

You let out a muffled cry, screaming his name and thrashing around the best you could to alert your boyfriend who already saw the weapon the second Reggie had pulled it out. Wayne doesn’t even look at you because he knows that if he looks too long, he’ll lose all the rage surging inside of him and rush to save you; so he keeps his eyes are locked onto the man holding you hostage.

“Yeah,” He says lifelessly, “I think you should let her go.”

Reggie scoffs, “That’s it? You’re not gonna beg for her life? I could, shoot her now, steal my goddamn car again, and live the fuckin’ high life, and you be miserable! No girlfriend, no daddy, no mommy, not even me! You don’t wanna stop me from doing allat?” He waves his gun around carelessly.

Wayne only shrugs, “I guess you could if you wanted to. But I don’t think you can.”

You stare, wide eyed at Wayne, knowing he has a specific way to get out of things like these, but still worrying that he might slip up. Judging by the way Reggie holds himself, sagging down when he talks and shooting himself up when he thinks he makes a smart point, he’s unhinged at its worst. Taunting him doesn’t seem like the right thing to do, especially with his finger stuffed into the space holding the trigger.

Instead of losing it like you fear he would, Reggie cocks his head to the side and licks his lips, “And why wouldn’t I? I’m the one holdin’ the frickin gun, aren’t I, bozo?” He lets out a hoarse laugh, “What’re you, stupid? Why wouldn’t I be able to pop Y/n’s fuckin’ skull open right now? Huh?”

“Because your limbs are all broken, and you’re missing your eye.”

Without wasting a second, Wayne lunges forward and crashes his fist into the side of Reggie’s face. You don’t even notice him at first, seeing as Wayne’s pace quickly picks up speed to the point where he’s charging towards him. It isn’t until you see red streaks of crimson blood start to seep out of Reggie’s face as he staggers back from the initial punch do your eyes catch a small, silver glisten intertwined between Wayne’s knuckles.

Despite having his face cut, Reggie only laughs, “Ooh, I like that! Hit me harder!” which was weird coming from his half brother, but you decide not to cringe at the...flirtatious(?) undertones. Wayne’s brow scrunches together as he delivers another sharp blow to Reggie’s chin, his makeshift weapon crashing right into the soft flesh between his scruffy jaw and unprotected neck, piercing right through. The force alone is enough to drive Reggie to the ground, knocking his opponent onto his back right onto a few other objects that make his fall way worse than it would be landing on the cold, hard tile itself.

“Fuck!” Reggie laughs, “You’re gonna regret doing that you little bitch!”

Unfortunately, even with Wayne’s skill, he’s knocked to the ground with a firm kick to his legs, knocking his balance over and causing Wayne to tumble down just enough for Reggie to crawl on top of him and lock in a closed-fist punch right into his nose bridge. You wrestle your restraints more than ever after hearing the two grunt, and Wayne’s nose break followed by booming laughter from Reggie.

Wayne’s blood paints all over the floor next to him, trickling down his pale cheeks and neck, as well as Reggie’s hands before his moment of power is flipped and Wayne is able to gain back his footing.

All you could do was watch, listening as the cries Reggie screamed out became more and more unhinged, surely to the point where his throat was excoriated. You watch how his body curls in agonizing, writhing pain as Wayne whacks him relentlessly with anything he can get his hands on. There was nothing that Wayne couldn’t do with nothing. As confusing as that realization was, Wayne knew exactly what he was doing and how to finish it quickly.

Making use of his foot, Wayne weaves past Reggie’s attempt to kick him down and hastily stomps his heel right into his forearm, finding the weakest point of the limb and bruising it all until he hears a muffled crack spit from it. The sound makes you nearly vomit then and there, but your eyes remain open and watchful in case Reggie was the one to step up and do the exact same thing to your boyfriend.

Luckily, he doesn’t, and Wayne finishes off exactly what he said he would. He uses the strength of a metal chair and slams it down onto Reggie continuously, targeting his legs next, which were somehow easier to break than his arms. Maybe it was because of all the work Reggie did focusing on his arms rather than his legs during his days in the gym.

As Wayne is about to use a metal scrap piece to finally take out his step-brother’s eye, you wave around, shaking your head. You had already seen and heard so much that the thought of Wayne gouging someone’s eye out right in front of you made your already weak stomach want to give out entirely. Wayne was covered in blood, head to toe, that thankfully wasn’t his as the majority of his own blood remained stuck to his face.

Your sudden outburst catches Wayne’s attention instantly and he comes rushing to your aid, leaving Reggie groaning incoherently on the ground, with all of his limbs broken, but two fully functioning eyes. He turns his head to the side and exhales deeply, seeing Wayne run up to you before his eyes cross and he passes out.

“Y/n, you uh, you ok?” Wayne makes his way over to you and kneels down, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier...here, let me get those.” He starts removing the binds around your wrists and ankles, peeling the soaked fabric from your mouth and tossing them all to the side. In an instant, you fly towards Wayne and wrap your arms around his shoulders, wanting nothing more than to feel the warm touch of your boyfriend. Wayne does the same, hugging you as if you were oxygen, and he had been struggling to breathe ever since he lost you. But losing you was far from the question. Wayne knew he’d find you again, it was only a matter of time before he did, whether that required spilling blood or not.

You didn’t care, as long as Wayne was in your arms and you were in his. Your eyes close on their own from exhaustion, sniffling back the tears that eventually start bubbling at your lashes, breaking like shards of glass. Wayne struggles to hold you up but lets you crumble against him, using his chin to tuck your head closer into his chest.

“Wayne...” Your body shakes and unwanted tears start to stab your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was going to do this and bring you so much trouble! He just came at me and I didn’t even know! I was so scared.” 

“I know, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again, I’m so sorry.” His voice is thick with worry, and even he’s holding back tears too, “I won’t ever let something like that happen again, that’s a promise.” 

────────────────────────────────────────────

“You...You didn’t kill him...did you?” You cling onto Wayne’s arm and glance over at a still bodied Reggie.

“He’s fine. He’s just resting. C’mon, let’s get outta this shithole.”

#kaicubus #wayne #wayne mccullough #wayne x reader #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mccullough imagine #wayne mccullough x y/n #wayne blurb #blurb #wayne series #mark mckenna #wayne show #mark mckenna x reader

[parkvcrs]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love

SUMMARY: s/n y/n is a popular idol in japan, but there is just one important thing worth mentioning… she is still in high school! but she doesn’t go to any school— she is a student at u.a. high where she has captured the special attention of the arrogant and short-tempered bakugou.

PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x idol!fem!reader.

WARNING(S): nothing worth mentioning other than bakugou being a tsundere.

NOTES: this imagine was inspired by the lyrics of ‘i won’t say i’m in love’ from the animated hercules movie.

Bakugou didn’t ask to be seated behind the most popular girl in school. He found it incredibly distracting to his learning. He already had to deal with so many extras anyway, why did the school have to include one more? Oh, right… U.A. High School made an exception for S/n Y/n because she just so happened to be one of Japan’s most popular idols.

How stupid is that?

He got into Class 1-A fair and square by working his ass off during the entrance exam, but S/n was just tossed into the same course without a second thought. If you were to ask him, Bakugou thinks Principal Nezu should’ve just lumped her with the General Department: Class 1-C, so he wouldn’t have to bare staring at the back of her head.

‘Was that brat allowed in this class because of her status or is her Quirk really that valuable?’ Bakugou thought to himself. It was a question that plagued his mind as soon as he received word that she was joining Class 1-A. How disgraceful.

But… he did have to admit… S/n is a looker. She’s beautiful. So beautiful in fact that perverted Mineta Minoru didn’t care that he was practically drooling for the idol a few seats back.

The mere mutters coming from that purple-balled freak caused a scowl to make its way onto Bakugou’s features. It seemed like all the boys wanted her and all the girls wanted to be her. But he will not fall for her siren’s spell. Quite literally. That’s her Quirk and the main reason S/n Y/n is such a popular household name, she has a voice that is irresistible to men.

So, if he just so happens to overhear someone’s conversation about S/n or the faint sound of her singing, Bakugou wastes no time putting in his earbuds and blasting his heavy alternative rock music at one hundred percent in hopes to drain her out.

He remains steadfast in the belief that he is one of the few men in Japan who didn’t have feelings for the idol.

So… why on earth does he get upset whenever he sees or hears another person flirting with her? ‘There is no way that I’m jealous of that fishy brat.’ He concluded as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

Bakugou was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that half of the class has disappeared to go to lunch until Kirishima tapped on his shoulder, saying, “Hey, you good, Bakugou? The bell rang…”

“Piss off, shitty hair,” Bakugou groaned and then smacked his friend’s hand away. “I’m fine.” He added.

The cafeteria, as always, is filled with students, their voices echoing through the lively atmosphere. Today, Bakugou decided to bring his own lunch, a steaming bowl of mapu tofu, its fiery aroma wafting in the air around him while Kirishima departed from his blond friend temporarily to get in line to order something.

Bakugou scans the room for an empty seat, but something in the distance catches his attention — a familiar, melodious laugh that sets him on edge. He follows the sound, and his gaze locks onto Y/n surrounded by an adoring group of boys.

From what Katsuki could see some of the boys offer to pay for her lunch, while others attempt to vie for her attention, hoping to sit with her. Several even present their homemade bentos, eagerly hoping she'll accept their gesture.

The sight twists something inside Bakugou — jealousy. He clutches his spoon tightly, his appetite waning. He doesn't understand why this bothers him so much; it's not like he has feelings for her or anything... right?

Just as he's about to sit down and try to eat his mapu tofu after what he has to bare witness to, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, and Sero Hanta approach him. "Hey, Bakugou! What are you having for lunch?" The notable pink girl asked with a curious smile.

Katsuki's jaw tightens, and he glances back at Y/n, her radiant aura drawing everyone's attention. "Nothing," he mutters, a tinge of irritation in his voice. "Just lost my appetite."

Mina notices the distant look in his eyes and follows his gaze, connecting the dots. "Oh, I see," she says playfully, nudging his arm. "You're jealous, aren't you?" She wiggles her eyebrows while the boys beside her simply watch everything unfold for themselves with widened eyes. Did Mina have some sort of death wish or something? Because she’ll surely wind up died if she keeps poking fun at Bakugou like that.

At this, Katsuki couldn’t control the reddening on his face and he quickly denies it. "As if! Why would I be jealous of that?" he retorts, trying to brush off his feelings, as he uses his spoon to point at the crowd of boys surrounding his enchanting classmate.

Mina smirks knowingly. "Sure, sure, Bakugou. Whatever you say."

Ignoring her teasing, Katsuki forces himself to take a bite of the mapu tofu, but the taste falls flat. His mind remains fixated on Y/n, and he finds himself glancing in her direction more than he'd like to admit.

Meanwhile, Y/n enjoys her lunch surrounded by her admirers, her laughter filling the air like a captivating melody. Katsuki's conflicted feelings continue to gnaw at him, leaving him to wonder what it is about her that has such an effect on him.

And as the lunch period goes on, Katsuki struggles to concentrate on his meal or anything else for that matter. He's torn between trying to understand these emotions and trying to ignore them altogether.

That night, Bakugou couldn’t sleep.

No matter what he did, sleep eludes him as his thoughts stubbornly cling to one person… Y/n. It didn’t take long for frustration to bubble inside him as he mutters curses under his breath. "Damn it, why can't I just sleep? This is ridiculous..." He clenches his fists, trying to clear his mind of any thoughts that involve the idol.

After what feels like an eternity of futile attempts to sleep, Katsuki ultimately decides to give up.

"Fine, screw it. Maybe working on my lunch for tomorrow will get my mind off this shit." He quietly slips out of bed, mindful not to disturb his roommates, and steps into the hallway.

As he tiptoes past the dorm rooms of his male classmates, he can't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment. But that feeling soon dissipates and is instead replaced with annoyance.

"It's not like I'm sneaking out or anything. I'm just going to the damn kitchen," he grumbles to himself.

When Katsuki reaches the ground floor, he pauses for a moment. He can see the soft light spilling from the kitchen, and there she is. Y/n, clad in her pajamas, searching for a late-night snack.

His heart skips a beat as he watches her, but he quickly scolds himself for the involuntary reaction. ‘Get a grip, man. It's not like you care about her or anything. Just focus on your lunch.’ He reminds himself, trying to remind himself of his initial purpose. However, as he's about to turn away and head to the kitchen, Y/n senses his presence and turns her head slightly, locking eyes with him.

Her surprise is evident, and she closes the fridge, standing there awkwardly before speaking, "Sorry… I didn't think anyone else would be up. Please don't tell Aizawa…” she says in a meek voice, flustered. She tried her best to put on her best smile, hoping that he wouldn’t snitch on her to their teacher. Even if it may be uncharacteristic of him.

Katsuki blinks, momentarily taken aback by her sudden appearance. He crosses his arms, trying to appear nonchalant, but he can feel his heart racing. Thank God that it’s dark or else he’s almost positive his face is the same shade as a damn strawberry by now. "Tch, why would I tell him? I don't care what you do.” He replies, trying to hide any trace of his inner turmoil.

At this, an actual smile makes its way onto her features, appreciating his understanding. "Thank you, Bakugou. I just couldn't sleep, and I was hungry. So… you’re the only one awake, huh?" Seemed like she was trying to make small talk.

Katsuki nods, not trusting his voice to respond properly. "Yeah, seems like it. Whatever, just do whatever you want. It's none of my business.” He mutters, feeling a mix of annoyance and something he refuses to acknowledge.

Y/n's smile widens, and she takes a step closer. "Well, if you're up, why don't we have a late-night snack together?" she suggests, surprisingly at ease despite the unexpected encounter.

Katsuki's eyes widen a fraction, but he quickly recomposes himself. "Hah! Like I need company!” He retorts, but the harshness in his tone isn't as convincing as he hoped. “Besides,” he started once again and then slowly began to approach the oven. “I’m not here to snack. I need to make my lunch for tomorrow.”

To his surprise, Y/n's eyes light up. "You can cook? I had no idea!”

“Well… surprise.” Bakugou pretended like he couldn’t care less about their chat but in actuality, he was desperately hanging onto every word. Cherishing it.

“Say…” Y/n took a few steps closer toward the blond which didn’t go unnoticed. He sucked in a deep breath and tensed at the closeness. “Do you think you can make me something? Please?” She asks eagerly, frowning. And just for a moment, Bakugou’s facade escapes from him and his gaze softens at her enthusiasm. But he quickly regains his composure and lets out a small growl.

"Why can't you just eat one of those bento boxes your fans make you?" He shoots back.

Y/n pouts before replying, "I don't feel comfortable taking food from my fans. The media can be so extra, and I don't want to deal with rumors or misunderstandings." She shivered at the many disgusting titles of what she could be painted as. Selfish, for starters, why would an idol as famous as her take food from those of a lesser income? Or worse: one of those students would claim to be dating her, even if she did do something as simple as accept a meal from them.

Katsuki stays quiet after hearing this. He never considered things like that.

Meanwhile, Y/n hops up to sit on the counter, watching the blond closely. "You either make me food for tomorrow, or you take me out on a date," she says playfully. His train of thought shatters when Y/n said that. Bakugou’s eyes widen at the proposition, caught off guard by her boldness. He opens his mouth to respond, but she continues, imitating his gravelly voice, "'Why don't you go out with one of your fans?'" She pretended to be all grumpy like Bakugou to really sell her performance. But alas, there was a reason why she pursued singing instead of acting.

Katsuki huffs, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I didn't say that!" He said, defiantly.

Y/n grins mischievously. "You were thinking it!” She teases.

After a moment of bashful silence, he finally relents. "Fine, I'll make you something. But don't expect me to cater to your every whim!” He crosses his arms over his chest. “And, uh… you can eat at my table if you’re not too busy with, well, your life. But it’s not for me. It’s for raccoon eyes since, y’know, I think she would be happy if there was another girl in the group.” He cleared his throat and used Ashido as a proper alibi to cover up his own wishes. He would be elated if S/n Y/n could have lunch with him.

Y/n squeals with happiness, hopping off the counter to hug Bakugou tightly, much to his surprise. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She happily chanted, jumping up and down all the while she held onto her classmate.

He blushes slightly but tries to play it cool. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now go back to bed. I'll have something ready for you tomorrow."

“You’re the best, Bakugou,” Y/n whispered, stepping away from the blond. She slowly begins to make her way to the stairs when she stopped, peering over her shoulder to give Katsuki a small wave. “Goodnight.”

“Tsk, whatever.”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou fanfiction #bakugou imagine #anime #manga #katsuki bakugou imagine #idol reader #ua high school #all might #Spotify #i won’t say i’m in love

[bonesofvaldis]

HORRORTALE

The Universe

The famine is actually something that has happened before, way in the past when monsters were first trapped in the Underground. A lot of the knowledge of how it was overcome was lost with Asgore and Toriel however, and a lot of the older monsters were either too young to remember or were the first to fall down when it resurfaced again.

The famine is actually caused by an overabundance of magic. When the monsters were first sent into the underground they brought all of their magic with them, it soaked into the ground, rocks and water. The new density of magic caused any crops to become 'overripe'. The Core failing did the same thing, sending a new intense wave of magic through the Underground. If they had gotten the Core up and running the way it used to, it would regulate magic once more.

The only reasons Reuben's magic was able to restart the Core briefly was because it has the same magical signature as Gaster, it has nothing to do with power level or anything like that. When Gaster fell into the Core his magic became interwoven in its mechanisms, a significant boost of a similar magic (either from Reuben or Dagwood) would have been enough to restart it.

In my headcanon, Toriel was also defeated by Frisk. This is because I believe this 'run' was someone's first and only, someone who gave up trying to talk it out, someone who didn't bother to go back and get the 'best possible ending'.

Not that many humans have actually fallen down during the second great famine, at least not enough to affect anyone who has eaten them. Most of the changes that have happened to monsters are because of the extra magic, it changed them to help them survive tougher conditions. For example, making them taller/bigger, sharper teeth, improved vision etc. In some cases, this has affected their mental state as well.

Both Reuben and Dagwood's teeth and size are a result of the extra magic that the Underground got flooded with. Most monsters have been affected physically in some way by it. Their bodies changed to be able to handle that amount of magic. There was some emotional struggle since monster souls are so in tune with magic, so it was harder for them to keep their emotions and magic in check. But over time it has become easier as they adjust to their new reality.

They both know sign language, as Reuben sometimes finds it hard to speak verbally.

Horrortale Sans

Nickname: Reuben

Height: 6'4

Magic: Pinkish Red

Style: He likes dressing in cosy winter gear. Big jackets, jumpers, big grippy boots, etc. He almost always wears his matching yellow gloves and scarf, although sometimes he'll swap it out for something else Dagwood has made for him.

Other facts and info:

Reuben can cook, but he's not as good as his brother.

He loves spicy food.

Reuben has four pet chickens that he loves very much. Their names are Spoon, Knife, Fork and Ms Ice-cream Apple Pie.

Reuben likes to take care of the groceries and any other short errands around town. He'll often take one of his chickens (usually Spoon) with him if he has the opportunity.

Reuben loves to savour his kisses, much preferring soft lingering kisses and being closer to you. He likes if you take the lead as he's perfectly happy to get lost in it.

He 'doesn't dance'.

Reuben would like to work with animals, perhaps in some sort of petting farm or animal daycare.

His favourite colour is yellow.

Horrortale Papyrus

Nickname: Dagwood

Height: 7'5

Magic: Pale Green

Style: He likes light coloured clothing and he likes to look smart. He often wears button-ups, dress shoes and long coats. He's never seen without a pair of gloves, as his bones are heavily scarred and he prefers not to look at them.

Other facts and info:

Dagwood is a very skilled cook. He made it a priority to properly learn once they made it to the surface, taking advantage of the wider variety of foods available compared to underground.

He cooks mostly savoury things but he loves sweets. He's still not the best at making them though since he likes to make sure everyone eats healthy first.

Likes spicy food.

Dagwood is very outspoken, partially stemming from his brother's selective mutism. He's not afraid to speak up for others who need it.

He's very protective of those weaker than him, and keeps up a consistent workout routine to make sure he's always in fighting shape (the boost of magic from the core exploding in their au makes this very easy for him).

He likes to knit in his spare time too, although it's not something that he openly shares. The scarf and gloves that Reuben wears are a past birthday gift from him.

He was the main one that monsters in Snowdin went to if they needed help and that need to take responsibility never went away. He would melt if someone went out of their way to take care of him.

Because of the shape of his teeth, Dagwood's kisses are usually very gentle and precise. He'll usually take the lead and hold your face to direct you. Both because he likes the act of control and because he doesn't want you to accidentally get poked.

He really loves kids. If his partner also wanted kids he'd probably want at least two so that they'd always have a friend/someone to rely on. He'd also be open to adopting/fostering older kids who need a home.

About his relationship with Undyne. There were a lot of tense feelings at the start of the famine, a lot of magic going haywire, so their relationship was very rough for a while after his brother got hurt*. It's been a few years now and they've worked on and rebuilt their relationship as they've worked together to help the remaining monsters.

*It happened during an argument where her magic got out of control. She meant to summon one spear as a show of power but accidentally ended up summoning multiple.

He loves any kind of dancing with a partner.

Dagwood would love to be a teacher of some sort. Probably somewhere around the preteen level.

His favourite colours are pastels, but specifically blue.

#horrortale #horrortale papyrus #horrortale sans #utmv #undertale au #reuben #dagwood #my art #slight update to their designssss #i have a lot more info on dagwood here but that's because i haven't really written a lot of reuben's down

[spaceagebachelorstan]

i am very bored rn, so

ride the cyclone youtube au

they all have semi-popular yt channels in this au. i dont know what counts as popular so take that as anywhere from 1-20k each. whatever you see it as will work

mischa

had to start with the king of kaching himself. Obviously he posts frequently to badegg, most of his time on his yt chamnels goes to his music, but he'd start badegg_games as a little side thing and react to horror games he really likes, which gets peoples attention. he puts links to the original badegg in his descriptions which leads to more people finding his music. how much more? you decide. he also collabs pretty frequently with ricky, and brings other choir members on sometimes. his backgroud is just his room, maybe with some extra lighting. he edits his own videos and they are exactly how you'd expect them to be.

ricky

he absolutely has a gaming channel. he might stream as well. he's played every single fnaf fangame, including all the dating sims. hes also played onlycans. that one got age-restricted. any niche game he finds he makes a video on it. he uses text to speech in his videos, most of the time in post production so he doesn't have to type as he plays, and adds big subtitles. he also has a complete timeline of zolarian history. mischa and him collab pretty frequently, often playing multiplayer horror games together. he spends a lot of time on his video borders, and his channel logo is very fun and colourful. his cats show up very frequently in his videos, and when its something he doesn't think will jumpscare him, they're often sat on his lap as he plays. rpgs and sci-fi are some of the main types of games he plays, but theres a big variety. his channel name is linked to cats, zolar, or both.

ocean

she is freesciencelessons, but for every single subject. she is the only reason anyone is passing anything. she started it as either some extra credit project or as a way to revise, but people started following her and she actually quite liked making the videos, so she kept going. she doesn't bring other people onto her channel very often. her videos range from ten minutes to half an hour, depending on the subject, and shes very thorough. if its on any type of standardized test, ocean has made a video on it. she makes props for her videos and asks penny or ricky to animate things for her sometimes. her channel name is something simple like rosenbergrevision or something.

constance

did anyone watch quake n bakes? because that is what she'd do. shed post themed tutorials on how to bake different things. if it was a choir member's birthday, shed make them a themed treat and give it to them in the recording (if they were ok w it). her most popular tutorial/recipe were these 3D minecraft mob marshmallows she made for ricky, but her personal favourite are these little rose-shaped meringue cookies. sometimes she posts sewing videos as well, or little arts and crafts videos. she also promotes the cafe or makes cafe vlogs, but not often. her set up is pretty aesthetic and neat, but nothing extremely fancy. her intro is. short but sweet and she. has a little logo. her channel name is smthn like blackwoodbakes or connie'skitchen.

noel

he started making videos about poetry and film history and french cinema just to talk about them really. it was a passion project, he wasn't really too bothered about how many people saw it. he put work into it because he liked it, and he's haply with the followers he has. his videos are really long, and he goes super in depth. and then, he loses a bet to someone in the choir, and makes one of those "i watched _____ so you didn't have to" videos about some rlly bad movie that everybody takes the piss out of (think after or something). im picturing him with like a wine glass in hand making quips about whatever scene is on. it gets so many more views than his other videos. he's absolutely livid. but he makes more bcs people genuinely seemed to like the video. his dramatics and insults were quite interesting to watch, and soon its a pretty regular thing (if regular means once every four months). he still mostly makes his videos on things he likes, though. also, he managed to rope ocean into watching some horrible basic film with him and people like their dynamic, oddly enough. on halloween he reacts to horror movies with mischa. his channel name is something serious and probably ties into france somehow.

penny

shes a faceless youtuber and she has a pretty wide variety of videos. she used to be a stan acct for johnny moon before legoland, and she had to post a video on why what she did was wrong as community service. that one got a lot of views. she has a lot of art tips and speedpaints, as well as a lot of vlogs and a draw my life. she has a lot of videos about different types of music as well. her username has something to do with jane doe, she thought abt it because shes faceless and doesnt show her identity online and thought it was a fun idea. her set up is pretty basic, but its nice, and ezra's voice features in a lot of videos. the other choir members don't normally appear on her channel, but she, ricky and constance did an art challenge once.

#noel gruber #mischa rtc #ocean rtc #constance blackwood #ricky potts #penny lamb #noel rtc #ocean oconnell rosenberg #mischa bachinski #ricky rtc #ride the cyclone

[wrongcaitlyn]

this is completely self-indulgent, but i was thinking about apollos career before him disappearing and stuff and now i cant stop imagining apollo in a similar situation to Jeremy Jordan with the greatest showman. i know you are not that into musicals so long story short, jeremy jordan (who is like a big deal on musical theater) was supposed to play phillip on the greatest showman but ended up being replaced by zac efron even though he (jeremy) kind of saved the entire movie by singing all the songs during the demo (except "from now on"). i can 100% see apollo taking part of a demo for a musical movie and being promised a part to later on be replaced by someone else. jeremy actually told his side of the story (and sang snippets from the songs) and how he was super excited to play the part and be part of the project (ill link the video in case you want to check it out) and it was actually his way of telling this story what sold me on it being something apollo would do. like apollo is such a theater kid in my mind that him doing a whole stand up thing talking and singing about how he did not get a role for a movie is just soooo in character.

anyway, here's the video im talking about, its just such an insane story that i still cant believe it actually happened https://youtu.be/08AGzOmCk-s?si=XfX3xIpFmkqQePrI

wanted to wait until i watched the video to respond to this so sorry that it took so long!! but WOW. oh my god. that's so... i want to say rude, but also frustrating, and heartbreaking to a certain extent?? like to have done all of that just to know that you were never actually gonna get the part and it was going to go to someone that just had a bigger name - i loved the greatest showman when it came out (and ngl my family was a bit obsessed with it, i can't even count how much we rewatched it) and ngl, was a huge hsm stan as a kid (also cannot count how many times i rewatched those movies) so seeing zac efron be in the greatest showman was part of the incentive that got me to watch it for the first time - but it's still just such an asshole move??

as for your question, i feel like that ABSOLUTELY would happen. even though apollo is technically like the "big name" in this, and would be offered roles without even an audition, i do think that his father may occasionally just have gotten him to sing demos and have to step in everywhere, seeing as his father was a director and producer and occasionally just needed an extra person to sing/act - but then the role wouldn't actually be given to apollo because his father wouldn't want that role for him or approve of it, or any other reason.

apollo probably didn't care much of the time (except his sleep deprivation definitely did, because also the flying across new york while being horribly sick and still having to sing?? definitely smth that has happened to apollo) but i bet there was at least a movie or a show or something that he was really disappointed about not being a part of :/

thank you for the ask!!

#wrongcaitlyn #talk ur talk asks

[dastan-allyrion]

Context: Months into the slow crawl of clearing out the Red Mountains, the forces of House Wyl, Lord Commander Manwoody, Lord Allyrion and others have finally managed to get the Vulture King known as Ryon Blackmont cornered in the ruined keep known as Vulture's Roost and sieging it. A skirmish has led to one of them being injured, again.

@joymanwoody

JOY: Joy sat next to the makeshift exam table, looking over ravens to send to Sunspear, letting one of the healers pester over her bandages. She was just happy the wound on her neck was healed, and that her arm will still have full use. Though she could hear in her mind already how upset Ophelia would be with the both of them for how many injuries they'd taken on the field. How many men they’d lost. “We’re getting you new armor when we get back to Sunspear, Lord Allyrion. This getting hurt nonsense has got to stop. You’re to be a father”. Her tone was teasing but she was set on it. They could only pull each other from the field so many times.

DASTAN: Dastan had seen the carnage of battle before and yet the experience never made anything about the battlefield feel easier. He became a different man when he fought. A crimson, flaming feeling drove every move with the simple ruthlessness required to defend and survive. He would surely be a dead man by now if he didn’t embrace that part of himself when he fought the insidious enemies infesting their lands. “Haan,” he groaned, Yes. A healer had removed most of his bandaging and applied ointments to clean the wounds that crisscrossed his torso in thin, red lines. That coordinated attack had nearly left him bleeding out on the Dornish dunes had it not been for Joy getting him out of it. He lived, fortunately; his skin turned a mosaic of pain. Such had been their unspoken agreement as they bled side by side against the vulture’s outlaws. You get knocked down, I pull you back up. “We both need better protection, commander,” the lord said, tired eyes glancing at his friend. “That hit too close for comfort,” he mentioned, eyeing her neck.

JOY: Joy hissed at the sight of the scars crisscrossing her friend’s skin, her own scars -new and old- aching at the sight in sympathy. Wounds like that were not unfamiliar to the Lord Commander, her body a mosaic of the dangers her life had been in over and over and over. All ones she survived, and would continue to survive. The fresh scar Dastan mentioned cut the neck in a line that was short but dangerous, without Dastan getting her to a healer, she surely would have died. Just another day at war. “I have better protection, but a metal suit will not be very helpful right now. Maybe if we go fight the Reachmen, I'll wear it.” If the siege ends up fruitful and effective. They’d cut off every exit, and surely the ruins of the keep didn’t have much in extra supplies. But storming an unknown keep, no matter how ruined, could be disastrous no matter the potential success. She’s hardly thought of what's happening on the other side of the mountains. Of who was there. “Hopefully we can wrap this up quickly. Kingsgrave will need me when this is over.” They’d gone through her lands to get where they were now. Villages burned, the orchards that were its lifeblood were raided and destroyed. Dorne was always ready for a drought, but this was worse.

DASTAN: Their bodies had been cut open and sewn back together again, the cycle of battle. The two of them had been immersed in this internal conflict for some time now. How hopeless it felt at times, and yet, the Lord of Godsgrace picked up his sword and shield each time and fought side by side with his men, side by side with Joy. All of them had plenty of reasons to fight. All of them had much to defend, which made the hardship of war gain some sense of purpose. Dastan scoffed at the mention of the Reachmen. A year ago, he thought of them as kin in some way due to his marriage to Sofina. His darling Sofina. Her name would be thought of with devotion always, but only her; the people from her homeland had shown they were roses with treacherous thorns. “Let us not invoke more fighting, my friend”. If good fortune was on their side, Lord Yronwood would be handling the issues of the border with the Reach. “Let us pray that is the case,” he sighed, a small, rueful smile gracing his lips for a moment. Kingsgrave needed Joy as much as Godsgrace needed him. He’d left his mother to rule in his stead, with a family divided because of him. He’d left a lover he dreamed of every night and missed every morning, a babe growing in her belly. He’d left a sister who could barely stand to look or talk to him. Dastan had passively allowed for the distance but coming close to death taking him brought his family, both by blood and those he’d chosen, to his mind. I need to mend things, was the thought that circled inside his head as he bled out; a thought filled with guilt and regret, a thought filled with the drive to keep living. “We’ll be home soon”.

#joy: 04

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

[pythors-pandemic]

the big list of ninjago quotes

on my most recent rewatch, I wrote down any and all lines I enjoyed and for no reason other than @ninja-go-to-therapy was interested in seeing the list, I’m posting them. side note: a lot of these I wrote down simply because of the voice acting, not necessarily the words themselves. with that, here are 279 ninjago quotes

Season 1

“we’re saving a girl?! is she hot?”

“let’s chop sucky this lemonade stand”

“if i see one girl in here, i’m gonna go ballistic”

“uh.. is that wrecking ball staring at me?”

“this is not the time to be cryptic”

“how am i supposed to strike fear in this?! it’s pink!”

“it’s a magic floating rope”

“great observation, mr roboto”

“zane, like a machine. don’t change a thing”

“perhaps if you try the phrase ‘fire DORK’ maybe it might work”

“oh great. just what i like: fighting armed deadly snakes in a highly combustible environment about to BLOW UP!”

“haha, this is heavy and all, but what ever happened to the FANGBLADE?!”

“i mean at least give me a decent mustache” 

“get ready to get kai’ed!”

“woah grease ball! how about warn us before doing that!”

“ninja recover!”

“what?! you try fighting up here!”

“all that action, it makes you so thirsty”

“we’re so HOOPED!”

Season 2

“i can make a little extra if i do the human piñata” 

“it’s a bad boy thing”

“oh that is just so evil”

“why do i always get tied up?”

“this is bad! this is so bad on SO MANY LEVELS!!”

“it makes me feel young, deal with it”

“hey McNasty, i thought ninja were on your menu”

“this does not compute” *shorts out*

“ I believe a big ut oh is in order”

“and nya will never fall head over heels for jay!”

“NO MATTER WHAT YOU NEED TO CONVINCE HIM TO GO WITH YOU!”

“easy big guy! maybe this is a sign you need to lose a few pounds!”

“HEY! OPEN THE WINDOW! LET ME IN”

“what’s my power?” “uhh. hot air?”

“good riddance vampire fish!”

“jay, how did you ever become a ninja? seriously!”

“wrong again, mr. empty-head”

“zane. no”

Season 3

“my name was clearly on it!” “i didn’t see motor mouth on it!”

“who you callin ‘pedestrian’?” 

“yeah well i’m super hooped and i haven’t brushed my teeth in a week!!”

“it almost hit my mother”

“i know it’s a clue, zap trap”

“these toasters never know when to quit!”

“just testing the rules. first rule: cole’s a crybaby!”

“i can’t do it! i can’t do it! I CANT DO IT!!”

“I’m kind of a.. secret agent. *gasps* oops! guess it’s not a secret anymore”

“relax, when have i ever been careless”

“this car is worth far more than you”

“like all boys, you can be reprogrammed”

“his wisdom takes a while to set in. WE DONT HAVE A WHILE!”

“i can’t wait to see the expressions in the faces of those metal chrome domes” “they’re nindroids nimrod, they don’t have expressions”

“i owe you one” “okay, stay away from nya” “maybe a different one”

“it’s a BUG >:(“

“BAD GLOWY! BAD!”

Season 4

“i’m a ninja, and you are wearing makeup”

“fire will melt her icy heart”

“i feel guilt! these are bad feelings”

“see what this island is doing to me?! ITS CORRUPTING ME!”

“jay, would you stopmakingnoise?!”

“you just had to leave me hanging, huh romeo”

“mine are made of rock, what a crock >:(“

“ooo looks like kai’s got the hots for her”

“kai’s heart is on fire! kai’s heart is on fire! kai’s heart is on fire!”

“stop licking your tattoos”

“eat dirt, bluebell!”

“pixel?! you got a girl stuck in your head??”

“aahugh! my leg! get kai off me!!”

“just tell me one thing. was it his idea to make me fall for you, or yours? because it worked”

“you saved me for a reason. and you know i’m far to fetchy to resist ;)”

“curse this fraudulent furniture”

“everything’s a weapon in the big house!” * proceeds to brush enemies teeth*

“when people try to bust out of jail, they do it quietly, not LITERALLY”

“that’s one way to cool off a hot head!”

Season 5

“JUST TAKE THE FLYER!”

“woah! i think he just broke the sound barrier”

“yeah i know we’re terrible students!”

“woah, lloyds gone through puberty”

“hey! no one calls me pathetic!”

“you hear that kai?! we’re gonna fly!”

“why is it when lloyds gone, we always look to kai? we should be following zane”

“he turned my wolloper into a ghost! no one turns my wolloper into a ghost!!”

“no we don’t pinch! we don’t even have pockets!!”

“sure we can’t understand zane, but could we ever?”

“incase you haven’t noticed, there’s flying weapons trying to slide and dice us!”

“what is it?! what’s down there??? oh wait! don’t tell me! i don’t wanna know!”

“why would you touch the scary picture, jay? “i didn’t know it would do that, cole!”

“well, go face him, jay” “arugh! you go face him!”

“ohh i’m such a dummy”

“be the key, cole. BE THE KEY!”

“WHY DO I GET THE UNCONTROLLABLE SLEAD!!”

“you again >:(“ “you say that as if it’s a bad thing”

“you’d fight someone unarmed?” “that’s a good question, yes”

“ hate to spoil what’s next, but just because you’re in my friends body, watch out!”

“*snorts* i’m sorry, he said buttheads”

“i bet that’s what all nindroids say” “if you’re implying that smell came from me-“

“WHY ARENT WE LISTENING TO THE CLUE?!”

“STAY TOGETHER? IM JUST TRYING TO STAY IN ONE PIECE”

“hey guys, guess what?! i get an AWESOME EYEPATCH!”

“all you ninja do is talk, blah blah blah”

“AHH HES ATTACKING AN UNARMED MAN!”

“we’re not stalling! we’re thinking! he’s totally right, i’m stalling”

“augh this guy really chaps my hide”

“ughh! i hate unbeatable creatures!”

“let me handle the blowhard”

Season 6

“my hair is sick!”

“my followers have needs too”

“excuse me, which fruit is black?!” “uh, blackberries?” “shut it, jay” >:(

“it wasn’t me, dad! IT WASNT ME!”

“statistically speaking, your witty banter only gets us into more trouble”

“yeah but are you the master of kablewy”

“and we’re shuffling, we’re shuffling”

“working for a crime boss isn’t a very reliable career choice”

“YOU ATE OUR ONLY WAY OUT?!!”

“not now, sprocketarm”

“gosh why are you pirates so long winded!”

“i told you to hurry up!” “would you be quiet and run!”

“you have to act as our lightning rod!”

“the only thing i can see is your stupid hand, jay”

“AHHH HAAH ITS SO BIG!!”

“if i get out of here, i’m gonna bite YOU!”

“sorry for the delay, i’ve never had to milk the face of a giant spider before!”

“sorry pal, i don’t know who this lost love of yours is, but she ain’t nya”

“we’ll all be hooped if he has infinite wishes”

“you got what you wished for boulder brain!”

“we really need to start LISTENING TO ME!”

“said from the heart?! hearts don’t talk!”

“the world is falling apart and he’s eating soup!”

Season 7

“I DONT KNOW BUT ITS LOUD!”

“self diagnostic indicates negative” *jay hits him* “how about now?” “…no”

“leftie, rightie, nice to meet you. also, DO BETTER!”

“plate! show! clipboard!”

“we have a plan— go kick some butt”

“why am i so good? it’s a curse really”

“you can do this, you can do this. I CANT DO THIS IM TOO FREAKED!”

“you call this stabilizing?!” “i’m trying!” “try harder!!”

“let’s run straight at eachother and see if this will slow us down before we collide!” *all laugh*

“faster, jay!” “you’re so slow, cole!”

“sounds like someone’s earned his blackbelt in being a wet blanket”

“maybe they didn’t hear it!” *a second later* “no, they did”

“bring it on you vermillion doof!”

“yeah! that’s what i’m talking about! vermillion done! workers saved! ninja in the swamp!!”

“no matter how many times you watch those suckers hatch, it’s always gross”

“MOVE YOUR BUTT, ZANE!”

“did you just speak?” “no… okay that time i did”

“not just you you, young you too wu”

Season 8

“i could kiss ya, pix!” “i do not think zane would approve”

“cole, master of earth. and this is jay, master of blabber” “lightning”

“i told you not to introduce yourself as the master of earth, no one knows what that means”

“no you boldhead”

“who likes ice cream? i do!”

“it is nice to have a pooper at the party”

“they’re coles” “they’re BLUE!” “you’re lucky they’re not yellow”

“she’s also creepy” “par for the course in a mystical tea shop, jay”

“what sort of power does the green ninja have?” “it’s some kind of energy or green light. i don’t know, like all our elemental powers rolled into one”

“zane! knock me out! do something!”

“you lied? mystake why would you do that? i thought we were friends :(“

“it’s me zane, cole? or should i say my alias, rocky dangerbuff” 

“what is cole doing?!” “i don’t know but please tell me someone is recording”

“haha! come here you little sucker”

“totally called it!” “you did not” “did to!”

“he did not just!” “he just did!”

“at least cole jr’s fine, so we can give the diapers to jay!”

“who knows! he’s a living fortune cookie. everything he does is a puzzle meant to TORTURE US!”

“i’ve got an itch, you mind coming over here to scratch it ;)”

“this can end one of two ways, either you can hand the mask over peacefully” “i don’t even have to know the rest of the choices, i like that one” “or we’re gonna get all ninja up on you” “what does that even mean?” “i don’t know. i was improvising”

“don’t make me zap you!” *zaps him*

“did you just tell yourself to hold on..?”

“if that’s lord garmadon, i’m lord of the jig” “then you better start jigging”

“and kai knows bad ideas, he’s full of them!”

“to go” “to gooo?” *nodds* “to go”

“i’m sorry, we totally should’ve knocked”

“my brother is coming.” “how do you know?” “i know”

Season 9

“foil, i found foil!!!”

“you not freaking out, is freaking ME OUT” 

“kai baby, it’s much easier coping with life’s problems when you let go of hope!”

“yeah, he’s totally lost it” “no, i’ve totally found it”

“pfft that’s rich, now we’re teaching him lessons he taught us!”

“quit messing with my tunes, man”

“that was a learning experience”

“so, watcha doing, jay?” “it’s my new video game console, i built it myself”

“ooo are we playing hide and seek?”

“who’s diapers are those?” “uh, they’re jay’s— tell them jay” “oh.. i have a weak bladder”

“okie dokie, off we go”

“this isn’t good, jay. this is bad”

“oh boy. i believe jay’s mental state has made him useless to our plight”

“i borrowed it earlier, just like how you borrowed my wisdom”

“can this get any better!” “can you get anymore nuts!”

“and here i thought we were at rock bottom,” *while laughing* “this is so much worse”

“if i’m going out, i’m going out with bells on”

“how do we get out of here alive?!” “the sooner you realize we can’t, the more fun it’ll be”

“i do not believe that is possible…” “i was being scarcastic” 

“we did it! we did it! we did it!”

“then stay at home, tinsil toes”

“tell me you have a plan” “it’s in the works” “he doesn’t have a plan”

“easier to grow a little than to lose a lot”

“a teenager?! now we’re in for it”

“how do we know one of them isn’t already pretending to be ONE OF US?!” “oh zip it, jay”

“you know what you need? confidence” “you mean cocky, like you?”

“haha! we should teach him how to drive next”

“listen to me you silly master of dunce!”

“could you pass a roasted lizard stick up here?! i’m kind of hungry too!”

“did i… did i do that right? a joke?”

“that’s not fair you bullied them!”

“oh my gosh! he just grew a mustache!”

“THEY ARE GONNA EAT US!”

“if you are gonna eat us, eat him first he’s full of cake!” “am not!”

“i know, the commute is terrible”

Season 10

“i find the term ‘freak out’ inadequate and imprecise”

“i can’t believe i have to babysit my own father”

“you gotta just do it, jay! it’s like ripping off an old bandaid, the sooner you get it over with, the better” “uhm did you just compare nya to an old bandage?” “way to go, cole. way to take the romance out of it”

“ha! fat chance”

“i wouldn’t trust you with a… a… a…” “a pillow! what.. it’s the least threatening thing i could think of”

“oh c’mon that was awesome!” “it was adequate!” 

“we thought we lost you, you jerk!”

“we really need to talk about your sense of timing, jay”

Season 11

“get his legs! hold him!” “those are MY legs!!”

“i looked it in the eye!”

“yeah of all the bad ideas i’ve heard, and i’ve heard a few, looking at you kai, this takes the cake”

“guys guys, you’re both to valuable to risk. it should be someone expendable, like jay.”

“cole! you could’ve smashed kai!”

“you say that like i should be totally cool running into a long deceased explorer” 

“i think i swallowed my teeth”

“worst parking spot ever”

“that would save us hours and hours of slow boring back breaking work. oh well, we’ll just have to do it the slow boring back breaking way”

“speaking of slow, where’s kai?”

“fire maker has more miracles”

“you made me go back to the bounty for the travelers tea and it fell of a cliff!”

“pull me up! quick!” “i can’t! you’re too heavy!” “what are you trying to say!?”

“nya, whatever you’re doing DO IT FASTER!”

Season 12

“take that! obsolete file formats!”

“use the VCRs!” “what’s a VCR?”

“yeah, who would know a guy super into stealing things has a lot of stuff”

“not again! cant i go like two seconds without losing my elemental power?!”

“hey guys, do you know who’s totally lame? unagami that’s who!”

“anyone who likes jay that much can’t be normal”

“ninja vs bushes!”

“great! now i can see what i’m looking at, and it’s even worse”

“how do you get a ninja to cross the road? by saying ninja go!”

“that was a terrible joke” “you got a better one?!”

“keep those shoulders back! find your center!”

“lead with your hips!”

“nobody puts cole in the corner!”

“it was time for these two gumshoes to beat feet”

“she had saved my nindroid bacon”

“you are beginning to get on my nerve circuits”

“my heart did not reveal that! every part of me is annoyed!”

“is the mechanic doing your detective thing too? this is just weird!”

“if only this were a pizza joint. pizza would never betray be like this!”

Season 13

“it’s like… like, totally super cool!”

“pfft, that’s gotta be made up” 

“AHHH NOT MADE UP NOT MADE UP NOT MADE UP!!!!”

“it’s not that we don’t believe you…” “i don’t believe him :)”

“hey buddy! hey there. name’s cole, ninja. i heard there was some jerk down here, chaining people up, making them work. you seen any jerks around?”

“baushau it’s in mouth it’s in mouth babbbuuhwv i think i’m gonna barf”

“we aren’t skeletons! i mean we have skeletons obviously, but there’s so much more to us. like veins and organs and stuff” “i have none of those things”

“my first notion as chancellor is for everyone to stop THROWING STUFF AT ME!”

“oh great! now i’m hanging from a skeleton who’s hanging from a root! and i’m talking to myself again”

“don’t think about how gross this is, don’t think about how gross this is. ohuwha i’m thinking about it. i’m thinking about it!”

“you!” “shall!” “not!” “be granted permission to traverse beyond this point!”

“eat my dust!”

“i’m looking at the skull, it’s not as ugly”

Season 14

“zippy!! let’s call him zippy!”

“how can i be a gift?” “yeah? who would want jay?” “uhm… me?”

“we’re friends remember? i’m just a jay”

“i happen to think i am quite valuable thank you very much!”

“you’re gonna see the inside of a jail cell for this, ronin”

Season 15

“this is somewhat troubling”

“we’re being haunted by the ghost of some butler! probably named ducklesworth or something”

“jay honey, that reminds me. i need to teach you how to bleach your boxer shorts”

“zane, you don’t require a breathing device.” “yes, but i like how it completes my attire”

“THIS IS NO WAY TO TREAT A TOURIST!”

“The citizens of bubbletubbuleopolis will not be pleased!! this will affect your tourism!”

“your chair does have a seatbelt, jay”

“cake is usually the answer to everything!”

“that is what i just said! why are you repeating me?!”

“yeah! take that you big worm!”

“SHE THINKS IM A CHEW TOY!!”

“think, what would zane do? actually no. think, what would kai do?”

so yeah i’m deeply in love with this show

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago text post #ninjago memes #ninjago kai #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #bo speaks

[uriel-is-best-girl]

-Orv pokemon au-

I'm sorry, but hear me out: gengar! Kdj. All the gengar pokedex entries are about it being evil except for one, which says that it was once human itself and looks for a traveling companion and tries to make one by stealing the life force of humans. Now imagine a recently deceased kdj who only remembers bits of his human life, only remembers how lonely he was, waking up alone in as what he assumes in a ghost (he doesn't figure out what happened until people point at him and scream that hes a gengar). Kdj is sad, he wanders around in shadows, and hes still so lonely, but hes also bored. So he learns how to manipulate shadows, how to make them laugh and move. Kdj will sometimes pretend those shadows are real people, his friends... Not many things attack kdj, but as all things go it does happen often enough (ussually trainers) that he learns how to fight, or how to run away if a trainer tries to capture him. He avoids capture becausehe doesnt want to be someone's pokemon + hes also afraid of hurting someone he might care about (ie: if he started caring about a trainer), he knows what the people whisper about gengars, how they steal the life force of humans just by being around them. And he doesn't want to risk hurting a naive kid who just wanted a cool looking pokemon.

Ok, time to cut to the part I care about, gengar!kdj meets child!yjh who is lost in the woods and the yjh has scraped knees and seems to be looking for something. Kdj hasnt seen anyone in a hot second and, agaimst his better judgement, decides to try and lead the child outfit the forest. But when kdj steps out yjh's eyes light up and he points at kdj and shouts "I CHOOSE YOU!" no pokeball, the kid (hes like 11 btw) just walks up to kdj, grabs his hand/paw and starts dragging him somewhere. Kdj is so shocked (all reactions hes gotten in the past have been fear or hatred) that he just lets the kid pull him.

K, so some background for yjh. His parents are both gym leaders (maybe of the same gym) and he rarely sees them, with them having a place to stay at the gym when they have extra work or just don't want to go home. So yjh was raised more by sitters and himself than them, but, he thinks maybe if he becomes an amazing pokemon trainer, like them, theyll be proud of him or want to see him more. Essentially, he thinks he's the problem. So when hes finally old enough to choose a starter pokemon lets say he couldn't choose one for some reason, maybe they were all gone when he got there, or he needed a signed permission slip and couldnt get it signed in time, whatever. Yjh goes home and cries just a little (a lot) in that empty house. The next day yjh is determined again. If he cant get a pokemon from the professor, then hell just go find one. So he goes out through the forest (hes wearing those shorts and a t shirt you see the kids wearing in pokemon games) and the first pokemon he finds that doesnt run away is kdj. (Yes, this does mean that that yjh shouted 'i choose you' at many other pokemon and they ran away).

So like just imagine yjh who had no plan other than "get pokemon" dragging kdj back home with a sense of satisfaction.

Alright yjh doesnt put kdj in a pokeball because he doesnt have any. Also yjh isnt really training kdj, he just plays with him. Imagine yjh dragging kdj out for adventures or pulling out board games they could play. Eventually yjh gets a second controller so kdj can play videogame with him (kdj doesn't really have thumbs i think so the controller is on the floor and he leans down to move the sticks and press buttons). One day yjh tells kdj that theyre companions, "in life and death" and yjh smiles at his own joke (bc kdj is dead hahahahhaha). Oh yeah, and when they have to name their chatacters in a video game, kdj names himself "kim dokja" and yjh takes note that thats his name.

Ok, but ofc now its time for angst. So after like, idk a couple weeks or months yjhs parents come home, see the gengar and freak out. Yjh is all excited to show his parents that hes going to be a pokemon trainer too and arent you proud of me? And then his parents both throw put their pokemon. Like, idk a growleth and gardivor. And kdj is expert at running away by now, but he only pretends to run away, he comes back and hids in the shadows because he's worried for his only friend. Kdj watches yjh's parents yell at him once they find out he brough kdj in, saying things like "you know what those things do when wild right? They suck you life force out, even tamed ones are still dangerous and evil. At this rate youll never be a good pokemon trainer" and other hurtful shit. Kdj is super hurt, especially when they say he had been sucking the life force of yjh. His worst fear is coming true, and he thinks yjh must hate him by now. There goes his only companion. Afterwards kdj cant bring himself to leave yjh so he waits in the shadows and hes also worried for yjh after the thing with his parents and he wants to protect him. Kdj figures so long as he's not in yjh's shadow then the whole life sucking thing won't happen bc he doesnt really know how that works.

Yjh ofc doesn't believe that kdj was hurting him and starts to feel disillusioned with his parents. And so he runs away with some money and buys pokeballs and becomes a pokemon trainer for real (after unsuccessfully trying to find kdj). Yjh is sad about kdj for a long time, until, he realizes that kdj is following him. It takes months, for him to both notice and realize the shadows moving out of the corner of his eyes are kdj. It offers him some consolatiom to know that kdj is still here, but it also hurts not being able to see him and that he hides. So yjh continues on, with kdj right behind him, and set on proving his parents wrong. On the way he builds up his team and makes friends, and kdj watches from the distance. Kdj doesnt know if he was lonlier before, when he had no one, or now, only able to watch from afar.

Ok so but obvi yjh isnt just going to let kdj stay in his shadow forever. Hes constantly on the search for information about gengars, he reads all the dex entries he can find and learns that gengar are rumored to have once been people and it makes all the more sense: kdj having a human name, his literacy, and yjh wishes again that he could see kdj again. Ok so I figure is also yjh hunting down ghost type trainers for more information/starts trying to figure out how to bring kdj out. And imma say that kdj cant hear whats happening while in the shadows so he has no idea that yjh still cares about him. And ofc all yjh's friends know that yjh is looking for someone(?), he doesn't tell them all the details but some of them figure out more things (like that its a pokemon, it was a childhood friend, excetra) but in bits and pieces. All of them are in favor of him finding this person though because sometimes he just looks a little sad, when he looks at the shadows or talks about kdj. And kdj knows none of this. Blah blah this is years later, yjh is now an adult cool.

Ok I've got a two options for how kdj is brought back up, and one of them involves han sooyoung being a gengar.... (yjh defeats idk like ysa or smone who is the champion and she's all like ok what do you want, and yjh is like I want to know how to get this gengar thats been following me around to come out of the shadows. And han sooyoung is ysa's gengar that she sends it into the shadows to get kdj to come up. But I dont like that one as much)

Option 2: yjh ends up finding hsy who is like a spirit medium (she uses things the dead tell her as inspo for her writing). And so hsy is all like yeah I can help you, but itll cost you blah blah money. So hsy does wooo woo magical talk to ghosts shit and manages to get kdj out of the shadows. Ok Im finally running out of steam for this so bassically yjh takes kdj's hand (btw gengar are like 4'11 according to the pokedex) and tells him "stay" when kdj seems like hes going to disapear. And then yjh drags kdj home and makes him play video games and kdj is introduced to all of yjhs friends just by always being with him and kdj makes friends with all of them. No one but hsy saw the smile on yjh's face when he saw kdj again (kdj was looking away). And the end, they live happily ever after, yjh prospers despite his shitty parents and kdj has friends and feels more alive now than when he was actually alive.

ALSO THIS IS PLATONIC JOONGDOK BC IM NOT GOING TO EVEN TRY AND WRAP MY HEAD AROUND IT BEING ANYTHINH OTHER THAN PLATONIC THANK YOU.

Also if you made it this far thank you but also srry bc Im not editing this monster.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #yoo joonghyuk #kdj #omniscient reader #orv au #au #platonic joongdok #bc kdj is literally a pokemon #and im not going there #yoo jonghyuk x kim dokja #joongdok #kdj x yjh #han sooyoung #omniscient reader’s viewpoint

[yellowsuitcase]

In the Prefect’s Bathroom // Draco Malfoy

Request @bii-aan-ckaa​ : Hi there! I hope you are well. I just have a request for Draco Malfoy x Y/N. You’re dating Harry Potter but you hate Draco and one day in class you’re paired with Draco and he starts tracing his fingers up your thigh and whispering naughty things in your ear like how he would fuck you so hard and rough like you want it and how he’s seen how you look at him in class and how you turn him on and y/n gets flustered and goes to the prefects bathroom and Draco comes after and she just kisses him hard and they have rough hate sex and he makes her say how he’s better than her boyfriend and how he’s going to fuck her whenever he wants to

A/N: Tbh I procrastinated this request for a long time, but once I sat down to write it, everything came easily and I’m very pleased with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy! P.S Sorry about Harry :(

Summary: Y/N and her boyfriend, Harry, hate Draco. But what happens when Y/N gets paired up with him for a potions assignment?

Warning(s): SMUT!!! Unprotected sex, fingering, hickies, dirty talk, hate fucking, possessiveness, cheating

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

{Not my gif}

“Harry, wait up!” Y/N called after her boyfriend. He was running a few paces ahead of her. The two of them were about to be late for Potions. Harry turned his head briefly and smiled brightly at Y/N. She rolled her eyes and sped up so that she was nearly beside Harry now. They sprinted down the dungeon steps and burst through the archway into Snape’s classroom just as the bell rang. Everyone’s eyes shifted to the pair, who were huffing and puffing. 

“Today’s lesson will be on Felix Felicis. You will each be paired up with a fellow student. No, you may not pick your partner. I will do that for you,” Snape said coldly. His eyes shifted to Harry and Y/N. “Mr. Potter, you’ll be working with Mr. Goyle. You, Ms. Y/L/N, will be with Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps with him, you’ll be able to actually brew an accurate potion.”

Y/N glared at the blonde-haired boy by the name of Draco. It was well known throughout Hogwarts that Harry and Draco didn’t get on, but their hateful relationship was nothing compared to his with Y/N. The two of them were prefects, Y/N being a Gryffindor and Draco being a Slytherin. This meant they saw each other at prefect meetings and at other school functions. Y/N despised him for multiple reasons. He was an absolute prick to her boyfriend, which obviously didn’t sit well with her. Not to mention Draco would tease Y/N about everything, no matter if it were her shoes or her nose. If Draco noticed anything out of sorts, he would poke and prod at it. And on top of Draco’s constant rude remarks and banter, Y/N couldn’t deny the fact that to put it bluntly, he was hot. She felt utterly horrible for thinking this about him, but Draco was, in Y/N’s mind, the most attractive boy she’d ever laid eyes on...aside from Harry, of course. 

Reluctantly, she walked over to the empty stool beside Draco and took a seat. The boy smirked at her and held eye contact for just a couple seconds too long before turning his attention to Snape, who was going over instructions. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, and not from the running. The class had hardly started, and she was already distracted. She blinked rapidly, trying to snap out of her thoughts. Her eyes landed on the spread in front of her. Y/N knew Felix Felicis to be a difficult potion to brew because of its intricacy, and if she remembered correctly, it took many months to complete. However, it looked as though they were going to start from the beginning today. Y/N nervously picked at the skin around her nails as she scanned the ingredients. She recognized most of them: Occamy Eggshells, Murtlap Tentacles, Common Rue, and Thyme. But there were a couple other items she was unfamiliar with. 

“I will only help you with the first few steps, then you will have to go by your textbooks. We’ll start with the Ashwinder egg. Add it to your cauldrons,” Snape instructed. Y/N’s hand hovered over the various items. She was about to grab what looked like an egg, but a hand on her wrist stopped her. “It’s not that one,” a haughty voice said. Y/N turned to glare at Draco, who kept his hand on her while using his other to grab an orange-reddish colored egg. He tossed it into the air, caught it, and slid it into their shared cauldron. Y/N wrenched her wrist from his grip. Draco chuckled at this. “Not my fault you didn’t know what an egg looked like,” he retorted. Y/N huffed angrily. “Eggs can come in many different shapes and sizes. Forgive me for being cautious.” Draco raised an eyebrow as he turned up the heat of the fire beneath the pewter cauldron. He appeared unimpressed.

“Now for the Squill Bulb. Stir vigorously after adding it in,” Snape muttered as he slowly circled the classroom. Y/N groaned quietly. She wasn’t familiar with this ingredient, either. While she frantically scanned the table, she felt a hot breath on her neck. “You look pretty when you’re scared,” Draco whispered into her ear. A shudder ran down her spine, and she shifted in her seat while she pressed her thighs together. Her eyes flickered to Draco. He was gazing at her intently, his eyes running up and down her body. “Shut up, Malfoy. I'm not scared, I'm just unsure,” Y/N snapped, but she knew her words weren’t convincing. Draco leaned over her and snatched the brown bulb at the far end of the table. He lingered there for a moment, his body close to Y/N’s. Then he sat back, plopped the item into the cauldron, and began to stir swiftly. His eyes didn’t meet Y/N’s, but she couldn’t take hers off of his. Fortunately, she was snapped out of her trance by Snape slamming a textbook onto the table. Y/N bit her lip, preventing a curse word from flying, as she turned around to see her professor behind her. He sneered down at her and aggressively turned the book's pages until landing on the relevant section. 

“Follow instructions, Y/L/N. Just because you’re paired with Malfoy doesn’t mean you can slack off,” he scolded. Once again, all eyes turned to Y/N, whose face was burning crimson. She blocked out the shame surging in her stomach and pulled the textbook close to her so she could identify the next step in the potion. It called for Murtlap Tentacles. But first, they must be cleaned and chopped up. Y/N grasped the worm-like strands and laid them on her cutting board. 

She had just begun to chop them up when she felt a hand on her thigh. It was evident that the hand belonged to Draco. She glanced to the side, her eyes meeting his. He raised an eyebrow to ask silent permission. Y/N knew better, but she was curious and gave him a short nod. His fingers then traced lines up and down her leg, making her squirm. At that very moment, Harry decided to look over at his girlfriend. He gave her a soft, sympathetic smile to which she hurriedly returned as she tried to ignore what was happening underneath the table. But what Draco did next was not something she could put out of mind. His hand slid underneath her skirt, and she felt his finger brush over her clothed and slightly excited pussy. Y/N stifled a gasp and whipped her head towards Draco, shooting a nasty glare. He smirked at her and whispered, “Are you aroused, Y/N? Your panties are wet. Is it for me?”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. How was it that even his voice was sexy? She luckily got ahold of herself and promptly slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed. But Draco was unfazed. He added more ingredients to the potion-in-progress and stirred it absentmindedly. “You know, Y/N, I notice your stares. I see how you look at me. You don’t look at Harry like that, do you? Does he make you happy?” he questioned. Y/N straightened her spine, trying to appear unaffected by his inquiries. “He does make me happy, for your information,” she replied coldly. Draco’s focus remained on the potion as he asked another question, one that made Y/N falter. “But does he make you happy in bed, Y/N?” Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. How dare he ask such a thing. Y/N opened her mouth to reply but found that no words came to her aid. Harry was the best boyfriend she could ask for. But truthfully, he wasn’t the most skilled in the bedroom. He gave it his all, but it wasn’t quite enough for Y/N. However, it wasn’t a big deal; Y/N didn’t really mind having to finish the job with her hand after the deed. Sure, it wasn’t the most ideal situation, but it definitely wasn’t something to break up over, not in her mind. 

“No answer, huh? Seems my suspicions were right. He’s not satisfying you,” Draco whispered. Y/N shifted her eyes to her textbook, trying to reassert her concentration onto her schoolwork. But then Draco’s hand returned to her thigh, and he leaned in closer. “I could do better. God, I’d fuck you so hard and so much better than he ever could. I’d fuck you until you’d have to beg me to stop,” he muttered while slipping his index finger past her underwear and starting to stroke her. Y/N tried to close her thighs, but Draco’s thumb and pinky held them open as his finger found her clit and swirled around it lightly. “You turn me on, Y/N. And I know you want this. You can’t fool me.”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, she could feel her underwear growing wetter and her desire for the Slytherin increasing. It was getting to be too much; she didn’t think she could handle any more. Her hand pushed his away, and she stood up abruptly, sending her stool backward. The screeching of its feet on the floor got the attention of the class. “May I use the bathroom, Professor?” she asked. Snape leered at her but waved her off. Without hesitation, Y/N ran out of the classroom and sprinted for the Prefect’s bathroom. It was much farther than the regular toilets, but Y/N wanted extra security. She climbed many flights of stairs before arriving outside the door. Y/N spoke the password and rushed inside, not stopping to admire the chandelier or the freshly cleaned marble floors. She made a beeline for the enormous bath, kicking off her shoes and robe as she went. When she got to the bath, she sat down beside it and slid off her socks along with her skirt and underwear. Slowly, Y/N slipped her foot into the water. It was the perfect temperature. Eagerly, she yanked off her grey sweater and button-down shirt, leaving her in just her lacey bralette; it was red to match her house colors.

Y/N scooted towards the edge of the bath and carefully slid herself inside, submerging her body from her stomach down. The steam from the hot water instantly calmed her racing heart. She crossed her arms on the edge of the pool. This prevented her from sliding all the way under. Gently, she rested her head on top of them. But before allowing herself to relax, Y/N quickly scanned the bathroom. When she determined nobody was present, she closed her eyes and let her body soften. But her craved peace of mind didn’t come. The events of a few minutes prior were still swirling around in her head. Did he really touch me, or am I just imagining it? No, I can't be imagining it, not when my goddamn clit is still tingling from his finger. Y/N knew the cat was out of the bag. She thought she’d been doing an excellent job of hiding her attraction to Draco, but he said it himself; he’d seen the way she'd looked at him. He knew she liked him. Y/N felt terrible. How would Harry feel if he knew his girlfriend had a thing for the boy who made his school days hell? He certainly wouldn’t be pleased, that’s for sure.

Y/N’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a soft chuckle. She opened her eyes to see none other than Draco, kneeling right in front of her. She screamed and instinctively crossed her arms over her chest; she almost lost her grip on the edge of the bath by doing this. But at the last second, she regained her grasp and this time opted to press her chest against the side of the pool to shield herself from Draco’s view. 

“What are you doing here?” she yelled angrily, refusing to look at the boy. “I’m simply finishing what I started,” he said. Y/N’s eyebrows knit together. “Wha—” She was cut off by Draco smashing his lips against hers. At first, Y/N wanted to push him away, and she tried. She pressed her hands against his chest and started to shove him, but then he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, and her arms weakened. She melted into the kiss, all thoughts of Harry leaving her mind. Draco swirled his tongue around hers, causing her skin to prickle with arousal. Y/N sighed deeply and leaned in closer. She squealed when Draco began to suck her tongue before he abruptly pulled away. The pair gazed at each other, pure lust in their eyes. Draco suddenly grabbed her arms and hoisted her out of the bath. Once her feet touched the floor, his fingers immediately found her pussy and began rubbing. Y/N’s legs shook, and she grabbed onto Draco’s shoulders as he slid a finger inside her. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Draco muttered. Y/N whimpered and clenched her walls around his digit. “Don’t worry, you’ll be full soon enough,” he stated while sliding in another finger. Y/N was desperate at this point. She hadn’t touched herself in a few weeks, and Draco’s fingers were skilled. They were bringing her to her peak before Draco had even undressed. Not only was he skilled, but he was also experienced and thus noticed Y/N’s body language. He knew she was close, so he removed his fingers. Y/N cried out as she felt her climax fade away. “What the hell?” she growled while pressing her thighs together, trying to imitate the friction he'd provided. Draco said nothing as he slid down his pants and underwear,  smiling at her neediness. She glared at him, furious that he had denied her her orgasm, but he paid her no mind. When his clothes were shed, he roughly grabbed Y/N’s waist and steered her to the nearest wall. Without warning, he slammed her up against it and forcefully thrusted his cock inside her. The combined feeling of being full and the shock of the cold marble against her skin caused Y/N to let out a guttural moan. She dug her fingernails into Draco’s back, through his shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to adjust. His hips remained still, prompting Y/N to clench around him.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he grunted. Y/N whined when he still didn’t move and bucked her hips. “Oh, you want me to fuck you? Is that it?” he teased. Y/N narrowed her eyes. “I hate you,” she muttered. Draco winked at her and pulled out, she was frustrated initially, but then he thrusted back inside, roughly, making her scream. His hips snapped back and forth at a rapid pace. Y/N moaned loudly as her eyes fell shut. Her voice hitched every time his cock touched that spot deep inside her. “Tell me I’m better than him, Y/N. Tell me that I’m better than Harry, that I fuck you harder than him,” he growled. Y/N couldn’t form a coherent thought; there was no way she’d be able to speak a proper sentence. Draco gripped her arms tight and pounded her hard before ceasing his movements. Y/N opened her eyes; she was confused as to why he had stopped. “Say it,” he demanded. Y/N felt her body shudder and sweat slide down her neck. Draco slammed inside her again, startling her.

“You’re better! You fuck me better than Harry,” she sputtered. Draco smirked. “That’s right, princess. And don’t worry, I’ll be fucking you frequently. Whenever I want, I’ll sneak off to your common room, crawl into your bed, and fuck you until you see stars. I don’t even care if someone sees or hears. You’re mine now, understand? You’re my little fuck toy,” he husked. Y/N whimpered at his words. She’d never been more aroused than she was right then. He began to regain his fast pace, and Y/N cried out in pleasure. “Fuck, Draco!” she shouted. This seemed to egg Draco on as he thrusted into her even harder, making her tits bounce. “Draco, Draco, Draco,” Y/N moaned. The Slytherin grunted, leaned his head towards her neck, and latched his lips onto her soft skin. He took her skin in between his teeth and sucked forcefully. “That’s gonna leave a mark, Draco, stop,” she whined. Draco pulled away and snickered. “I know, that’s the point.” Y/N rolled her eyes. Bastard. 

Suddenly, Draco paused his movements and carefully pulled himself out. Before Y/N could speak, he spun her around so that her front was pressed up against the wall. He shoved his cock back inside her and resumed thrusting. “God, you’re so good. I’m gonna fuck you all the fucking time. And you’re going to let me, aren’t you, princess? You’re gonna let me pound that pussy whenever the fuck I want, right?” Y/N groaned, the sound of her voice and the slapping of skin reverberating off the bathroom walls. She was so close to her peak; she just needed a little more. “Answer me, slut,” Draco growled. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut as he roughly snapped his hips. “Yes. Shit, yes, I’ll let you fuck me whenever. Fuck, fuck! Draco, I’m gonna cum,” she squeaked. Draco gripped her hips tighter. “Then cum. Cum on my cock, you filthy little slut.”

That was all Y/N needed. She felt her orgasm pulse through her; it was as if her bloodstream was filled with electricity. Her body jerked with shocks of pleasure, and her vision turned white. Draco’s pace had never slowed throughout her high. In fact, it had sped up as he was nearing his own climax. With a few more thrusts, he came inside her with a loud moan. Y/N squeezed him tight, stimulating him through his orgasm. 

When he finished, he remained inside her as they both tried to catch their breaths. Y/N was utterly dazed. “I’ve never cummed that hard. Holy shit, Draco.”

“You said it yourself, I’m better,” he said with a smirk. 

Gently, he pulled out of her. Y/N turned around and leaned against the wall; her legs were trembling too much to stand without support. “I still don’t like you,” she stated. Draco cocked an eyebrow. “You sure bout that? You were just screaming my name about,” he raised his wrist to his face, pretending to check an invisible watch, “two minutes ago.” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look intimidating. 

“Because of you, we missed the rest of Potions and are likely going to be late to our next class, you moron,” Y/N complained while walking over to her pile of clothes by the still-hot bath. Draco was already dressed, considering he had only taken off his lower layer of clothing. He was readjusting his tie in the mirror while Y/N scrambled for a towel to clean herself up with. Draco cleared his throat. Y/N glanced over to see him lifting up a washcloth. She grumbled to herself as she stomped over to him. The Gryffindor snatched the cloth from his hand. “Thanks,” she said shortly. Draco shook his head and laughed. “You’ll warm up to me yet, Y/L/N.”

Y/N flipped him off, not bothering to look behind her. She knew he could see her in the mirror. “Fuck off, Draco, I still hate your guts even though you’ve just rearranged mine,” she called out, making Draco laugh again. Y/N sighed softly in disappointment. Not even her humor could distract her from the thought in her mind. How were things ever going to be normal with Harry again?

Taglist: @beiahadid​ @pastelpuffbar

#draco malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #Draco #draco malfoy x yn #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #Smut #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #malfoy smut #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #prefect #prefect bathroom #draco request

[daisies-and-buttercups]

“Love and War - Chapter III” - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: You’ve picked a side, and now you have to deal with the aftermath. 

A/N: When I started this fic I had a decent outline what I wanted to happen but my ideas sorta ended with this part. However, I’m loving where this is going and I have some more ideas, so there probably will be a few more chapters 👀  Either way, I want to thank everyone that liked and commented, not only on this fic but in general, it always makes me so happy and it really means a lot 💕

Words: 3.4k

Chapter I Chapter II

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Your house was now used to your incessant walking, the wood singing along as you stood on it over and over, pacing from one room to the other, picking the phone up, sighing, falling on the bed for a short moment before starting the routine all over again. 

By morning you had slept for only a few hours, the ghost of Arthur visiting you in your dreams to blame you for his death, shaking you up until you woke up. The sun was now high, making you jump up to reach the phone. You weren’t backing down, you’d have no more deaths.

The phone rang consistently, bothering Ada enough to make her pick it up, ignoring Tommy’s order against it.  “What?” Her tone was annoyed, but she understood once she heard yours, nervous and desperate. “Ada? Ada! I need to know where they are. I’m not having them kill each other.”  “Oh darling, I… I can’t. Tommy was adamant about not letting you know.” Her tone was now softer, having missed your conversations and feeling the desperation in your voice. “Ada, please. I covered you when you and Freddie-“ “Is this a me-and-Freddie situation?” “What?” “Is he your Freddie?”  Your fingers tapped on the table, looking up at the flowers that had started to wither. You had pressed the nicest ones in a book, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw the rest away and, even if dried out, they still somehow looked good, so you kept them.  Was he your Freddie? He definitely felt like what Ada had described all those years ago, the feelings she described so vividly were now also your own. You hadn’t spent long enough with him to truly know, but you didn’t want him to die before you had the chance to figure it out. “I don’t know, Ada. I think so.”  Her sigh was the only sign, along with your impatient tapping, that time was still flowing.  “The distillery. Tommy left not too long ago, so I’d rush there.”  You groaned and ran to get your shoes, running back to the phone to thank her. “You didn’t hear it from me, you hear me! Not from me!” She repeated over and over, hoping that you wouldn’t be the victim of the day. She really didn’t want to lose a friend. 

The roads were deserted as you ran past the first buildings, spotting the distillery in the distance.  You turned the corner, trying not to run the final meters that separated you from whatever was going on inside, thinking it wise to listen to what was happening before jumping into a situation you might not know how to handle, but stopped dead in your tracks. Someone stood outside the door, taking a few steps, listening, scratching his head and checking his gun. Someone that looked a lot like… “Arthur?”  He turned and faced you, smiling but quickly placing a finger over his lips, letting you know to be quiet. You walked fast again, walking over to him and crashing against his chest, pulling him in a quick hug, but freezing when you realised why he was out here. He wasn’t alone, but the men stayed back, leaving you the space to talk, holding their guns in clear sight nonetheless.  “How are you doing, love?” He whispered. “You’re… you’re meant to be dead.” “Hope it’s not too disappointing to see me still standing, dear” he laughed softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’d suggest leaving now, it ain’t gonna be pretty.” he motioned to the gun, glancing inside while focusing for a moment on the voices that could faintly be heard. You stood still, listening along and hearing Luca speak, then the sound of banging and glass breaking, the clear sound of a fight.  It was the vortex of emotions swirling in your steps that kept you there, trying to make sense of the situation. Your image of Luca had been shifted because of Arthur’s death, only to now find him standing there, armed, ready for a fight. And you knew who the bullets in his barrel were for. “Ah, that’s my cue. See ya, love.”  You weren’t sure if it was the sound of your heartbeat or of your footsteps, but before he had time to react you slipped past him, holding your stare straight ahead of you, the colour of blood painting your thoughts. It was rage, that rage that had never been strong, that always came when you weren’t part of Tommy’s plans. When you had to stay behind. When it was better if you didn’t know. You wasted all your tears on a man that wasn’t dead, not an ounce of regret in anybody’s mind when you walked in. 

The first thing you saw was Tommy’s expression drop when his eyes landed on you, the only person that could’ve complicated this further. Then you saw Luca.  His face wasn’t the same as when you last saw it. Gashes decorated it, his eye was swollen and his lips hung open, showing you the damage dealt in its full glory. It was a gruesome show, only made worse by the stares that you received for being there.  Tommy was holding him up when you walked in, the faint glimmer of surprise passing through his eyes, expecting Arthur to walk in, not you. But to see you walk over  to the bloodied man… maybe that’s what made him truly speechless. When you reached Luca you stopped, looking at his injuries for only a second before hearing Arthur cock his gun.  “Get away from him, sweetheart. I told you to leave.”  You turned slowly, first meeting Thomas’ cold stare and then facing the gun that was pointed at you, crossing your arms in defiance. “I’m not going anywhere, Arthur. Shoot me, I’m not leaving.”  Luca called your name, pulling you weakly away, trying to get you to stand behind him. He wouldn’t have you get killed over his life. But you didn’t move, asserting your position once more in front of the man, planting your feet harshly against the ground.  You saw Arthur’s eyes wander between you and Tommy, unsure as to what to do. You all waited for the next move, the only sound being Luca’s demands for you to leave as he clung to you, trying to get you to leave. “Go.”  Tommy spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on your hand, the one that gripped on to Luca’s. He couldn’t watch you, so worried for the life of that man. A person he had considered a friend, a helper, family, even, now standing on the enemy’s side.  You had been Luca’s only request. He didn’t care about the rest, but he wanted you to leave with him, if that was what you desired, and he didn’t want anyone trying to stop you. He wanted you, and that made Tommy’s blood boil, but he played his part, knowing full well that he had the upper hand. He knew that there's no leaving, not for you and not for him. There was nothing to go back to either way. Luca was never going to leave alive in Tommy’s eyes, but when you crossed the threshold the illusion shattered. The way you looked at him made it clear that you’d be willing to risk more than your life for the Italian. He’d been a fool, maybe, but there had always been something about your ways. He knew you, cared for you, and underestimated you all at the same time. In his eyes you’d always follow him like a lost puppy, just like Arthur did, but you were strong enough to break from his spell and get away. “Now!” he shouted, walking over to Arthur and ripping his gun out of his hands, aiming it at you, allowing his emotions to leave him, falling back into his new reality. You were an enemy now too, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.  A small flinch and the beginning of a tear was all that you allowed him to see before you moved, cringing at the sound of Luca grunting in pain at your movement, trying to pull him up somewhat gently, but not allowing him to see that, no matter where you stood now, this still hurt. 

Feeling your heart beat in your chest, you focused on the gun aimed at you for a moment, stopping at the door to look each one of them in the eyes. Tommy’s gaze didn’t falter, menacing and cold, while Arthur couldn’t look at you, moving away from where you stood, realising the side you chose didn’t match his own.  You had often sat with Arthur, the two of you ignored on many occasions and gave you an extra reason to bond, and he cared deeply for you, but he wouldn’t go against Tommy, not even to look at you to show you that he somehow wasn’t mad, just surprised and disappointed at your choice. 

While you walked out of the door, no man followed you, making it clear that Luca’s men were no longer his, Matteo standing still behind you, not daring to look up and meet Luca’s eyes, clutching his rifle tightly against his chest.   “I should be the hero coming to save you, not vice versa.”  “Yeah, well, maybe next time.” You muttered, struggling to walk while carrying most of his body weight.  You weren’t sure what other damage he had apart from his face, but his limping and laboured breathing suggested that other parts of his body had been wounded too. He pretended to be fine, taking steady steps before falling back onto you with a grunt, whispering a mix of Italian swear words and apologies. 

The moment you crossed the threshold of your house you walked him over to the sofa, finding the phone and calling the doctor before gathering anything useful that you could find, cursing at yourself for not being more organised.  “You could’ve died.” he spoke, his voice coarse as you made your way back to him with the various creams. “You’re a goddamn fool.” You muttered, dabbing his wounds, making him flinch and hiss in pain.  “Gentle, love.” He tried to joke, moving away from you, only to stop when the pain between his ribs got worse.  “I wouldn’t have to be gentle if you weren’t such an idiot.” You answered back, scoffing but softening your touches nonetheless. The doctor was going to be here soon, so you decided to focus on the various cuts, moving as gently as you could, wiping away the blood and removing any piece of glass still stuck in his skin.  “Never do that again.” He spoke seriously now, moving ever so slightly while you took care of him, lifting his hand to wipe some of his blood that had gotten on your cheek.  “Never do what again, save your ass?”  “Stand between me and a gun.” It had been a bold move, trusting your gut, knowing that Arthur wouldn’t shoot at you, even when your brain was cursing at you to get out of the way, but you weren’t sure if that made all the difference. You hadn’t thought about it, you just felt the need to stand in front of him, to shield him, whatever the outcome.  “Then next time be on the right end of it.”  Your movements were stopped by his hand gripping yours, holding the blood-stained rag still, some of the drops dripping down your arms, colouring your skin with faint red lines. “That was my intention and always has been, I can assure you, but in no circumstance I want you to take a bullet for me.” His eyes wandered, looking at you while you took care of him. He couldn’t have hoped for a better sight, yet something about the scene before him tugged at something deep within him. The fear of what he thought he could never achieve being right in front of him, maybe.  “Turns out I am here to clean up your wounds in the end, eh?” you joked, trying to wipe the serious look off his face along with all the blood.  “Y’ won’t want to kiss me anymore, with all these cuts. Too many scars.” “Who said I ever wanted to kiss you in the first place?” It was a harmless joke, proved for good measure by the soft kiss you placed on his lips, the meeting of your tongues enticed by both of your lips curving into a soft smile, the feeling of finally belonging somewhere filling your chest. “You never seemed to mind, dear.”  “I’ll always want to kiss you.” You added, letting the truth run free. He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he smiled, gently caressing your face with his fingertips, tracing invisible lines.  “No good came from kissing this old man, sweetheart. You-“ his words were interrupted by the timid knock on the door. He watched as you rose, making your way to the door, welcoming the doctor in and gesturing towards Luca, quickly explaining that you tended his external wounds and needed some help at assessing the internal ones. He looked away, nodding at the annoyance of being interrupted. 

“He’s got a broken rib. It will take him up to two months to fully recover, but in a week or two the pain should lessen. He’s also running a low fever. Everything seems under control, but if it rises you’ll have to monitor his condition.” The small man talked quietly, as if he didn’t want Luca to hear. Timid steps made him grow closer to the exit with each word he spoke, evidently eager to leave. “Thank you, doctor.”  He nodded, turning to walk away, stopping just before the door to glance behind him, looking at Luca, now standing tall behind you. “Is there a problem?” You asked, feeling the tension rise. You knew that Tommy had men all over town, but you didn’t want to believe that the doctor that had been helping you for years might be close to turning on you.  “They told me to deliver a message.”  A message. Through a man, rather than a phone call. Was that too personal for him now? They had no issue telling you about Arthur’s supposed death by phone, but now that he was threatening you, he used someone else’s voice.  “Have they, now?” Luca’s words were raspy, still out of breath from the movement and the pain, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating in the doctor’s eyes.  He was shorter than both of you, a small and round man, and, even with a broken rib and in pain, he knew Luca could easily overpower him if he so wished.  “They… Mr. Shelby said that you’ve got to leave. You’ve got until tomorrow. If you’re not-“ he took a deep breath, trying to steady his trembling voice, “if you’re not on the last ship out of here they’d…” he trailed on, not wanting to anger either of you. A quick glance at you and he nodded, rushing out of the door, closing it behind him in a haste, eager to get away. You turned, letting out an exasperated sigh while Luca stood behind you, considering the doctor’s words. He hadn’t looked at you, only at him, which meant that it was very likely that their appreciation for you over the years had counted for something. They wouldn’t kill you.  “I’ll pack my bags.” It wasn’t a question, there was no doubt that you’d follow him. Life with the Shelby’s had been a blessing, some of the best years of your life, but you doubted Tommy would welcome you back, at least not so soon. There was nothing left for you here, not in the land of Thomas Shelby.  “He’s not after you.” he tried to stop you from grabbing the bag, grabbing a hold of your hand as he spoke, holding you in place. You moved to face him, studying his expression. A lot of Luca came from his eyes, using his words to charm and threaten and keeping his secrets hidden deep inside. “But he’s after you.” “You’ve got a life here.”  “I had a life here.” you answered, feeling the electricity of a new start in the air. “If I stayed I’d have to find a job, and not only are most businesses owned by the Blinders, but those that aren’t wouldn’t welcome someone that got away from them on bad terms. They’re feared, and I’d just make whoever wanted me a target. I made a choice, Luca, and you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” you laughed, moving closer to him and caressing his cheek, gently, avoiding the small cuts. “I get to start over.” He smiled at your words, wishing he had your way of seeing things, the simpler ones, his eyes now trained to see the thousands of possibilities and dangers that his way of life offered him so easily, yet ignoring the other possibilities, the ones that weren’t deadly. You complemented each other, lacking what the other was strongest in. And while he looked at you, all he saw was the image of the wife he never could’ve dreamed of having, hoping that one day you’d be just that. He smiled again at the thought, watching you as you walked back to your bed, opening your bag to pack your belongings.  “America?” you asked, choosing the limited clothes you could bring. You could buy more once you arrived there, but you were sentimental and some had to come; the dress you wore on your first day in Small Heath, the one you had on when you saw Ada’s kid for the first time, and the few dresses you wore with Luca. You placed them all neatly, feeling the soft fabric under your hands, picking a few other items to fill the bag. A photograph of you, Polly and Ada, all smiling proud, a pearl necklace that made you feel like you could rule the world, along with a few memories of your years in England. He nodded, still deep in thought. “Will Matteo be joining us later on?” “Matteo’s with the Blinders now.” “Is he?” you smiled at him, knowing that the truth wasn’t that simple, and when he looked at you, you knew you were right. The mafia didn’t work with money, but with honour. It was a different world from Tommy’s, and Matteo wasn’t going to bail on the Changretta family just for some extra money. “There’s only two ships leaving, one tonight and one tomorrow.” He watched you from the mirror, his fingers lightly dragging over his wounds while he was deep in thought. “They’ll know where to find us.” you spoke the implication out loud, giving you the time to think of a solution. “So what if we don’t go to America?” He stood, his eyes closing at the brusk movements, still not used to the level of care he needed to take when he moved, making his way to the small table where a bottle of wine had been discarded the night before, half of its contents still in it, two glasses lined up next to it but only one used.  “My family needs me.” “Yeah, alive.” “The Shelby’s have fucked with the business, I’ve got to fix their deeds.”  “But you can’t fix anything if they kill us tomorrow.” he opened his mouth, ready to protest, but you continued “I’m talking about one extra day, one stop before heading to America.”  The wine was sweet, calming his nerves in the slightest of ways. “What do you suggest?”  “Call your family, fill them in on what they haven’t figured out on their own. Then we pack our things, spend the night in each other's arms and when we wake up, we leave. The ship sets sail tomorrow at 9am.”  “You’ve planned this.” You nodded, looking at the man that stood before you with a pleased smile. You had spent enough time alone with your thoughts to come up with more than one plan, and this one was your favourite. A simple exit. You picked up the papers, the tickets for your journey, that had been abandoned on the desk, handing them to him with a wink.  “Italy. You’ve got family over there too, right? I’m sure you’ll be able to secure us a place to sleep for the night, and if not I guess we’ll just have to sleep under the stars.” You raised your hand dramatically, moving your fingers around an imaginary constellation. “Then we leave for America. One day, a small change in plan, and we’ll have the Shelby’s waiting for us here. Wrong place, wrong time, but not for us. And once we arrive, you’ll have all the time to fix what needs to be fixed. Deal?”  He took a second to think about it, pursing his lips in thought, watching as you waited patiently, switching your weight from one leg to the other. Then he nodded, your hands lifting in victory as you approached him, softly placing your arms on his shoulders.

“We have a deal.” 

#luca changretta x you #luca changretta x reader #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #Liza's attempts at writing

[yumeyooa]

revenge is brutally sweet | jeon jungkook

—jeon jungkook’s life so far has been going well. he’s the guitarist of the most famous band in the scene, he’s got the girl of his dreams, and everything he’s ever wished for is in the palm of his hands. what he doesn’t expect though, is to wake up one day in the middle of a controversy. what the controversy is, you may ask? a new band has been hitting the charts, and their lead singer is none other than you, a former member of the band and his ex-girlfriend.

➢  pairing: jeon jungkook x female! reader

➢ genre: angst | slight fluff | band au | slight highschool au | post breakup au | exes au | r 15 | guitarist! jungkook | vocalist! reader

➢ word count: 14.6k+

➢  warning: profanity | heavy drinking | toxic relationships | messy break-ups | self depriciation | bullying | messy closure | this is just very much super angsty

➢ love letter: AH SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG T_T I kinda drowned in midterms AHSHSHs but I hope you enjoy this fic <33 there’s more to this angsty collection to come so stay tuned!! 

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Life couldn’t be any better. 

This is what Jeon Jungkook constantly told himself every morning after his short, fifteen-minute shower while messily tousling his hair in an extra-soft towel as he takes in the dreary yet somehow vibrant view from his penthouse apartment, soaking in the sun’s rays. 

The city was busy, even though the sun had just risen and bloomed into full glory. The streets were filled with people rushing to get wherever they needed to be, cars driving past with the fervor of a shackled mad man on wheels. If Jungkook looked closer, he would have probably seen the black exhaust drifting in the air from the fumes of those ecologically damaging vehicles or the frantic looks on an office worker’s face as they hurriedly crossed the street obviously late for work. 

But alas, Jungkook couldn’t care less about the trials and tribulations of some strangers he didn’t even know. After all, his life was going great. In fact, he was literally walking on cloud nine at this point and felt like nothing had stopped him. 

Of course, it wasn’t always this way, which was why Jungkook appreciated his success tenfold. 

He, like every other success story, had started from the ground up. Music was something he had always dreamed of doing for the rest of his life. Ever since his grandfather had first shown him how to play the guitar, the melodies had wrapped their whimsical tunes around his heart and made themselves stay. It was fascinating to him how playing a couple of strings could produce such music that could move souls and bring smiles to people’s faces.

And ever since then, he was hooked. Every chance he got, he would play the guitar even if his parents tried to pry him off it. 

They wanted him to be a doctor after all, and there was no way in hell he was going to go by their wishes. While being a doctor was great, it didn’t ignite the same spark that music did, and for Jungkook, he would rather die than live a life without his flame running ablaze.

So, against his parent’s wishes, he pursued a career in music. It wasn’t easy, of course. At first, he had no support system for his dream. His friends and teachers ridiculed and discouraged him, saying that the future was bleak and he had no hopes of making it big. But if Jungkook knew anything about himself, it would most likely have to do with the fact that he was extremely stubborn and persistent, much to the disappointment of the adults in his life. 

So he continued. He continued reaching his dreams, joining every music-related activity he could at his age until he finally met Mr. Park.

Mr. Park was a bright man who came in one day as a replacement for their music teacher, who was an old lady who stuck to the classics and had a somewhat deceiving grading system. He came into class with disheveled hair, an unkempt tie, and when he turned around to write his name on the board, the whole class laughed as they could see his heart print underpants peeking through. 

But despite his clumsiness and seemingly carefree nature, Mr. Park was a master at his craft. He was the epitome of what a music teacher should be; exceptionally skilled, eloquent, and passionate about what he did. But Mr. Park had another talent that not many knew about, which was the eye for potential.

And Mr. Park saw potential in Jungkook.

He had taken Jungkook under his wing and taught him the ropes of music life. The keys of the piano, how notes were read, how symphonies were made. And the more Jungkook learned, the more he yearned for a life surrounding music. When he voiced his wishes to Mr. Park, expecting to receive the same rejection he had always known, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that he had his support.

Mr. Park was the very first person who saw that Jungkook could have a future in music. He was the very first person who showed Jungkook that there was a path for him to take that was far better than the path his parents laid out for him. A rocky path filled with trials and tribulations but ultimately reaped great rewards in the end. 

Like a moth drawn to its flame, Jungkook was attracted to the seemingly devastating path because somehow, amid the darkness, there was hope. Hope for a happier future, a future that wasn’t filled with regret and mourning but full of triumph and satisfaction. Jungkook would be a fool not to pursue the latter.

And thus, in hopes of finally seeing the light, Jungkook decided to start his own band. 

It didn’t start off right away, though. After all, no kid at his school wanted to be part of a band that, in the eyes of their parents, was a complete waste of time. Jungkook kept his small dream hidden deep within his heart, yet even so, it still burned with an unyielding passion. Even if years passed and no opportunity for him to start a band was in sight, Jungkook didn’t give up, knowing that his persistence would one day reap great rewards.

And finally, his chance came in the form of you. 

From the very beginning, Jungkook had always thought you were strange. In a prestigious school known for being the epitome of perfection and class, you were the odd one out, sticking out like a sore thumb with your disheveled appearance and undignified manner of carrying yourself. Almost immediately, you were set to be the outcast, ridiculed by your peers for your looks and mannerisms, even if, in Jungkook’s opinion, you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary.

Unfortunately, the world is never kind to those who are different. 

Jungkook’s phone rings from where it is laid on his bedside table, the alarm blaring loudly, causing a shift in the once serene atmosphere of his apartment. Jungkook pays it no mind at first, choosing to finish drying his hair before finally picking up the phone, voice groggy and slightly annoyed from having his peaceful morning interrupted.

“Who is it?” He hastily asks, not meaning to sound as harsh. But could he really be blamed when it was 7 AM in the morning, and he wasn’t expected to show up to any scheduled event until noon?

“Jungkook!” An exasperated voice exclaims from the other side of his phone. It was Namjoon, his manager, Jungkook, quickly concludes. Although it was rare for him to call so early in the morning, especially in such a panicked state. Perhaps he forgot to inform him of a schedule? Although that was annoying, Jungkook wouldn’t really mind. After all, work made money. But if that were the case, it would have been odd for Namjoon to be so panicked about it. The man was known for being reasonably level-headed even in times of extreme stress, so perhaps it was something else entirely. 

“Did you read the news?” Namjoon quickly adds before Jungkook could ask what was wrong. At his question, Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, quickly sitting down on the side of his bed and grabbing his iPad from the same bedside desk, unplugging the charger along the way. 

“No,” he says as he types up the password into the Home Screen, laying his phone in between the juncture of his shoulder and ear. “Is there something I should be concerned about? I mean, it’s not like I got into a scandal or anything, right?”

Wrong.

Well, partly.

The moment Jungkook opens his Twitter, he’s surprised to see more notifications than usual. Of course, it was a given for him to have a ghastly amount of notifications as a celebrity. He did have a large fan base, after all. But the numbers on his screen far exceeded that of what he was used to, and amongst those notifications tagging his account, one article stood out amongst the rest, and the headline made his blood run cold.

“What the fuck?” He whispers, staring at the article in shock as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Am I seeing this right, Namjoon?”

The man on the other side of the phone is silent for a while before Jungkook hears a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes,” Namjoon says, and Jungkook can almost imagine the way he’s probably rubbing his temples together while sipping his cup of black coffee in his office out of stress and frustration

“(Y/N) is back,” he says, causing shivers to run down Jungkook’s spine. “And apparently Jungkook, she wrote a song about you.”

 The day Jungkook finally mustered up the courage to talk to you for the first time was an experience, to say the least. For what felt like years, albeit it was only a few days, Jungkook had been observing you from the sidelines, watching as you were berated by his classmates, who apparently had nothing better to do with their time. 

A part of Jungkook always felt guilty for never standing up for you. He knew you needed a friend. Someone to confide in this hellish school that made it seem as if it were every man for himself. But he was a coward, raised and molded to never take a step outside the boundaries he had set for himself, like a doll.

Although, with Mr. Park's influence, Jungkook could finally break free from his shell, even if it were just a mere few steps. 

"Here," he says nervously, handing you a carton of banana milk that he had picked up from the nearest vending machine the moment he saw you storm out of the classroom in tears. Even then, your classmates had laughed, mocking how sensitive you were, which disgusted Jungkook. Didn't they have any ounce of shame for making a person cry like that?

You look up from where you sat on the school's staircase, eyes puffy from crying so hard, a stream of tears still flowing down your face. You looked like an absolute mess, and the sight only caused Jungkook's heart to clench even more. He sat beside you, albeit a bit distanced because he couldn't help but feel awkward. This was your first conversation, after all. 

You stare at him, not entirely understanding why he would extend kindness towards you. Was this a trick of fate? Was he doing this so you would someday do his bidding in the future? The kids of this school were scary, even scarier than the monsters that hid underneath your bed or the creatures that roamed around in the dead of night. Even amidst the light, they scared you, and you were terrified that the man offering you some banana milk would be just the same. 

"You don't have to take it if you don't want to," Jungkook says, after realizing you were staring at him warily, cautious over whether or not you would accept his gift. "Sweets always cheered me up whenever I feel down, and I thought maybe it would cheer you up too!" 

If anyone were to see your interaction, they would have burst out laughing from how awkward it was. You who were wary and cautious, and Jungkook who was awkward and shy. A stark difference between your usual timid behavior and Jungkook's confident act. In fact, if anyone else were to see this, they would have never believed their eyes. 

It was odd, after all. And you knew this very well. Which was why you were so confused at Jungkook's behavior. Why was he approaching you so kindly when everyone else ridiculed and shunned you out? You were different, someone who didn't deserve to be there. An imposter, an intruder. It didn't make sense for him to act friendly. 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Jungkook continues, setting down the banana milk in the space between the two of you as he fiddled with his fingers, a habit he had picked up over time. "I'm not doing this to mock you or make fun of you later down the line… I just really don't like the way they're treating you. It's not right."

You're stunned. Rightfully so. This was the first time someone had ever gone against what others did to you, despite him doing so behind the scenes. A weird sensation bubbles up from inside you, one you can't quite place. But what you do know is that amidst it all, there's warmth. Jungkook's words sounded genuine and sincere, not like the usual condescending tone you were used to hearing from the rest of your peers. 

He genuinely seemed to care. 

Jungkook's eyes widen in surprise when he sees you grab the carton of banana milk, opening the straw in pushing it through, taking a sip. You sheepishly stare down, not even bothering to look Jungkook in the eye before muttering. "I prefer strawberry milk… but this isn't that bad... I guess… Thanks…" 

His eyes gleam, happy that you've accepted his offering and watching with a content smile as a small smile of your own forms on your lips, a far cry from the mess you were mere moments ago. He had somehow managed to cheer you up, and that was better than anything Jungkook could ever ask for. 

"No problem. Next time I'll buy you a whole box of strawberry milk!" He exclaims, excited for what was about to unfold between the two of you. 

But he would have never expected this. 

And on this week's celebrity news: Former Vocalist of The 97, (L/N) (Y/N) debuts solo with her new single 'Move On', which fans speculate is a direct message to her ex-boyfriend and former bandmate Jeon Jungkook. 

"Fuck!" Jungkook exclaims, overcome with emotion, as he watches the news unfold in the conference room of his label. He had quickly made his way over the moment he saw the headline, confused, devastated, and most of all angry. 

What in the world were you thinking, dragging him down like that?

"Jungkook, calm down," Namjoon says from the other side of the room, trying to prevent Jungkook from destroying the room. Jungkook was strong. And if he really wanted to, he could turn the whole conference room upside down in a blink of an eye, and Namjoon really didn't want to deal with whatever consequence would follow should Jungkook actually decide that he'd destroy the conference room. 

"How the fuck do you expect me to be calm, Namjoon?" Jungkook asks, exasperated as he walks from one end of the room to the other. "This is going to ruin my fucking reputation. And it's all because that bitch is too bitter about our breakup that she decided to fucking write a song about it."

"Hey." Another voice calls out, stern and ready to scold. Jaehyun, the band's bassist, glares at Jungkook with as much disdain as he could muster, not believing the words that came out of Jungkook's mouth. "No matter how you feel about the situation. I'm not going to stand by and let you call (Y/N) a bitch. She was and still is our friend. Just because you're so caught up in your perfect reputation doesn't mean you have to bring others down in the process, Jeon." 

It was rare for Jaehyun to ever call Jungkook by his last name. The two were as close as could be, having been the best of friends for more than ten years and counting. Jungkook knew he could trust Jaehyun with his life and vice versa, so it shocked him to hear that his best friend was defending her. 

"But Jungkook has every reason to be mad, Jaehyun!" Another voice pops up, this time a more feminine one that has Jungkook's heart-melting just a bit. Eunha, his current girlfriend, and the one who was there for him when you left him. She was the band's current vocalist, and Jungkook couldn't feel any more grateful to have someone as supportive as her in his life.

"She's using a personal situation to make her more popular, all the while bringing us down in the process! There's nothing else to call her but a bitch when she's hurting the band she started with! Is that how she says thank you when the band's been nothing but good to her?

It's incredible, Jungkook thinks to himself, how he was able to find someone like Eunha. She was the most compassionate and understanding person in the world, a far cry from what you had become. Bitter, selfish, and downright ungrateful. You probably wrote that song out of spite just to get back at him when he did nothing wrong in the first place. You were crazy, and he was glad Eunha allowed him to see through all of your lies. 

"Shut the fuck up, will you?" Jungkook's eyes darted in surprise to Yugyeom, the band's drummer, who had just cursed at his girlfriend. He glares at the drummer, mad at the fact that the usual happy-go-lucky man was now acting bitter in front of his girlfriend, who had done nothing wrong. Were his bandmates woven that deep within your cruel lies?

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" Eunha asks, appalled, tears forming from the corners of her eyes, which only causes the anger within Jungkook to grow. How dare they. How dare they make Eunha cry when she was doing nothing but telling the truth?

"You heard me, Eunha," Yugyeom continues, paying no mind to the burning rage that was about to burst within Jungkook. "I said shut the fuck up. So what if (Y/N) wrote a song about Jungkook? Why does it matter? She has every right to. I mean, our next single is literally a song Jungkook wrote after the breakup, so why the fuck are you berating her for doing the same?"

"Because she's hurting our reputation!" Eunha exclaims, clearly frustrated at how Yugyeom and Jaehyun weren't getting her point. "And besides, she was the one in the wrong during the breakup. What right does she have to make a song about it?"

Jaehyun scoffs, glare intensifying, causing Jungkook to clench his fist at their hostility. "And how do you know that when you only heard Jungkook's side of the story and not (Y/N) 's? For all we know, Jungkook could also be in the wro—"

Before Jaehyun could finish his sentence, Jungkook explodes, immediately rushing over to where Jaehyun sat and grabbing him by the collar, causing the rest of the band and Namjoon to panic, trying to break them apart, while Eunha watches, scared. 

"You motherfucker," Jungkook curses, hand raised into a fist, ready to punch Jaehyun in the face with all the force he could muster. But before he could do so, Namjoon and Yugyeom immediately held him back, causing Jaehyun to let out shaky breaths as he glared at Jungkook, hurt, confused, and angry. "Why are you defending her? She was the one who hurt me! You're supposed to be my fucking best friend!"

"Maybe if you actually listened to what she had to say and what she was going through, then we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Jaehyun screamed back, anger slowly growing as each moment passed by. "You've always been like this Jungkook, self-centered and fucking mean. (Y/N) was right for wanting to leave."

"What did you say, you fucki—"

"Enough!" Namjoon screams, holding his ground. This had gotten out of hand, and it was beginning to stress him out, and clearly, that same stress was spreading through every single person in the room. This wasn't even supposed to be that big of a deal. All they were supposed to do was listen to the song you wrote, and come up with a statement, So why the hell did this turn into a full-blown fight?

Gosh, Namjoon needed a raise. 

"Jeon Jungkook calm the fuck down, or I'll have you on probation, you hear? The same goes for all of you. I don't want to hear any bullshit about who's right or wrong in the relationship. All I need is for us to listen to the song and figure out what we're going to tell the higher-ups. So stop acting like you're a bunch of teenagers and sit down."

Usually, Namjoon wasn't this scary. But there was a glint in his eyes that taunted the band. And they knew that in the heat of the moment, the best thing to do was to shut up and listen. Besides, he was right. The way they were going, no progress would have been made, leading to further complications. With a huff, Jungkook sits down, staring grumpily into space. He wasn't comfortable with what had just occurred, a frenzy of emotions bottling up inside him from the outburst.

Luckily for him, Eunha was quick to hold his hand into hers, soothing him enough to calm his nerves and mentally prepare himself for what was about to unfold. Because he knew he wasn't going to like it.

And true to his words, the moment Namjoon pressed play, he didn't like it. Not one bit. 

Jungkook couldn't quite pin why your song made his blood boil and heart clench. From an outsider's perspective, it was a good song. A really good song. As a musician himself, Jungkook would never deny that. You had a knack for creating some really great tunes that were out of this world, after all. It was the very thing that made him ask you to start a band with him in the first place. 

But there was just something about this piece in particular that seemed different. Your very aura was different, Jungkook concluded as he watched the video, listening to the way you screamed about how good it was that he was able to move on while you haven't. How you laced memories and fragments of your relationship and expertly wove them together to create a masterpiece that echoed into the very depths of his beating heart. 

It left a bitter taste in his mouth. Because amidst the chaos, you looked free. 

There was something beautiful about the way you were in the middle of a room up in flames, almost to the point where Jungkook knew that it was metaphorical. You liked metaphors. Jungkook remembers how long ago, when the band was just the two of you, you mentioned how metaphors brought out the beauty of the world. They made the ordinary extraordinary. They made the dull come to life. Metaphors were beauty itself, and that's precisely why you loved to play with them so much. 

It's funny to see how that part of you hadn't changed, even after how many years. 

"Jungkook?" Eunha calls out to him, a concerned look gracing over her face. "You okay?" 

Honestly speaking, Jungkook didn't know. The high of his anger had finally settled, and all Jungkook felt was a burning numbness scouring through his veins. It's laughable how mere hours ago, Jungkook was sure that today would be another great day to celebrate how amazing his life was. Yet, here he is, in the middle of a conference room, watching as you submerged yourself underwater at the last scene of your music video, feeling empty. 

He doesn't directly answer Eunha, afraid that if he were to say anything, unwanted words would slip from his lips, and he would unleash another round of chaos and hell. And he was too mentally exhausted to go through that again. So he merely nods, clasping Eunha's hand gently and sighing as Namjoon pauses the video, turning towards the group. 

"Well," Namjoon says, surveying the room to see the band's reactions. But who was he kidding? He knew damn well that the band wasn't nearly overjoyed seeing and hearing what their old friend had to say, especially Jungkook. The poor kid looked lost. "That's that. It looks too vague to be considered a song catered to Jungkook, so I'll inform the higher-ups that it has nothing to do wi--"

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, causing a deafening silence to befall once more as everyone watches him with cautious eyes, afraid of what he was about to do. 

"I'm going to get a drink," is all he says, moving to head out the door. No one really says anything in protest, Yugyeom and Jaehyun still feeling the aftermath of the previous fight. Only Eunha seemed to be visibly bothered, scoffing at the rest of the team's reactions before quickly latching on to Jungkook's arm. 

"Babe, it's still early in the morning. At least let me accompany you?" She asks, that hopeful glint burning brightly in her eyes, to the point that it makes Jaehyun recline back in his seat uncomfortably, not liking the way she seemed so unnatural. You were never like that. And while Jaehyun knew it was wrong to make comparisons, he couldn't help it. 

You were his best friend just as much as Jungkook was. 

"I'll go alone," is all Jungkook whispers, shrugging Eunha off who is about to protest, but Namjoon is quick to shut her up with a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking his head when she tries to chase after him. Jungkook needed to settle down and sort his thoughts through if he ever wanted a chance at getting through this situation with you. 

And maybe, just maybe, he could finally make amends. 

“Do you have a dream?”

This was the question that started it all, Jungkook supposed. He remembers the very day you asked him that one decisive question that, looking back, changed both of your lives. For good or for worse, Jungkook wasn’t sure. But as he reminisces the memories of the past and tries to figure out where everything went wrong, he couldn’t help the gut-wrenching feeling that settles within him. It’s so upsetting, in fact, that the moment Jungkook arrives in the pub across the street, he immediately drowns himself in a bottle of soju. 

The two of you were spending the lunch break in the empty stairwell, the same place where the two of you first met and the same place where the two of you gradually started to hang out. It was a quiet space, free from the condescending eyes of the perfection-seeking kids you called classmates. It was a space where you and Jungkook could be free, even for just a little while. 

Sipping on his banana milk, Jungkook looks at you curiously. You were staring at the strawberry milk he had bought you, fiddling with it nervously, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He wonders what goes on through your mind, what thoughts dance around within its hollow crevices, shaking you up and causing you to become a nervous wreck. Especially when the question wasn’t as bad as you were probably thinking. 

“Hmm, do you want the honest answer or the answer everyone wants to hear?” He asks back, looking up at the ceiling. For an elite school, they didn’t do well to maintain the more hidden areas. Was that a sign that they really didn’t care about things that weren’t relevant to them? Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn’t particularly care. It was just more bearable t stare at the ceiling than sit in awkward silence, 

“Honest,” you say after a few moments, much more confident than a few moments ago. After hanging out with you for a few months and observing you within the silence of your conversations, Jungkook somehow knows that no matter what he’d do, you would forever be shy. Regardless if you knew someone well or not, the first moments of conversation would always be parallel to a first meeting. It was a curious thing, honestly. But it was more intriguing once he realized that your confidence grew the more you spoke. 

In a way, it was kind of cute. 

“I wanna make music,” Jungkook says after snapping himself out of his trance. He once again averts his gaze from yours, but this time it wasn’t to avoid silence, but rather to think, to immerse himself in his thoughts. Because this was the first time, someone had asked him what he truly wanted to do with life. The first time someone wanted an honest answer from him, not a polished response set up to please his parents and peers. 

“Not the classical kind, though,” he continues, smiling softly to himself. “Not really fond of it as much as you think.” From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook can see you gaping at him in surprise, and it causes him to chuckle. You were never really expressive beyond the weary walls of the seemingly abandoned stairwell. To the rest of the student body, you were expressionless. Someone who took all the beatings and ridicules with a blank face. As if you were a doll, waiting to be ruined. 

But here, you were much more alive. Much more expressive than Jungkook was used to seeing. It was as if the (Y/N) beyond the worn steps of the stairwell was an entirely different person. A mask you placed upon yourself to protect your heart from the cruel reality you had come to face. And Jungkook was more than fascinated at the fact that you had brought that mask down for him. 

“If I could, I’d do rock, maybe even some metal If I got enough courage,” he continues, smiling to himself unknowingly giddy at the sight of you. “There’s just something different about it, you know? The music runs through your system and gets you all hyped up; you just can’t resist it. And when the beat drops, it’s as if your emotions are on an all-time high, and it weirdly makes you kind of free. It made me realize that this was what music was supposed to be, I guess.”

“Wow,” you mutter, after staying within the silence of your initial awe. “That’s... poetic.” Jungkook laughs at the look of disbelief in his face, shooting his empty carton of banana milk in the air and watching in satisfaction as it lands straight into the empty trash can just right down the corner before turning to you, a grin high on his lips. 

“Oh, come on,” he whines, rolling his eyes playfully. “Why do you sound so surprised? Do I not look like I’d be a good musician?”

“It’s not that!” You quickly exclaim in your defense, flailing your arms in the air to avert Jungkook’s thoughts about the situation. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook was only joking, highly amused at your reactions, wanting to see more. “I just assumed you’d be more into sports, you know, since you’re so good at it? If you ask me, you kind of look like you’d do well in either football or basketball… so I just kind of assumed that was what you wanted to actually pursue. Not that wanting to pursue music is a bad thing! It’s great, it’s just that rock is kind of unexpected....” 

You were beginning to ramble at this point, the shy sheep from within you bursting forth as you fiddled with your thumbs nervously, anxious to see Jungkook’s reaction. Would he be mad at you for assuming things about him off the bat? Probably not, right? You did initiate the conversation by asking him what his dream was, after all. Wait, maybe this was your fault. Gosh, you should have just asked any other question that wasn’t as deep. 

This friendship thing was too difficult for your liking. 

As you bury yourself in your thoughts, Jungkook couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. It was small at first, almost going unheard by you who was so deeply consumed by the matters of your mind, but the more Jungkook laughed, the louder he got until he was full-on cackling, much to your dismay, confusion, and shock. 

“What’s so funny?” You ask frantically, trying to make sense of his actions. Did you say something wrong? As far as you knew, you hadn’t, but what if you had and accidentally crossed the line? You hoped not. You really didn’t want to screw any chance you had at having a real, genuine friend. But to your dismay, your questions remain unanswered as Jungkook continues to laugh, almost as if he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, pouting. “Stop laughing at me, Jungkook!”

“I-i’m sorry,” He says after a few more laughs, trying to wipe the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes. “I couldn’t help it,” He laughs again, although this time, it seems as if he’s calmed down, sporting a cheeky smile. “Your reactions are just something else!”

Jungkook watches as you become flustered, once more, much to his fascination and amusement. He’s never been the teasing type, or more like, he’s never had the opportunity to become the teasing type, especially with the perfect image he had to curate in front of his peers. But he liked this. He liked being friends with you. It made him all the more free. 

“What about you?” He suddenly asks after a while, feeling that it was high time to cut you some slack. You look up at him in confusion as if you had entirely forgotten why this entire conversation had happened in the first place. “Do you have a dream?”

It’s silent, yet this time, Jungkook notes, the silence is uncanny. It’s not the same comfortable silence that Jungkook is used to whenever he was hanging out with you. It was as if the silence had suddenly crashed down and enveloped the cheery atmosphere in its deceitful arms. A trap, if you will. 

And Jungkook was unsure whether he wanted to break free from it or stay there with you. 

But you take the first step, finally looking up to meet him in the eyes, and Jungkook can feel his heart sink just a tad bit from how empty and solemn they were. “I don’t think so,” is all you say, brushing off the concerned look on Jungkook’s face with a smile. “I’ve never really given it much thought. That’s why I asked,” you chuckle halfheartedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Although I think it would be nice,” you say, smiling a bit more genuinely. “You know, to have a dream?”

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. How was he supposed to react to that, anyway? No matter how difficult his life was, he had always had a dream. It kept him going, made him push through no matter the difficulty. Dreams were the driving force of life. The hope amidst the darkness. To not have a dream, even just a small one, rattled Jungkook. 

It terrified him because now Jungkook realized that he knew nothing about you despite you being his first friend. He didn’t know the reason why you decided to become a living doll in the eyes of others. He didn’t understand why you subjected yourself to such suffering when, from the small talks you and Jungkook had with each other, you seemed to have a loving family. 

He wanted to help you, to be there for you. Because he wasn’t sure whether or not you were actually feeling lost. That’s what friends were for, right? Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure on how to do this whole friendship thing, but if there was one thing he did know, it was the fact that friends helped each other. 

And Jungkook would be damned if he couldn’t help you in any way that he could.

Soju bottles littered the lone table that Jungkook sat upon. At this point, he wasn’t sure how many bottles he had drunk, but it sure was many, more than he could handle if he were, to be honest, but amidst his drunken state, he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

Why was he acting like this anyway? 

He was supposed to be happy. His band was one of the most successful ones out there. He had thousands, if not millions of fans, who supported him in everything he did. So why, just why was this insignificant matter affecting him so greatly?

Was it because it was you?

“Dear, are you alright?” The old woman, running the pub asks, concerned as she sets down a piping hot bowl of warm hangover soup, which has Jungkook’s mouth watering to the point where drool almost seeps out, mainly because he only had a bite of a sandwich on his way to the office which Eunha forcibly made him eat. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to eat, especially with the array of emotions that were burning deep within him. “Do you need me to call someone for you?”

Jungkook stays silent, not even bothering to respond to the old lady, who only grows wearier at the lack of response. He didn’t mean to be rude. It was just that he couldn’t find the strength to actually do anything but wallow in his own misery. His thoughts were going on haywire, with no place to land in sight. 

What had he done to deserve this? He was sure he had done nothing wrong, so why were you doing this to him when all he had done was, be nothing but nice to you? He had supported you ever since the beginning, and this was how you repaid him?

He doesn’t notice how the old lady leaves to call someone from the company, despite him not saying anything. It was probably for the best anyway. He was too out of it to even ask for help. The old lady was right and kind for going out of her way to do this for him. Although it made sense, after all, this specific pub was where Jungkook had been drinking ever since he had reached adulthood. 

Maybe she would call Namjoon? It was likely, but Jungkook hoped not. He was sure that if Namjoon were to see his sorry state, he would scold him until his ears bled out. Although he couldn’t really blame Namjoon, if any manager were to see their client drinking away their woes like he was, they would probably freak out. Primarily since he was known for drinking at most two bottles. Jungkook just really didn’t want to deal with Namjoon right now, especially after what had transpired earlier. 

He hoped that she would call Eunha. Sweet, loveable Eunha, who was there for him when the shitshow that was his breakup with you went down. Even until now, Jungkook was still in the dark of why you had left him and the band, but Eunha was the one who stayed by his side. Ever since he had met her two years ago when she first entered the company, they had become the best of friends. And now she was his girlfriend, and he couldn’t be happier. 

All of a sudden, a familiar voice wafts through the empty pub. One that has Jungkook’s head whipping everywhere it could to figure out where it was coming from. It was sweet, melodic even. But at the same time, it had a hint of melancholy and freedom? Why was the voice so familiar? Where had he heard it before? 

Jungkook’s eyes darted around, trying to see if he could spot the culprit behind his dilemma until they finally landed on the wide TV that sat in the middle of the pub, presumably for their customer’s enjoyment. And lo and behold, in his eyes, he sees you. 

It was a local music show where famous stars would often find themselves performing to promote their new music. He assumed you were there to perform your new single, the one song that had him sitting here broken and destroyed with pride in your chest. Did you enjoy this?

Did you enjoy knowing that he was broken because of you?

He hated it. He hated how bright your smile was the moment he caught sight of the camera focusing on you as the hosts began their interview. You were brilliant, cheery, happy. And it sickened Jungkook to the core. Why did it seem like you were doing fine when he was here all bothered? How selfish could you possibly be? 

But as much as it hurts him, he can’t find it in himself to look away. It’s a strange sensation that Jungkook couldn’t quite explain. Why couldn’t he avert his eyes from you when all he’s been feeling today was pain? It didn’t make sense. But honestly, Jungkook couldn’t tell what made sense anymore. 

He watches you sing, hearing those blasted lyrics that made him rage just mere moments ago. Yet, this time, the lyrics made his heart clench. Perhaps it was the fact that your performance seemed more genuine because you were singing live. But why? Why were you singing those lyrics as if they had genuinely happened to you? Jungkook never caused you any pain, so why did it seem as if you were hurting more than him? 

The thoughts were too much. It was driving Jungkook crazy, and all he wanted to do was drown in them. He didn’t want to think. Thinking heightened the pain that brimmed deep within his chest. He just wanted to float in the ocean of his misery and stay there, hoping that someday he would land ashore and the pain would come to an end. 

Maybe if he took one more shot, it would help? 

He pours down the last remaining soju into his shot glass, not caring if it overflowed and spilled out on the table. Rationality was far out of his mind at this point. All Jungkook wanted to do was do anything that would make him feel numb. 

He raises the glass shakily, ready to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol run down his throat, that temporary relief that made him sink deep down into this endless cycle of emptiness. Yet, it doesn’t happen. 

A hand shoots down to stop his wrist. It’s a familiar yet unfamiliar hold, something Jungkook can’t quite place. Where has he felt this hold before? He looks up, his eyesight a bit blurry from his drunken state, so he squints, trying to see clearly. 

Who was it? Namjoon? Eunha? Heck, Jaehyun?

Turns out it was none of them. 

When his sight finally clears, he gasps in shock, breath hitching in his throat as he takes it all in. Because the person, whose hold was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, wasn’t his manager, nor was it his girlfriend or best friend. 

It was you. 

The person, the old lady, had called to get him was you. 

Well, Jungkook be damned. 

When you got the call from the old lady, you were on your way to your new studio after finishing up a schedule you had prior. The past few weeks have been busy for you. Leaving the band and Jungkook was no easy feat. It was a decision that you knew was a high-risk, high reward yet at the same time had higher chances of failure. 

After all, even if you hated to admit it. Without the band, you had nothing. 

Sure, there was the fame that came with all of the band’s success. You were the vocalist, after all. It was exhilarating knowing that millions out there would be listening to your voice, singing music you created with people you loved dearly. But in the midst of all of that, there was nothing. 

Jungkook, Jaehyun, and Yugyeom had everything going on for them. A backup plan in case the band didn’t succeed. A plan B, if you will. It made sense. They had privilege dripping from the palms of their hand, after all. Even if they had their own troubles and doubts, they didn’t have to worry about finding another way out because there already was a path laid out for them in the beginning. 

You went into all of this, risking everything. 

It was a choice that you had seemingly made on impulse if an outsider were to look back at the situation. When Jungkook had asked you to start a band with him, it was during another one of your many lunch dates, as you two had jokingly called it. Only this time, the two of you weren’t sitting on the cold and empty stairwell, but instead, you were in the old music room. 

“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook mumbles to himself as he cranks the rusted door of the old music room open. People barely used it nowadays, much to his disbelief yet relief at the same time. He couldn’t blame them though, the brand new music room was much more enchanting, filled with top-of-the-grade musical instruments than anyone would drool over. 

Well, at least it meant that he could have autonomy over the room (even though that wasn’t really the case). “You’re telling me that you never heard rock or metal before?” He gapes in disbelief as he sits on one of the dusty desks, looking at you with an outraged expression. You sheepishly enter behind him, taking a sip of your drink as you took a seat beside him. 

“You never asked,” is all you say, shrugging. Jungkook looks at you once more incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes and ears. “That’s because I assumed you would have known what rock and metal are! They’re like the greatest music genres of all time. How can you not know it?”

You shrug once more, not really having an answer. Well, you did, but it was probably stupid. After all, if this was his reaction to you not knowing about rock and metal. What would his response be if he were to find out that the only music you’d ever listened to was classical and nursery rhymes? Yeah, probably not a good idea. 

“Well, get ready then,” he exclaims, bringing out his phone, much to your surprise. Model student and Mr. Perfect Jeon Jungkook breaking a school rule? Who would have thought that you’d ever lived to see the day? “Because you’re about to experience an awakening, I tell you. A revolution!”

It’s amusing, really. You had never seen Jungkook as passionate as he was at the moment. Was this what it was like to have a dream? His eyes lit up as if sparkles were floating around him. As if he were about to step on cloud nine and enter paradise. He was bouncing his leg lightly in excitement, a goofy smile on his face that kind of reminded you of a bunny. 

Maybe having a dream wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

He immediately scoots over to you once he has his phone ready, grabbing his earphones and plugging it into his phone, handing you the other ear. You hold it, a small smile on your face, and hook it unto your ear, not really knowing what to expect but excited all the same. After all, this was the music that made your best friend passionate and hopeful for the future. For sure, it wouldn’t be bad, right? 

Well, to say the least, it was an experience. An experience you couldn’t quite tell if you enjoyed or couldn’t fathom. It was entirely different from the music that you were used to. From the bright and soothing tones came ones that were heavy and thundered on your ears. Yet, in a way, it was exhilarating. 

You could see why Jungkook was attracted to this style of music. In a way, it was unhinged, a little more rebellious than the traditional types of music you were used to. But that didn’t mean it was worse. In fact, that’s what made it more exciting. Jungkook was right. In those few minutes that he had introduced you to the world of rock, you’ve gone through an array of emotions, from confusion to thrill and excitement of the highest level. The rollercoaster of new sensations was, to say the least, intoxicating, 

Because immediately you got hooked. 

“Wow,” you mutter, looking up at Jungkook, who was looking back at you with lively eyes. “That was… something else.” 

“Right?!” He exclaims, immediately jumping off the desk to grasp your hands in excitement; it was endearing to see. Jungkook rarely got riled up like this. Music truly brought out the best in him, you thought to yourself, watching as he continued to dangle your hands in his. “Isn’t rock just amazing? Oh, what I’d do to pick up an electric guitar and play,” He sighs, and you can tell from the far-away look on his face that he’s daydreaming about something and the sight warms your heart. 

“You should,” is all you say, startling Jungkook out of his trance. “I think you’d do absolutely great in music, Jungkook! You should go for it.” Jungkook looks at you, stunned. He blinks, trying to process what you had just said, before clasping your fingers a bit tighter, unsure of himself. 

“Really?” He mutters softly, “You really think I can do it?”

“Of course,” you encourage with a bright smile. “If it’s you, then you can do anything!”

It’s silent for a moment, with Jungkook deep in thought. But you don’t necessarily mind, as more than anything, you understood the weight of your words. Being Jungkook’s friend meant that you stuck by him through a lot of undesirable moments, moments that both of you promised to never speak of unless it was absolutely necessary. 

You knew how much he longed for his dreams. Ever since that rather inspiring conversation you had around a week ago, you knew just how much Jungkook bottled up his true passions and desires, even though there were moments wherein he would freely let them out. 

“Then you have to be there with me,” he says, eyes filled with determination. “I don’t think I can do this without you (Y/N).”

Looking back at it, you chuckle at how swooned you were with Jungkook’s words. It was crazy to think that he had swept you off your feet with a mere ten words that ultimately decided the course of a good chunk of your life. You let him, and for that, you were to blame, But that didn’t necessarily mean that you regretted your decision in its entirety. 

Suddenly, your phone rings from beside you, and you grab it from where it lay in your purse, only to see an old number that you hadn’t seen in a while. It’s been a year, you think, as you accept the call, pressing your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“(Y/N) dear! It’s been such a long time!” You smile at the cheery sound present within the old lady’s voice, although you can’t deny that you hear a twinge of worry within it. You used to go to her pub every so often back when you were still in the band. And the old lady had been such a sweet soul, acting as some sort of parental figure to you and your bandmates through the years. 

“It’s good to hear from you again,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised at her sudden call but also a bit suspicious because you had no idea what she was calling for. “May I ask why you’re calling me?”

“Ah!” The old lady exclaims, and suddenly the initial chirp present within her fades into a frantic tone that has your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, not sure what to expect. “Do you mind picking up your boyfriend?”

You blink, confused and startled. “I’m sorry,” you say, still not processing it clearly. “What was that?”

You hear a sigh from the other side of the phone. It sounds tiring, exasperated even, Which shouldn’t be the case since the pub usually opens up later at night. It was only open during the day for company employees. And what sane person would cause trouble with this much sunlight out? 

“Your boyfriend dear,” the old lady continues, sounding absolutely done, yet at the same time, the concern was still there, and you swear you hear the sound of glass falling in the back, causing your eyebrows to furrow in worry. “He’s been drinking for hours, and this is more than he’s ever drunk!”

You stay silent, letting it all sink in. The only person she could have possibly been referring to was Jungkook. There was no doubt about that. After all, the old lady’s pub was where you and Jungkook would often find yourselves having late-night rendezvous, drinking the night away as you bonded over whatever life was throwing at you within those moments. 

But now, the pub gave you nothing but pain. 

“Grandma, I’m sorry to tell you this, but me and Jungkook aren’t—”

“—So you’ll come, yes? Thank you, dear! Truly a lifesaver!” 

She hangs up. You stare at your phone in disbelief, shocked at the predicament you had unknowingly gotten yourself into. What were you supposed to do now? The responsible thing to do was to probably phone Namjoon and tell him about the situation. But with what had just transpired earlier today with the release of your single last night and your performance this morning, you’re not so sure he would appreciate any sort of contact from you. 

With a sigh, you turn to head towards the pub. No matter how much you hated Jungkook for the way he treated you within the last few stages of your relationship, you couldn’t leave him alone to wallow in his misery (even though there was a part of you that was secretly glad that he was torn because of you). It would be too cruel of you. Especially considering that Jungkook had been a significant part of your life. 

Huh, guess you haven’t moved on as much as you thought you had. 

Even just reaching the pub brought back memories that you wish wouldn’t resurface. You and Jungkook used to wrestle over who would open the door for the other, and more often than not, Jungkook won. But you weren’t one to lose quickly, even to him. 

The familiar jingle that came with opening the door brought a pang of nostalgia to your heart. When you and Jungkook would enter the pub, just ten seconds after the jingle faded away, the old lady would come out of her quaint kitchen and say

“Welcome home— Oh, there you are, dear!”

Not exactly how you remembered it, but it was still familiar all the same. 

“Hello grandma, how are you?” You greet with a solemn smile, watching with fond eyes as the old lady comes up to clasp your hands within her own. “Oh dear, I haven’t seen you in forever. Why haven’t you visited in so long?” 

You’re not sure what to say. How are you supposed to tell her that you left and broke up with the man she asked you to pick up? That would put her in an awkward position, and you didn’t want to cause stress for the already weary lady. 

“Oh, never mind that,” she says, luckily dropping the subject. “Come in, come in, your boyfriend’s over there drinking in the corner. Did something happen? I’ve honestly never seen him drink this much before. At this rate, he’s going to finish my soju supply before I open up for the night!” 

You enter the main area, and immediately you’re hit with the familiar, comforting scent of alcohol and home-cooked meals, as odd as it sounds. Although the smell of alcohol was by far heavier in the air, and as you turn to look for the source, your eyes land in Jungkook.

And you’re, for lack of a better word, shocked.

It was almost as if he was drowning in an ocean of soju bottles, with some of the alcohol dripping off the table and into the ground or his clothes. Partly because he was pouring himself another shot, which you know he can’t take.

He could barely handle two bottles when the two of you were dating, so why did it feel like he was drinking more than ten. If he wasn’t stopped now, something majorly damaging could happen to him, and as much as you never wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t just ignore him when he was literally on the brink of life and death.

You stomp on over to where he’s at, hastily quickening your steps as he’s about to down his last shot, and before you can even think about what to do, your instincts act on their own, and your hand reaches out to him, stopping him.

No words are spoken. Rather, you can’t find the words to say as you watch with solemn eyes as Jungkook looks at his hand confused. He tries to shake it, to move his arm so he can bring the shot glass to his lips, but you remain firm in your grip, clasping just a bit harder so he wouldn’t push through with the shot. 

He looks around, following the trail left by your grasp until he meets your eyes, and already you can feel the whirlwind of emotions bubbling up inside you. This was the first time you and Jungkook have met after the breakup after leaving the band. You never expected the two of you to meet this way. Although, you supposed life was funny like that. It liked to throw unexpected situations in your face, especially in the most inappropriate times.

You watch as he squints, trying to make sense of who you were before he gasps, arm slacking, falling into the side as the alcohol from the shot glass splatters into the air. He squints once more as if trying to ensure that what he was seeing in front of him was real before stammering. 

“(Y/N)?” He whispers, broken, voice breaking. You try not to let your emotions show, knowing that if you do, he’d only lure you back into him, which was something you did not want at all. You were done. After many months, heck years of being torn apart by him, you couldn’t afford any more pain. It would break you even more than it already did, 

“Hey,” you whisper back, breath hitching as you watch the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sound of your voice, loud and clear for him to hear. Even with his drunken state, he can’t deny the pang of nostalgia that runs through his veins once he finally registers that it’s you standing before him. In the flesh. Not a vision on TV or a picture of you from his memories. 

It was you. 

“What are you doing here?” He slurs, trying to reach out to you, but you move away, refusing him any form of affection. Because you two were too far gone for that. 

“Grandma called,” is all you say, the disappointed look in Jungkook’s eyes not going unnoticed. “Asked me to pick you up. Said you’ve been drinking more than you used to and… I can see that.”

You gesture to the empty soju bottles that littered the table with a grimace, turning back to Jungkook only to hear him scoff and point a finger to you accusingly, although with his drunken state, his posture was way off. “Who do you think’s to blame?” He asks, sarcasm laced within his tone. You raise an eyebrow at that, choosing to let him continue before you could offer back any sarcastic remark of your own. 

“It’s you!” He continues, slamming his fist to the table, much to your surprise. “You and your stupid fucking song…. I mean, what the fuck is up that?”

“What the fuck is up with what, Jungkook?” You quip back, eyeing his fist cautiously in the case he would do something dangerous that would either injure him, you, or if worse comes to worst, both. 

“Don’t play dumb with me,” He continues, and Jungkook can feel the irritation, frustration, and fatigue build within him now that he’s finally gotten a chance to let all these raging emotions out. “You know what you did! Why’d you do it, huh?” His voice grows louder, causing you to flinch as you move your chair back just a bit. 

“Why’d you have to ruin my fucking reputation?” 

All of a sudden, it’s like something in you snaps. 

You can’t believe it. You can’t believe the audacity Jungkook had to say something as outrageous and stupid as what he just said. The emotions that were already burning up within you finally exploded as you stared at him with all the anger and disbelief you could muster. 

And here you thought he was drinking because he had finally realized all the wrongs he had done to you. What a fool you were. 

“Excuse me?” You say, exasperated. “What did you just fucking say?”

“I said what I said (Y/N),” Jungkook continued, not noticing the way rage was about to take you into its waiting arms, only to allow you to explode upon him with all the pent-up hurt that you’ve accumulated inside you. “You and your fucking song ruined the band any my reputation. Is this how you repay me after everything I’ve done for you?”

You blink. The words slowly make their way towards you as you try to process them, letting out a chuckle at how ridiculous his words were. “Are you being serious right now?” You say, scoffing at how there wasn’t an inch of regret on Jungkook’s face. “You’ve got to be joking, right?”

You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You want to give him a chance to prove your ears, mind, and heart wrong. That he wasn’t actually thinking those absurd thoughts that had your gut-wrenching and your heartbreaking after already being broken. This couldn’t be the Jungkook that you knew, right? He wouldn’t be this cruel, right? 

“Do I look like I’m joking?” 

“You piece of shit.” You spat without even realizing it, surprising Jungkook. He’s sobered up just a little from your outburst, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, you regret speaking without any thought. But the more you try to rationalize it, the more the anger burns. This was unacceptable. 

“Reputation?” You scoff, looking at him incredulously. “You’re fucking worried about your reputation when there are bigger issues to be addressed here?” 

“(Y/N) I—”

“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say, cutting him off coldly. “You don’t get a say in this when all you’re worried about is your reputation over a broken relationship with someone you’ve grown up with for the past thirteen years!” 

Wide-eyed, Jungkook gapes at you, and you, in your disgruntled state, take this chance to get back at him, unleashing all the feelings you’ve buried deep inside you. 

“You dare ask me why I’m treating you this way when you’ve been nothing but nice to me?” You mock, his words hurting more than they should. “Do you even bother to ask yourself as to why I broke up with you in the first place, Jungkook? Why I left? Did you even bother to listen to my song?” 

His silence echoes throughout the pub, further shattering any lingering hope that you had about the situation. “No,” he says after a while, firm in his belief as he stared back at you, although his gaze seemed as if it could easily water away. “Didn’t think it was necessary; after all I did nothing wro—”

“—You treated me like shit for the last two years of our relationship, Jungkook. That’s what you did wrong.” You exclaim, not wanting to hear his excuses. “Are you really this blind to not know? To not see your own faults?”

How could he? You think to yourself, the unbearable pain of this revelation thrumming through every fibre of your being. It was painful. Painful to hear that he hadn’t even thought about the situation through your lens. He was too absorbed with what he had going for himself that he failed to see the world through your eyes, and it frustrated you to no end.

Because that breakup broke you like no other. 

Choosing to leave wasn’t an easy decision, by no means. You had risked everything to help support Jungkook in hopes that you would find a dream of your own. You joined the band, knowing that you would put your family’s safety and security at risk instead of pursuing a more stable career like starting a business or becoming a doctor.

You became selfish to follow Jungkook, so of course, you were attached. 

Jungkook, in a sense, was your world. You suppose, looking back at it now, that wasn’t the healthiest decision you took for yourself. But at that time, you could not help yourself. He was your first friend, your first love, your first everything. Jungkook showed you the ways of the world and then shattered it without a care. Of course, more than any other breakup, it would tear you apart.

Because to be honest, loving Jungkook made you happy. You remember when he first asked you out. Probably one of the best moments of your entire life. It happened after your band’s first major gig to open up the local summer festival. The two of you were still calming down from the high of the performance, excited, thrilled to have finally been given the opportunity in front of a bigger crowd. It felt surreal seeing the fascinated faces and happy smiles as they listen to your music.

Jungkook was right. This feeling was incredible.

“Holy shit. That was amazing,” Jaehyun laughs, hugging Yugyeom before turning to hug you and Jungkook. “I can’t believe we just did that!” 

“Do you think they liked us?” Yugyeom, ever the timid one asks. “I felt like I made a mistake somewhere along the second cho—“

“—Who cares, man?” Jungkook says, cutting Yugyeom off with a playful slap to the back. “We just fucking performed our first major gig. This isn’t time to be wallowing down on our mistakes. This is a time to celebrate!” 

You and Jaehyun hollered in agreement, following Jungkook as he dragged Yugyeom backstage where the four of you packed up, took a few commemorative pictures, and made your way towards the nearest convenience store to celebrate the night with some good old ramen, ice cream, and whatever your hearts desired.

It was a fun night, one filled with laughter as the four of you joked about whatever your mind could think of. Jungkook boasted about how he was right about their band getting somewhere, of how Jaehyun and Yugyeom, who were much more hesitant in joining the band, and after months of no progress, we’re beginning to regret it, had nothing to worry about. 

Jaehyun and Yugyeom even mustered up the courage to do a speed eating challenge, grabbing about her round of hot piping ramen and racing to see who could eat it the fastest, despite the heat burning their tongues both literally and figuratively.

It was a night where for once, the four of you didn’t have to worry about life outside of the band. Didn’t have to worry about the social pressure from school or home, Didn’t have to worry about stupid tests or becoming the best, for once the four of you could just be yourselves. Unapologetic and free.

When Jaehyun and Yugyeom decided to pack it up and head home, saying that if they didn’t arrive before their dreaded curfew, then their parents would literally send them to the pits of hell, you didn’t notice the way Jungkook grew silent. Maybe you did, but you were too preoccupied with the nauseated looks on Jaehyun and Yugyeom’s faces as they headed towards the public restroom to flush out the ramen in their system. 

“Hey (Y/N)?” Jungkook asks once Jaehyun and Yugyeom are nowhere to be seen. You hum in response, turning to look back at him, and immediately your eyes become overwhelmed with worry at the serious look on his face as he gazes up at the night sky, seemingly nervous and scared.

“Will you go out with me?”

It’s unexpected, a bomb to your heart if you could call it. You gasp the moment the words flow out of his mouth, staring at Jungkook in shock. Did he really just ask you out? 

You think it’s a joke. A cruel trick of nature. But by the way, Jungkook nervously fidgets from where he sits, and his eyes nervously dart around. Like they usually do during nerve-wracking situations like these, you knew in your heart that his words were true.

And you couldn’t be more overjoyed because you had fallen for Jeon Jungkook too. 

Throughout your many years of friendship, you had gotten to know Jungkook inside out. You were there when he threw a mini tantrum over missing first place in the final exam by one point, knowing that his parents would be disappointed in him. You were there when the two of you went out to buy his first-ever electric guitar after months of saving up money secretly. You were there for him when he was convincing Jaehyun and Yugyeom to join the band, even when he was about to get into a fight with Jaehyun over the matter.

And like clockwork, you had fallen.

It wasn’t particularly hard to do so. Jungkook had this certain charm to him, after all. He was an enigma. He could draw people into his rhythm like it was nothing and have them follow to the beat of his own drum. Sometimes you wondered if there was a hidden secret with the way he could so easily attract people, but the more you hung out, the more you realized that wasn’t the case at all. He was genuine in everything he did.

“Yes,” you say without hesitation, causing Jungkook to whip his head to face you in the blink of an eye, mouth slacking in shock. He blinks, you smile, and suddenly a smile of his own is forming on his face, reaching all the way into his eyes. 

“For real?” He whispers, not wanting this moment to slip away from his grasp. He was so close to having you in his arms, something he’s wanted for the longest time, that he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, he would ruin any chance he got. But your reassuring gaze and gentle hold immediately calm the raging wave of anxiety within him. “For real,” you affirm, and suddenly you’re in Jungkook’s embrace. 

It’s a warm embrace, one that has you returning it back with the same vigor, the same excitement bubbling in your chest. This marked the beginning of a new chapter for you and Jungkook, one where the two of you would walk down the unclear path you have chosen, still remaining by each other’s side, but this time, with hands intertwined.

You just wished it didn’t go up into flames like this.

You blink, snapping out of your trance as you gaze at Jungkook. Once more, seeing the way his lips were pursed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he had a lot going on through his mind. Which was only fitting. He had to, or else this wave of hurt and pain would only intensify and turn into something you would never be able to control. 

Remembering the happy moments was something you had promised yourself not to do, for it only brought you into another world of pain after looking at how the two of you were faring now. But in the midst of agony staring right at you, you couldn’t help but let yourself reminisce in hopes of relieving some of that anger and hurt so you wouldn’t do anything out of hand. 

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you finally say after a moment of silence, and you want to curse yourself for the way your voice cracks at the end. You had to be strong. You had to get through this. Because there was no way, you were going to let Jungkook ruin you once more. “How do you think our relationship was going within the last two years?”

Silence befalls the room for what feels like the millionth time, But this one is heavier than the last. Jungkook looks at you with such a severe gaze that you almost falter, forgetting the fact that he’s drunk with the way his eyes bore into yours. 

You dread his answer, not knowing what to expect. With the way, he was acting, and with all the things he’s said and done, you knew that his words would only hurt you even more from here on out. You clutch the fanfic of your sweater tightly, hanging on by a thread. 

But he says nothing.

The heavy silence lasts longer, and the more it persists, the more disappointment and disbelief creep into the cracked crevices of your already broken heart. Was he really going to act this way? Saying nothing at all? Did your relationship mean nothing to him in the past 2 years? 

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, letting out a scoff as your eyes scan his figure. He’s hunched up as if unsure of what to do, what to think, or what to say. There’s probably a flurry of emotions running through his mind, but you don’t pity him. You hope it continues to weigh heavy, as it did to you for the last three years. 

“I was miserable, Jungkook,” you whisper, recounting the memories you had buried deep within, afraid to open them up again at the cost of your already fragile happiness. But to be truly happy, one needs to let go of all the agony locked within. “Ever since Eunha came into our lives, you started treating me like a side character, as if I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

“And no,” you say sternly, already knowing what Jungkook was to say by the way his eyes widened and his mouth slacked, an arm up in protest for your words. “I’m not blaming Eunha entirely, contrary to what you may think. Sure, her arrival started it all. Sure, there were times where she acted so out of line that I wanted to slap her in the face n’s remind her who exactly she was talking to. But I couldn’t. Do you know why, Jungkook?” 

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you take a deep breath as you gather your thoughts. This was the first time you were finally going to let out all of your frustrations that’s been building up inside you for the past few years. It was a nerve-wracking feat, but a necessary one nonetheless, as even in those few moments of speaking, you were starting to feel just a bit more free. 

“Because I didn’t even know who I was anymore.”

Jungkook’s never been this confused in his life. 

It’s as if you had dropped a bomb on him without warning, causing him to be in a frenzy. What did you mean? How could you blame Eunha? Eunha was a sweet girl who could do no wrong. She was there for him whenever he needed that extra support, whenever he needed someone to ground him in this cruel, unforgiving world. 

She was there when you weren’t and was a constant in his life. How could such a sweet girl like her be the catalyst of this catastrophic situation? It had to be a joke.

“You’re lying,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. The pain in his heart was coming back again, and just when he thought he had finally gotten rid of that after drowning in alcohol moments ago. This was your fault. You and your stupid song, your stupid lies. You were driving me crazy.

“I’m lying?” You ask, and Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes, feeling another burst of pain shoot through him at the agonizing expression on your face. Why did you look so hurt? He did nothing wrong. He didn’t hurt you. He couldn’t have. He had always been there for you. He was the reason you could do what you could in the first place. There was just no way that misery was because of him.

“Jungkook, did you even realize that with how much time you were spending with Eunha, you weren’t spending time with me anymore? Remember how you used to walk me home at midnight after your time at the studio and my radio show? You stopped doing that ever since she appeared.”

Lies.

“For days, I stood outside the company for hours, waiting for you to bring me home because you promised that you’d never miss it for the world. And on the day that I finally decided to check up on you, worried that you might have been overworking yourself? I see you in the studio, laughing with Eunha.”

 Jungkook wanted to scream. He was stressed. He had to make music. Why couldn’t you understand that? 

“And when I confronted you about it? You shrugged me off, saying I was overly dramatic.”

You are. Jungkook insists in his head, thoughts spiraling. What’s wrong with him not bringing you home. Even if he was your boyfriend, he was not obligated to, right? You were supposed to understand him, right? That’s what lovers are supposed to do.

“I thought to myself, maybe you were right. Maybe I was overdramatic, so I did what you asked and shrugged me off. Yet, with each passing day, it felt like I was a stranger in your eyes. Do you even realize Jungkook that ever since Eunha came into our lives, we’ve only been on three dates?” 

You’re too demanding, his mind screams. Three dates? That was plenty for successful stars of your caliber. You had to understand that being under the limelight meant that he couldn’t reserve all the time in the world for you. 

His heart clenches painfully again, and Jungkook feels a sob hitch in his throat. 

“It hurt.” You cry, letting out the words that Jungkook wanted to say. “It hurt so much watching the love of my life and my best friend toss me to the side. Where was the you that promised that you’d always be there for me? Where was the you that promised to stay?” 

You’re crying now, tears streaming down your face as the words you’ve kept hidden for the longest time finally make their way out of your system. Every part of you was screaming in agony and pain, and you can feel the mended parts of your patched-up heart slowly break again. 

“Jungkook, I loved you. I loved you so much that I risked it all for you. I joined the band even though I wasn’t sure of our future because I saw how happy you were. You showed me what happiness could be, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that, but at the same time, you showed me firsthand real pain and heartbreak. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for doing that.” 

No. Why? You had to forgive him. You were his best friend. Stop. Stop speaking. Stop it. 

“I left because I wanted to keep what we still had within our memories.” You whisper, remembering the night you finally came to your decision. Remembering all the times you cried and broke down, not knowing what to do or where you should go. All the times where you forced yourself to put on a smile on your face and act as if everything was fine even though it wasn’t. 

“And I hoped that in leaving, we could pick up all the broken pieces and create something new with them. Maybe it would not have been a relationship as strong as the one we’ve had before. But at least it was something. And at least I would have still had a connection to you.”

You’re calm now, in a much better headspace than before. But that didn’t mean the ocean of despair that you surrounded yourself in dwindled in the slightest. It was still there, waiting in silence for the moment it could envelop you once more into its treacherous arms and drown you in its suffocating whispers. 

“But what the fuck is this?” 

You can feel the tides begin to sway, and you will yourself desperately to keep them down. With how the situation was unfolding, you needed to be the bigger person. For your sanity, For Jungkook’s, and for the closure that you both needed, which you weren’t sure would ever peacefully come to an end. 

“I never thought that you’d think of us like this Jungkook,” you whisper, and much to your horror, a tear slipped from the crevices of eyes as you hurriedly wiped them, standing up to grab your purse as you stood to leave the pub, not caring one bit if Jungkook got home safely or not, you were too overwhelmed to care. 

“I thought you loved me,” You whisper as you turn to look at him one final time, and all of a sudden, Jungkook is hit with wave after wave of sadness, anger, pain, frustration radiating from you. It suffocates him, and the only thought running through his head were questions of him hurting you? Was this really all his fault? 

“But I guess you only loved yourself.” A chuckle falls from your lips as you make your first step out of the door. Not paying mind to the old lady who looks at you with a worried gaze, you turn to open the door of the pub, only for someone else to beat you to it. 

Lo and Behold, It’s Eunha. 

“You,” She gasps as she takes in your disheveled and exhausted state. Although that immediate shock quickly disappears as she catches Jungkook’s equally petrified state from the corner of her eye. She then glares at you, but you honestly can’t find the energy within you to care.

Because this was never about her in the first place, even if in some way she plays a small part. 

“What did you do?” Eunha spats as she rushes past you to go to Jungkook, not even bothering to hear you out. You sigh, gathering the last remaining buts of courage within clenched fists, and make your way out of the door, leaving Jungkook, your broken heart, and the memories you two shared behind for good. 

Not caring what he would do with those fragments in the end. 

“Jungkook!”

Eunha exclaims, immediately hooking her arms around him and hoisting him up into an embrace. “What happened? What did that bitch do?” But Jungkook doesn’t answer, thoroughly overwhelmed by the range of emotions that had just surpassed him from his conversation with you. 

Was it truly his fault? Was he the reason why things had turned out this way? There was no way right. He had treated you right, right? 

Jungkook tries to convince himself that he’s done nothing wrong, that he was perfectly innocent in this situation. But that nagging feeling deep within his mind and soul screams at him to finally realize the truth. He’s scared. He doesn’t want to know what lies beyond the bubble of happiness he had placed himself in. He doesn’t want to feel the agonizing pain he’s put himself through without realizing it. 

But not doing so would kill him more than knowing the truth ever will. 

So he opens the door to the truth and wallows in the misery of what he’s done. 

To be fair, there was some truth to Jungkook’s words. He had treated you like you were the most precious thing in the universe. And that was because, for the longest time, Jungkook did consider you highly special to him. You were his first friend, the first person he could confide his feelings in, the first person who showed him what love could be like. 

You grew up together, cried together, had your first drink together, stood on stage for the first time together. You had done just about everything together, and Jungkook cherished you more than anything in the world. 

In everything he did, he always tried to make you a part of it. Whether that meant buying your favorite drink or sending you pictures of whatever he was doing, Jungkook always wanted to help you see the world through his eyes because you deserved that much. 

Ice cream dates, sneaking out at night to have some chicken and beer, random dates at the local arcade, a stroll at the beach. You and Jungkook had practically done it all. So, where did it all fall apart? Where did Jungkook go wrong?

“Jungkook?” Eunha calls out, and Jungkook finally musters up the courage to look at Eunha, who was worriedly trying to get him to answer her. Her hold is familiar, something he’s been used to in the past two years, yet at the same time, something was missing within her warmth. An unexplainable feeling he couldn’t quite describe.

And then he realized it wasn’t you. 

Just when did he go astray? When did he start treating you like you weren’t the world to him? For sure, it wasn’t a singular moment. It was most definitely a culmination of many events that led up to his demise. But just how did it happen? 

He looks at Eunha’s worried eyes, those same eyes that he thought meant the world to him within those two years of your break up. Yet, for some reason, he just couldn’t look at them in the same way anymore. Not when there was this hollow emptiness in his heart that called out for you and only you, 

It was like a game of tug and war in his heart. He still loved Eunha; that much was for sure. But he couldn’t deny the love that he had for you as well. He remembered how Eunha was like a breath of fresh air for him. In the midst of all your nagging for him to take care of himself when he was working his ass off making new songs and dealing with management, Eunha was there to simply smile and encourage Jungkook. 

Like a fool, he got lured into Eunha’s charm and held onto it, not noticing that he was letting go of you in the process. 

His heart wails. It cries in pain and desperation of the love it has lost. Why did it have to be this way? Why was Jungkook such a fool? So consumed by his own selfishness, he abandoned the love you two shared and sought another, and now he was reaping what he had sown. 

You were gone. You would never come back. Whatever love you had between the two of you had left and died out. The world was cruel. It had given Jungkook so much hope yet took it away from him the moment he slipped up. Yet, he couldn’t really blame them. He couldn’t really blame you. 

Because he knew you had tried, he could see it in the way your eyes still cried out in pain when you see him. He could hear it in the agony of your voice as you sang passionately in your songs. He knew you did your best to pick up the fallen pieces and try to mend them back together. But all Jungkook did was rip them apart all over again. 

Life couldn’t have been any better for Jeon Jungkook until suddenly it was not. 

And he was the only one to blame. 

© yumeyooa 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform aside from a03 and tumblr or by any means is NOT permitted and will be dealt with accordingly.

➢ taglist: @wearenot7withu @nadiaislas @bbydoejk​ 

#bts x reader #bangtan x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk x reader #bts jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

#juri vips #juri vips imagine #juri vips fanfic #juri vips x reader #f2 2021 #formula 2 #f2 fanfic #hitech gp

[yhwhsdaughter]

HQ!! Manager being protective when people insult their player

(ft. oikawa, hinata, tanaka, yachi, osamu, kuroo)

Warnings: threats, physical altercations, bullying, public humiliation

I usually don’t condone the usage of violence, but I woke up mad today lmao

OIKAWA

the pretty setter was getting ready to serve, his fangirls screaming in support while the rest of the team took a break.

to the side were a couple of guys staring in jealousy, “heh, his weak ass gets a big ego just because—”

they continued their insults and while they didn’t reach oikawa, his team members certainly heard it all

teasing oikawa was different when it came from them because they genuinely cared about him,, but for someone else to continuously bully the setter without reason?? it was infuriating

before any of them could kick their asses, their manager approached them.

(name) was perhaps the most polite individual they’d met; always patient and kind despite their antics

“ah, i can see the misunderstanding that oikawa is a weakling. he’s got a broken knee and constantly pushes himself despite the excruciating pain.”

the aura surrounding them suddenly turned dark and cold as (name) clutched the shoulder of the main bully with an iron grip

“what about you? shall i break your knee so we can find out if you’re stronger than him?”

at that moment, their gentle mannered manager had the eyes of a beast, unyielding as the guy tried to escape their grip

when they left, the players approached (name) who still glared in that direction. “woah we didn’t know you could be so scary (name)”

now calmer, they replied, “you’re my team, i would kill anyone that tries harm you.”

it was such a matter-of-fact that the males couldn’t help but laugh “haha you’re funny too”

“am i laughing?”

that day they learned their precious manager would deadass commit murder for them

extra: when oikawa found you defended him, he ran with open arms, “(name)-channnnn marry me!” squeezing the life out of you

HINATA

competition hadn’t even started and people were already shit talking karasuno

“flightless crows” blah blah blah

as their third manager, you would be in the benches with yachi, supporting the team

however, hinata had gone to the bathroom and he wasn’t back. daichi had sent you to get him since the game was about to start

you found the team’s sunshine nearly corned by a tall player “aah you’re so short and you’re a middle blocker?? i’ll be looking down on you little shrimp!”

he didn’t get to say more because your leg swiftly hit the back of his knees, falling to the ground harshly.

no one and i mean no one messes with hinata without you getting a few hits in, regardless height

“oh look. you’re below him now”

mans was lucky y’all were in a competition, otherwise he wouldn’t have left unscathed

with that, you steered your baby hinata away from that asshole, throwing him a dirty look in case he wanted to try anything

if he did, you would not hold back. literally on sight

fyi hinata was totally not blushing the entire way back. everytime you approach him now he gets all flustered

everyone else is like ???

TANAKA

the ladies man, tanaka had encountered a group of attractive girls at the arcade so he decided to shoot his shot

when they declined, tanaka was prepared to leave them alone, respectful of a woman’s boundaries, but they decided to verbally attack him

“who’d wanna go out with you?” “yeah you’re so ugly, stupid baldie”

wrong move

unfortunately for them, you were also at the arcade, having heard how the entire conversation went down

you knew tanaka would never use violence against a girl, even if they were rude, but you would.

equal rights equal fights bitch

those girls never saw it coming, you grabbing the leader’s hair roughly and yanking it back, “you’re right, longer hair is much better”

you went feral; simultaneously slapping the others away when they tried to pull you off, your tight grip never faltering.

only when tanaka placed a gentle hand on your arm that you released her

“insult him again and you’ll be the baldie next time”

in short, tanaka now sees you as his personal deity. boy will adore you

YACHI

the third years were gone now

kiyoko had left the team in your and yachi’s hands, with you mainly taking charge as the now-third year manager

the team all sat together for lunch (yes, tsukki too), they were waiting for you since you’d been talking with a teacher

a girl in front of you side-eyed yachi, watching with envy as the blonde sweetheart spoke with the handsome volleyball players

plan brewing in that toxic mind of hers, the girl pretended to trip, spilling her lunch all over yachi. the team didn’t have time to react, watching in shock as food splatted on her lap

sis even had the audacity to say “oh sorry didn’t see you there” as if she didn’t just purposefully throw her food on someone else

worry not, because you returned the favor.

as soon as she gave her faux apology, your food was already making its way down her head to her shoes

there wasn’t a part of her left uncovered

“my bad, i thought you were the trash” you did not look sorry at all

half of the cafeteria watched this unfold—tsukki even making some snide remarks. you grabbed yachi’s hand, guiding her to the restroom to help her clean off

from that moment on, people got the message to never mess with the volleyball team lest they face the wrath of their manager

OSAMU

osamu was your best friend, the reason why you joined inarizaki as their manager

currently, you were in home ed, making the assigned dish but it wasn’t difficult so your movements were lax so much that you couldn’t help but overhear the conversation going on in front of your table

at the mention of osamu, your ears perked up

“he was SUCH a jerk. i kept asking hoping he would grow tired and say yes, but nooooo. apparently osamu thinks he’s better than me”

some of her friends looks uneasy at her inability to take ‘no’ for an answer but the girl continued on her rant

the teacher stepped out for a moment. “HAHAHAHHAHA” the class turned to look at you, laughing like a maniac while you chopped vegetables with scary precision and inhuman strength

“you sure got some nerve, harassing someone like that.. especially my best friend”

that was the moment the grew knew she’d fucked up. she couldn’t even answer back because the teacher was back.

you made a point to ask the teacher if you could be partners with that girl for the next lesson, making her gulp in fear as you ran a finger across your throat

to say the least, she stopped talking for the remainder of the class

KUROO

chemistry?? you and kuroo?? friends?? together in class???

a fucking chaos

just kidding. the two of you were actually really good students. the best, if you had to brag

despite being the teacher’s favorite, you were lowkey about it while kuroo liked to insert as many chem jokes as he could in presentations

it was kinda embarrassing and you subtly teased him, but never with malicious intent

during a lab, you got partnered with a bully. you tried to ignore him and continue working, but it kept getting worse.

the breaking point was dragging in kuroo to all of this. you’d rejected his offers of going on a date and when kuroo made a motion to ask if you were ok, the dude took it as a sign to talk shit

“seriously? him? he’s a fucking nerd. his jokes are lame and has shitty hair—”

your eye twitched. “oi you better stop if you don’t want me to burn your face off”

clueless in class, he didn’t know how to handle the material so you were doing all the work. he didn’t believe you

bringing in the acidic substance near his face is when he finally backed away, at which point you had already called the teacher and told them that he was playing around with dangerous chemicals

although it was the other way around, who do you think the teacher believed, their star student or the school bully??

lmao, bitch could ask his detention buddies out on a date now

kuroo: ??

#haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo testuro #hinata shouyou #osamu miya #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu yachi #oikawa torū #kuroo x reader #hinata x reader #osamu x reader #tanaka x reader #oikawa x reader #yachi x reader

[asavt]

Another cookie squad Headcanons

Featuring Sparkling, Vampire, cellphones and the Espresso and Madeleine Story of how they came together. Consider it an AU now baby!

-As a note, when I say the squad I'm mostly referring to the adults, so no worries about Walnut or Creampuff useless I mention them too

-Each one of the squad has been in Sparkling's bar at last once. There's no need to say who has been there the most. Sparkling has a time every time someone besides Roguefort comes, because to him it's mostly like "Oh I'll finally know the continuation to the burnt toast accident or maybe the cat catastrophe? Maybe a new POV of the--"

He practically knows a lot of what happens in between the squad.

-As another note, Sparkling's bar is called Milabo (You know, like the song from Zutomayo of the same name, which, btw, I relate a lot to Latte)

-*A great part of this “AU” is kind of inspired by the song. Part of its lyrics and vibe.

-Vampire is there most of the time when the squad visits the bar (it's almost as if he never leaves the bar and this is definitely not me low-key putting sparkvamp in this oh no--) Sometimes the fakes his sleep to listen to the things others say (Which is how he knows most of Rogue's pan-ic).

-Walnut has been in Sparkling's bar too, but at day and for case-solving purposes only. Sparkling will give her some alcohol-free drink for free sometimes (mostly because he gets along pretty well with the nut family and because Almond usually pays him whatever he serves her).

-If the squad had cellphones (and probably an app like discord because.), their group chat would initially be called "Coffee mage appreciation group" and then be changed to "Coffee bean appreciation group"

Coffee Bean: Can we please change the group name and mine?

Guided by the Devine: No <3

Coffee Bean: Fuck you.

-*And they all would dedicate half their time to make fun of Almond but with love.

-Espresso has been mistaken for a dark mage before by Almond. It was how they meet actually. Almond had pulled him to interrogate him and got a long lecture on the differences between black magic and coffee magic.

-Madeleine gets along rather well with Roguefort. Rogue seems impressed by Maddie’s acting skills.

-Madeleine is currently living with Espresso. Out of his armor most of the time. He usually takes care of keeping the house clean and preparing meals (He never really had to cook before but the first dish he made wasn’t bad at all). Sometimes he will tag along Almond in the detective’s work, or Almond will ask for his help.

-I’m still unsure if I want the Almond/Roguefort/Latte to be romantic or platonic. But honestly? Both are good. Latte is pretty close to Almond and Roguefort but not in the way she is with Espresso (that makes them look like siblings jkashduawhu). Perhaps I’ll keep it platonic.

-The Espresseleine/Madespresso story of how they came together, because I seem to not be able to write it down JSHALDHUIWADWA-

--It happens after the Puppet Show mini quest. Madeleine starts to ask for Espresso's "assistance" in different mission that are given to him. Angel is there too, of course.

--During these missions is that Essy clarifies that no, they are not friends, no, he does not like Madeleine. Bringing up the knight begin too prideful and self-centered if not all then most of the time.

--Is not until one of their missions goes wrong, were Angel is knocked out and Espresso (seeing and knowing that if Madeleine is knocked down too they might not be able to go back to the kingdom ever) pretty much receives a rather big attack for Madeleine is that he kind realizes the facts given by espresso true. All while he is carrying Essy and Angel back to the kingdom, running and exhausted too.

--Clover begin kind of a mediator between the two (I want to see more of my son--)

--"Devine, protect us" Should happen too after this. An scenario like, Madeleine coming to think something like "I'm the shield, the one who goes on the front line and receives the blows for those who can't, always looking straight ahead... but if I am doing that then who watches my back? Who do I rely on and trust to take care of most enemies so the damage received is not overwhelming...?"

Power of team work baby!!!

--As a note to this, Maddie getting his cape damaged as well as his hair. So, you get short hair Maddie~

(I've been drawing him with short hair in secret now I have an excuse to show)

-- "You...cut your hair..." *Madeleine touches the points of it with one of his hands, pensive* "...pft it'll grow back!"

--There's also this "Search for your own light" thing between Angel and Maddie. Angel encouraging Madeleine to do so. Maybe Madeleine giving his best wishes to them for their wish to fly before they decide to part ways.

--Madeleine trying other ways to befriend Essy. Which at first Espresso mistaken as the knight usual attempts to befriend anyone he sees out of habit and attention seeking, but once they realize the feeling is completely genuine, Espresso is rather perplexed.

--"You can't just befriend people by buying them gifts (although I do appreciate them)" "Then what?" "hmm..."

--Said gifts used to be rather expensive things, simple though. Eventually Madeleine settles to just pass by Espresso's place, give him any food he had bought that day (which usually is glazed donuts), ask if he needs any help with something (getting a vase, materials, moving things), and if not then he just says his good byes, best wishes and silently leaves. (A note on the "silently leaves": Madeleine is pretty much used to speak loudly and enter loudly anywhere, he still does this at this point, but when it's about Espresso he is a bit more quiet, a bit showy over his entrances still, but less loud, and he actually knocks the door)

--Madeleine eventually manages to go out with Espresso to other places that aren't some place in the forest full of enemies. Probably after some more visits to his place and more calm talks between the two, Madeleine brings up that Espresso tends to act a bit cold or distant towards a lot of people, and that, although he understands his discomfort at begin in public spaces or too long out of his work, he should try and open up a bit. This reminds Essy of a certain friend he hasn't seen in some time, and from whom he keeps getting letters.

--Shenanigans.

--There's still some bickering between the two, always with a playful undertone though.

--Espresso explains Madeleine, one time the knight has gotten Espresso wrapped in a blanket burrito again and got him to bed, that sometimes, no matter how tired he might feel, he is simply unable to sleep. Part of a headcanon of mine that coffee magic has this side effect on it's users, prolonged usage of this kind of magic will induce a high caffeine kind of state, which on the long run can fuck up the user's sleep schedule. Madeleine understands this, but remains stubborn about keeping Espresso in the bed so at last he can get some rest from his work and clear his mind a little, the idiot falls asleep in the process and Espresso doesn't try to wake him up.

--This happens several times after, neither of them thinking of the implications of not begin bothered by the sudden closeness they share until it's too late.

--Espresso realizes first that he has slowly, yet nicely, fallen for Madeleine. I think I talked about this before but I'll do it again: Is in one of the times Madeleine has gotten Espresso to bed to get some rest, Espresso not begin able to fall asleep and Madeleine doing again. Is while he thinks of how he has gotten to know Madeleine for real, not the Knight Commander from a noble family or the Chosen by the Devine, but as he is, that he comes to think that "Ah.... I love him" and he remains calm about it.

--Espresso doesn't overthink it, just thinks that, if Madeleine ever got an interest in him, he would surely show it. So he waits. Even if in the end his feelings aren't mutual he knows he'll do just fine remaining friends.

--Madeleine realizes not many days after. And the realization hits him like a truck. Alone in his place and probably in bed looking at the ceiling thinking about Espresso. Once he realizes and thinks about it a bit more his face gets all red and chooses to scream in the pillow.

--He would think about telling Espresso as soon as he can, after all, he doesn't want his feelings to make their friendship weird. He values it, a lot. Maybe because his friendship with Espresso it's the first one where he genuinely wanted to become friends with someone.

--Espresso takes the confession calmly, gets all flustered after they kiss for the first time.

--As a few extras of this: Madeleine goes back to the Republic, asked to be seen by his family and Espresso goes to Parfedia, where a few students have applied to his class to his surprise. When they see each other again is at Parfedia (Madeleine sending a message to Espresso beforehand about his arrival) -there was this one drawing I did once of Maddie running to hug Espresso, something like that happens-. Madeleine gets very clingy for some reason, which they speak later and comes out as “Home doesn’t quite feel like home…” “Why is that?” “I don’t know… maybe I’ve become used to be around you”

--Espresso lets ends up letting Madeleine stay with him until he either feels like returning to the Republic or is called back, whatever happens first (though none will happen for maybe a year or a little more).

--Ends with Madeleine meeting Latte and Almond.

#Headcanon time baby! #The cookie squad #Espresso Cookie #Madeleine cookie #espresseleine #madespresso #Roguefort cookie #Almond cookie #Latte Cookie #Sparkling cookie #Vampire cookie #Walnut cookie #Bar gays