#trying my best to convince my brother to fixate with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonffe · 3 months

Note

i lovedddd my lips might've slipped!! please please please make a part 2

ofc. <3

my lips might've slipped

ethan landry pt2

pt1. pt3 warnings: making out, suggestive stuff, arguing, blood. word count: 7k

A/N: the writers block i got while writing this was almost the end of me... came up with a lot of one shot ideas though so I'll be posting those really soon.

“You left him… there.” Quinn repeated after you, looking bored out of her mind like this happened everyday.

“He was being an asshole, Q.”

“You always think he's being an asshole.“ She shook her head with distaste.

You weren't exactly known for being uncomfortable around people. Actually, it was the other way around. But you couldn't look at her as she ambled towards her closet. You felt embarrassed, tracing the rim of your coffee mug with your finger. “That's just how he acts, Y/N. You out of all people should know this.”

“He used to be different.”

This seemed to pique her interest. “In general or towards you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Both.”

“A lot of stuff has changed since we were kids.” She told you, leaving a bag with vials filled with fake blood next to you on the bed. You understood there was privacy in this apartment, but it was risky to leave this kind of stuff just laying there in her closet. How did she do it? “Richie's gone, dad's more distant than usual…”

Quinn bit her lower lip. You hated drawing all the attention to you when she was going through stuff, too.

“You don't need to—”

“It's fine.” She cut you off, her tone slightly aggressive. She cupped your face in her hands and leaned over you before you could stop her. You weren't self-conscious while being this close to her, Quinn was definitely the person you trusted the most. That's exactly why she noticed your lack of eye contact and was now forcing you to look at her. You didn't want to. You had so much shit bottled up you were scared you would start crying. You winced at the idea, stretching your arm to leave your mug on her night table.

“You're amazing, Y/N. I'm not just saying this because I'm your best friend. You really deserve the best out there, and If my asshole brother can't give you that, then move on.” You tried to retort, but her hand quickly slapped over your mouth. Jesus. “If you say you're not into him one more time, I'll jump out that damn window right now.” Her head nodded towards her bedroom's single window. You lured at her, but you could feel your heart hammering inside your ribcage. “You want him, and he wants you back. I'm not stupid and I know my brother— But if he keeps up with all the bullshit, then stop. I love him, but that doesn't make him a better person.”

Your eyes were starting to water, and hers were still fixated on yours. You licked her palm for the fuck of it. Quinn winced, retracting her hand from your face. “Did you have to do that?”

You wiped your damp eyelashes with the side of your wrist, a knot in your throat. “You weren't letting me go.” She snorted, your body barely swaying from her cleaning her palm on your shirt sleeve.

“Still. That ruined my entire speech.” Quinn had to press her lips together to not laugh. You were aware the situation was probably funny, but you couldn't muster a smile.

Her hand covered your mouth again, expression serious. “Understood?” She waited for you to say the words. You surrendered. The fuck else could you do? “Good.”

“I don't want him.” It's the first thing you said when you were able to speak again.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? I'll jump out the window, Y/N.”

You sighed, lifting your gaze from the floor to meet her eyes. “Thanks for telling me all that. I'm not sure it helped, but— I appreciate you caring about me and my… complicated relationships with individuals who do not own a uterus. You're a good friend.”

“Best friend.” She ruffled your hair before reclining on the bed, propping herself on her elbows. “Well, are you gonna tell me what happened between the two of you?”

She'd hate you. She'd beat the absolute shit out of you. Your eyes almost widened at the mere thought of telling her— Yeah, you weren't going through that. “Nice try. No.”

“Did you…” Her eyes narrowed, thoughtful. “Get drunk and kiss him?”

“No.”

She elevated her eyebrows. “Did you fuck him?”

“Fuck, Quinn!” Your face scrunched up, she laughed when you threw a pillow straight to her face. “No!”

“Okay, okay!” She glanced away before looking back at you. “Did you maintain sexual intercourse with my brother?”

You had to rub your temples to alleviate your embarrassment. “That made me want to kill myself.”

“So it's a yes.”

“It's a ‘I'm not talking to you for the rest of the night’.”

“You can't talk to the dead.” She reminded you, sighing as she sprawled out on the bed. You mirrored her, lying on your back and staring at the ceiling, fidgeting with the ring around your finger. You missed wearing some of your favorite jewelry, but times were different, and now you had to keep them hidden in your closet. They were gifts from a certain person…

“Go fuck yourself, respectfully.” You shut your eyes closed, a small smile playing on your lips as Quinn's hand slapped over your forehead. She felt up your face until reaching your cheek, your head tilting after she gave it a fake bitch slap.

“I did not take any offense in that.” You couldn't see her face, but the laziness in her voice was obvious.

You stared at the filled bathtub, feeling the weight of your eyelids. Time flew by while you and Quinn were asleep. You usually avoided naps, afraid you'd have that dream again. But this time you were so tired you didn't even think of him. Ethan's presence brought you back to the present. He sprayed fake blood into the water, then turned to you. "You ready?” You hated being this close to him.

“I guess.” You motioned for him to turn around while you took your clothes off and got in the bathtub. You kept your shirt in hand, using it to cover yourself. If you fucking catched him looking at you… “Ready.”

Ethan faced you, eyes briefly lingering downwards before he sighed. “Okay.” He hummed, a small wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as he knelt in front of you, focused on inspecting your torso. “This is gonna hurt.”

“We practiced this.” He nodded, still not looking into your eyes. You had to die. Well, not exactly. The plan was to get injured and just make it look like you almost died.

It would be too convenient if you escaped the apartment clean, and too hard to fake your death like Quinn was. So, since you were such a fucking masochist, you agreed to do this.

Your best friend wasn't as good with a knife like her brother was. He knew what he was doing well enough to not damage anything vital, and you were sure he wasn't evil enough to actually hurt you. "Bring it.”

Was he?

You squeezed his shoulder with all your strength as the blade of his knife found its place beneath your ribs. He pulled you closer, letting you bury your face in his neck. You weren't supposed to scream.

“I know. I know it hurts.” He whispered, fingers sliding through locks of your hair. He was trying to comfort you, anyone would in this situation, but the glare you showed him made the look on his face change. He let go of you. “Have it your way, sweetheart.”

You frowned at the pet name. “I'm bleeding. Do you mind?”

“I stayed on the side and didn't go too deep, Y/N. You're not gonna bleed out.” He spat, applying fake blood to your leg. His hand ran over your skin to disperse it over your shin. He had an attitude, you could see it on his face, but he was still being careful.

“And? It still hurts.” You said, trying to hide how damn flustered you were actually getting.

Your hand remained hardly grasping your shirt, trying to keep it in place. Ethan's eyes met yours after you flinched at the cold blood. He looked away, but his gaze returned to your hands after a while. You didn't like it. “What?”

“You’re shaking.” He mentioned. Discreetly, you checked. Your fingers trembled around your shirt, but he shook his head before you could retaliate. “I'm not looking.” His voice was soft, but your personality wasn't.

“You are, though.” And he probably was. Why the hell would he mention it, then?

He gave you a look, but continued with his work. You were trying to relax, you really were, but his touch was making you feel things. The fabric of his gloves touching you with so much gentleness like you were made of porcelain. It was actions that mattered, not words. His thumb traced up your arm, softly pressing on your shoulder. His eyebrows furrowed. “Did you get that mole removed?”

“Ethan.” You grumbled.

He sat back, looking distraught for a second before he made up his mind and met your gaze. “Was it for that guy?” He asked. You could only close your eyes, trying not to snap. “I'm dead serious, Y/N. I want to know.”

You weren't supposed to talk about anything that could or couldn't have happened in the past. And specifically, of how he could know about that mole. “What guy?”

“Johnny.” He choked out. “Your asshole ex.”

You opened your eyes and realized he was, in fact, being serious. His demeanor solemn as he stared, waiting for you to answer him like you didn't have a fucking agreement. “Surprised you remember him.”

“I remember when it comes to you.” His words made your cheeks heat up, though you weren't sure if it was out of surprise or embarrassment.

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“Did you get it removed for him?” He looked at your shoulder, a vein throbbing on his jaw. “I liked that mole.”

“I don't know, was Tate dressing up for you at the Halloween party?”

He almost looked like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't bring himself up to the task. “Do you care?”

“It's the second time you ask me that.” You paused, and decided to shoot him back. “When it comes to you, I care.”

“Is it bad that I like the sound of that?” He asked, his voice husky. It made your breath hitch.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don't know— Maybe? I didn't ask her to.”

“That's kinda obvious.” It was. But you still wanted to know if it was fucking intentional. “It would be weird.”

“What? Ask my girlfriend to dress up for me?” He chuckled, his amusement tinged with sarcasm. “It would be plain abusive.”

Girlfriend. Your jaw clenched, you couldn't keep living like this. Why did it hurt so much? Why did it hurt so much to know he did exactly what you asked him to? He got over you, and you were still the same idiot that drooled over him every time he was nice to you. You hated him.

“You know who'd do that?”

Ethan noticed the change of tone in your voice, so he just hummed in response, wanting to avoid an argument. But by that moment, it was your only way of protecting yourself. Of trying to take your heart away from his reach. “Your dad.”

“You always say that.” You noticed how much you got to him by how forcefully he put the vial down. He leaned in, fingers threading through your hair to make it look like you fought back.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” He paused, his voice wavering. He was struggling to maintain his composure, and you were enjoying it. “But he's my father, and I'm nothing like that man. It's offensive.”

“Nothing like him?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him. He met your gaze with conviction, looking like he was about to snap at you.

“Nothing like him.”

“I thought you helped him kill your mom.”

“It's different.” He assured you, a flicker of pain crossing his features. You weren't falling for that shit.

“But you have a relationship with him.”

“Not the relationship I'd like.”

Your teeth caught your lower lip as he got busy again. He applied blood on his gloves for realism, rubbing his palms together to spread it over the black fabric. It wasn't hard for you to notice the missing item, since you were pretty much devouring him with your eyes.

You were unaware that you voiced your thoughts out loud until his eyes focused on you. You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“What?” He inquired, confused.

“Tate's hair tie.”

He just stared at you for a while, lowering his head ever so slightly. “Right.” You frowned.

“Did you guys get into an argument or something?” You were sure the answer was no, but him exhaling took you by surprise.

“It's stupid.”

“What did you do?”

“We were kissing and… I don't know, I was drunk. Mixed things up and called her by your name.”

His confession made your face fall. “Is that supposed to be romantic? Because it doesn't fucking feel like it.”

“She said no strings attached.” He glowered at you.

“Then why did you take it off?”

“Because she was mad.” He bit his lower lip, playing with the lace of his left boot to avoid looking at you. “I never— I never felt something for her, Y/N. But I think she started falling in love with me.”

No, no, no, no— You weren't sitting through that shit. Your best friend was one wall away, if you could just… “Quinn!” You shouted, but his bloody glove clamped over your mouth. When the fuck did he get that close to you?

“No, listen.” He groaned. ”You can't just always push me away.”

You moved your head to the side to push his hand away. His nose only inches away from touching yours. He was breathing heavily, and you were ashamed to admit it was making you nervous, he was making you nervous. “I don't wanna hear it, Ethan.”

“Can you give me one chance?” He begged, his hands moved to the wall, pinning you against it. “Just one fucking chance to talk?”

You started feeling dizzy while his eyes were on yours, and you realized you forgot to breathe. How to breathe. Fuck, you were weak. “Go on.” You wheezed.

“Thank you, I—” He swallowed. “I never felt something for her. I never felt… anything since we broke up. That's why I was using Tate. Because I was trying to feel something, I was trying to feel alive again—”

“So you just used her?” You cut him off, you were gripping your shirt against your bare body for dear life. “Like she was disposable.”

“I never thought you out of all people would care about that.” You rolled your eyes. He grabbed your chin to stop you from looking away from him. “We said no strings attached, Y/N. It couldn't even be called a relationship— It wasn't one. We would just make out and I would go as her date at parties.”

“You still looked pretty damn close.” You huffed, jealousy clouding your senses. “I don't wanna know about how you switched saliva with that bitch—”

“You just asked me to tell you!” He protested, your hand slapping over his mouth. You stayed silent, trying to get a clue on what was going on outside. It was very faint, but you could hear the group still yapping and laughing.

“If they hear you, it's over.” You grimaced.

“I'm sorry.” He coed.

“It's fine…” A low sigh escaped your lips, the soft fabric of his cloak between your fingers as you absentmindedly adjusted the hood.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked me.”

“But you never told me anything before.” You paused, locking eyes with him. His big, earnest brown eyes that held rare vulnerability. You wanted to kiss him. “Why is it different this time?”

His fingers traveled up your arms, cradling your wrists tenderly as they were still pressed against his neck. “You know why.” He murmured, a tinge of pain underlying his words, causing your guts to twist and turn inside of you. Then you realized maybe they actually were. You still had a cut on your side.

“We're not good for each other.”

Ethan grimaced, shaking his head. “You keep saying that, but you're the only person I've felt something for—”

“Do you want me or need me, Ethan?” You interrupted him, he looked confused for a second. “Because they're two different things. And if you need me, it's not love.”

“I need you because I want you.” His face held a sense of urgency. What did he want you to say?

“What do you think is going to happen? If the same thing from last time repeats itself—”

“We'll get through it.” He nodded his head, his features shifting to show a crazed, desperate glimmer in his eyes that made him look out of his mind. “I want a future with you. I want you. Just you. Please, just— just think about it, alright? Please, let me… just let me…”

His plea hung in the air when you pressed your mouth on his. He groaned, his soft lips easily returning the kiss. The two of you grinned when he lost balance and you had to hold his shoulders, keeping him in place. He was still on his knees, after all.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, gliding and rubbing over yours. Your fingers tangled between his messy curls, fingertips fondling his scalp and making him kiss you even more eagerly. It was slow, but you could tell he had been wanting to do that for a long time. Ethan let out a sound, and you questioned if it was a sob or he was just really enjoying himself. Did he really miss you that much? To cry the second you kissed him? His muscular arms snaked around your body, the softness of his cloak against your bare, cold skin feeling like heaven on earth to you.

He was holding you like you would disappear if he let go, and maybe he was right. Ethan was addictive. He was like a drug you couldn't get enough of, and you were just wondering what would happen when he walked out that door and you found yourself alone, feeling guilty for falling into temptation.

“You're ready.” His lips were wet and he was breathing hard when he pressed his forehead against your own. You gave a small hum to acknowledge his words. “Remember the plan?”

You hummed again. “I need to leave you now.”

“Alright.” You finally opened your eyes, a little too bewitched by the boy in front of you for your brain to have any logical structure. His minty breath hit your lips as he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips you gladly reciprocated.

He stood up straight and grabbed the empty vials from the floor while you recollected your thoughts, a nauseous sensation sweeping over your stomach at the thoughts your brain was, for some reason, forming.

What if something happened to him? “If they hurt you, I'll slit their fucking throat.”

Ethan bit his lip to hold back a smile, his knee bumping against your calf. “Didn't consider you a romantic.” He stared down at you, his grin was contagious.

“I prefer the term psychotic, but thanks anyway.”

His gloved hand affectionately ruffled your hair, sliding down to your cheek as his lips pressed a kiss on it. “Try not to move too much, alright? I promise I'll make you dinner after this is over.”

You snorted, your hands finding place in his lightly muscular chest as you pulled him down to your height. He finally gave in, revealing a set of white, straight teeth as he smiled. “You're gonna burn the house down.”

You had a lot of memories of sixteen year old Ethan trying to cook, he was a fire hazard near a stove.

“We'll order takeout, then." He said in a low tone, giving your forehead one last kiss. Then your temple, then your lips. “It's a promise.” You watched him rise from the floor and leave, chewing on your lip as you heard the faint voices of him and his sister arguing about something.

Quinn was bloody and ready, they just had to start making noise to catch the group’s attention. Your breathing slowly increased in pace as the realization of what just happened started hitting you. You shouldn't have kissed him, you shouldn't have let him kiss you, you practically just told him yes—

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You threw your shirt aside and groaned in pain. You definitely couldn't move much with a wound that big. Successfully grabbing your phone from the floor, you saw Quinn's text.

Took him a while to leave. Everything alright?

Not really.

Your finger tapped on the side of your phone impatiently. Come on. Come on, come on, come on— you sighed when she started typing.

Did he try something?

We kissed.

Was it consensual?

Yes. That's why i feel so fucking shitty. I shouldn't have.

We'll talk about this later alright? I need to get out there.

Okay.

You laid back on the bathtub and your face scrunched up. Fuck, it was hurting you. Was it pathetic that you couldn't even feel the pain before because you were busy worrying about Ethan? It probably was. He was still in your mind, he had been since you were seventeen.

There was a reason why you broke up, a reason why you tried to avoid him all these months. Guess you can't fall out of love with someone this fast, you had no idea why you thought you could achieve that. It was Ethan Kirsch we were talking about. That made it even harder.

Your eyes couldn't stare at the white ceiling for much longer, you were starting to blink a lot and you somehow feeling yourself losing blood. You didn't know if that was possible, or you were starting to hallucinate. Only thing you knew for sure, is you were dizzy as fuck. There were screams and thuds resonating through the thin walls of the apartment, the sounds of footsteps and running.

You weren't sure of how much time passed since Ethan left, but the voices and slams on the door became closer, a lot louder. Your eyes were starting to open again at the closeness of the noises. Someone called your name. Screamed your name, actually. It wasn't hard for you to recognize Mindy's voice. You blinked, trying to adjust to the lighting of the bathroom as Chad's sister noticed the crimson water in the bathtub, panting.

“Fuck, you gotta come with us!” Her eyes drifted somewhere else and yours followed. Sam was holding the door to the living room, with your ex-boyfriend relentlessly pounding on it. She looked horrified.

“Help her put something on. Fast!” She commanded, Mindy nodded and attempted to help you out of the water, but you kept shaking your head and pushing her arms away.

“I can't walk, I can't walk, I can't walk…”

“You're gonna die if you stay here!” Sam yelled.

Mindy choked out a breath, grabbing your pile of clothes from the floor. “I'm sorry about Quinn, but you need to come with us!”

“I can't— I won't. He thinks I'm dead.”

“With all the screaming, no, he doesn't anymore!” Sam ran towards you, hugging your shoulders to pull you out of the water. Mindy's eyes were wide and her hand was clutching at the wound on her arm after leaving you to put your underwear and shirt back on. Ethan was banging on the door harder every time, and Sam was starting to get impatient.

You rushed into Quinn's room and your jaw flew open at the sight of Anika bleeding that much. What did Ethan do to her?

The door creaked as it broke. Sam dashed into Quinn's room, and she and Mindy barricaded it with a closet. Your gaze shifted to Sam's boyfriend, staring at you and Anika bleeding out from the other window. Billy's daughter was looking for a way out, and you weren't exactly sure of what was happening while you stared at the door, wondering how much it would take Ethan to break it like the past one. Anika was whimpering, your arm wrapping around her absentmindedly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam panted, catching your attention. Ethan was taking too long… And Danny was using a… ladder. To help you cross. What the fuck? “You three go first!” Sam turned to you. You glanced at Mindy, who looked offended.

“Someone needs to hold the door, Sam! Anika and Y/N are losing blood!” She shouted. “Go!”

“Shit…” Sam gave you a look before going first. Mindy was still holding the door, and Anika clutched her stomach, trying to contain as much blood as possible. You started blinking, feeling cold sweat run down your temples. You laid back on the bed, knowing you had to stay conscious for this to work. Mindy wasn't getting away from the door…

“I'll hold it.” You offered, stumbling with your own feet as you got up.

“You're practically dying, I'm not leaving you to do this!” She scowled, but you ignored her words and still stood next to her, pushing the closet onto the door.

“So now you're being nice to me?” You bit the inside of your cheek, because you knew this was probably the last time you'd see her.

“I was wrong.” She choked out, giving you a nod. No, she wasn't. Sam yelled for someone to go next. You and Mindy looked at Anika. She was the closest to passing out.

You started falling asleep before waking up again, you had to wait for Anika to get a little closer to Danny's window… when your eyes opened, you realized you fell asleep for another second. Shit. You glanced back, seeing Ethan's arm fully in the room and swinging his knife through the small opening of the door. You glared at Mindy. If she pushed back one more time, she was going to fucking hurt him.

You faked passing out, collapsing sideways to push her down onto the floor. Ethan kicked the door open after you landed on top of Mindy. She struggled to push you from on top of her, but she managed to... without enough time to get to the window. Sam and Anika's screams echoed as Ethan's hands closed around Mindy's neck, choking her right beside you.

You opened your eyes, seeing hers widen. Mindy's lips parted as if to yell something, but Ethan slammed her down on the floor, pressing harder on her neck until she gradually stopped fighting back. Her arms fell limp, and you glanced up at him. Anika was next.

You were faking being passed out, so you didn't really know what was going on until a loud thud reached your ears. Holy shit. Did she fall?

You stayed still, listening to Ethan's footsteps with your eyes closed. He knelt down beside you, you caught your lower lip between your teeth.

"Good girl." He praised, caressing your cheek with two of his gloved fingers. He forgot to turn off his voice changer.

“Do you think they're going at it?” Ethan's head turned to look at you, arms folded across his stomach. His chest rose and fell softly with each breath, the Christmas lights that took you half an hour to untangle and install in Quinn's car hitting his face directly.

You knew he was cold— you could tell. But he wasn't saying it out loud. You felt guilty. He told you to bring thicker blankets, but you completely forgot with how much your best friend kept rambling about her new boyfriend while you packed for your road trip.

Your forehead wrinkled as you munched on a Skittle, nodding emphatically “Is that even a question? Definitely.”

Ethan reached for a handful of candy from the bowl in your hands, propping himself on an elbow. “You think? I thought they only came here because he wanted to know the woods.”

You rolled your eyes, his expression curious as he chewed. “You know Quinn.”

“But I don't know the guy.”

“He's probably a jock who just wants sex, Eth. They all are. and Quinn is…” You squinted, searching for words. “Quinn.”

“Don't call her that.” He protested, pausing mid-movement to glare at you.

“Don't look at me like that.” You retorted, bringing the bowl to your chest to protect it from him. Ethan stared at you through his long eyelashes, apathetic. You let out a groan when he reached out to grab something behind you, his chest inadvertently ending up above your legs. “Personal space, mister.”

“I just want my water…” He grumbled under his breath, the two of you sharing a menacing look after he sat up straight again.

“She's my best friend. I know her more than you do.”

“Is that so?” He twisted the cap open, challenging you. “How?”

“You're like… okay, let's put it this way. You're family.” The way he rolled his eyes made you crack a smile. He looked adorable with his tousled, curly hair imprinted by the pillow. The two of you had woken up from a two-hour nap just about ten minutes ago, and you were a sucker for freshly awake, moody Ethan. “Would she tell your dad what she did last night with a guy she found at a party? No. You're the younger sibling, it's the same principle.”

“She tells me things.” He sounded almost offended, suddenly forgetting he was about to take a sip of his water.

“Yeah, PG-rated things.”

“I'm eighteen.”

“And? Wait til you're 21 to brag about your age.”

He shook his head slightly, wiping his mouth with his wrist. “You're not even 21 yet.”

“Do you see me flexing about my age? No.”

Ethan let out a sigh, probably tired of your shit already and grabbed his pillow, laying his head down on it again. You felt your face fall as your features softened. Maybe you were a little too harsh on him. You stared, because he was probably the most beautiful guy you'd met. The dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, pale skin almost translucent.

He was worried, and him being worried made you worried, so… that was inconvenient. Richie left Modesto with Sam the day before, and while you trusted him to man the fuck up and make things go as planned, Ethan didn't.

“He's gonna be alright, Eth.” You reassured him.

“Why did we come here?” He mumbled, your heart twinging at his small sniff of him. You should've brought the extra blankets…

You delicately caressed his cheek, his eyes surrendering to your apologetic touch. You felt more confident in fondling his skin and feeling the warmth beneath your fingertips. If you could just… Your thumb brushed over his lower lip before you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his soft forehead.

“Quinn's supposed to be with me, so I can't be home or your dad will suspect she lied. And as for you…” You paused, and Ethan's lips began to twitch into a wide smile, eliciting a chuckle from you. “Consider it a favor, you never go out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He teased, his eyes lazily opening. “That's sweet.”

“Never sweeter than you, baby girl.” You caressed his lower lip, his eyes rolling as he pushed your hand away. “You're mean to me.” You showed him a pout, and he just shook his head.

“Deal with it.”

You tugged at his blanket to discover part of his chest, getting a frown you completely ignored when you turned around, showing him your back. Quinn was a few cars away from you, but far enough so you couldn't hear or know what was going in there.

You almost winced. Not like you wanted to know. Apparently this was a popular place for people to come and hook up. You were just closing your eyes and hoping you wouldn't hear anything. Even finding a racoon would probably be better than that shit.

"It would probably be uncomfortable." Ethan mused after a while, and you got on your side to frown at him.

"Are we still discussing this?" Your smile immediately faded at his raised eyebrows. "Uhm— It's cold, they'd freeze."

"Not big enough to move."

"What if a fox saw the lights and started scratching the door in the middle of it?" Ethan frowned before the two of you chuckled. At least you were making him laugh now. You were a bad friend.

"If there's not a blanket under them, it'll hurt their backs." You didn't give it much thought before nodding in agreement, eyes slowly drifting downwards to look at the blanket beneath the two of you. The idea that popped up in your head scared you. He was telling you this because… Lifting your chin again, Ethan's gaze met yours, and next thing you knew, he leaned in, kissing you.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands finding his hair and playing with it while he stretched his arm to grab his pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist to have support of your body and lay your head on the pillow, your back pressing against the fuzzy blanket. His thighs straddled your legs. “Is this okay?” He breathed out, looking down at you, but he didn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

You answered by firmly pressing your lips onto his again. Ethan grunted into the kiss, returning it like his life depended on it. His body was so soft and comfortable against yours, you barely felt any pain when he grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, but it was still uncomfortable. “Eth, my hair…” He stopped, noticing his arms pressing down on your hair.

“Shit, I'm sorry.” He quickly apologized, eyes darting from your lips to your eyes. “Are you alright?”

“I'll be if you keep going.” He nodded, obeying. Your thoughts weren't the clearest thing at the moment. You wanted this so much and you had been wanting it for a long time, the feeling was similar to being high. Even better. This was it. You had him. He had you. You lost yourself in all the caressing, mind clouding with the feeling of him, the touch of his fingertips on your neck and his big hand wrapping around your susceptible throat as he kissed you.

His body weight on yours was taking the air out of your lungs, but the feeling of being helpless only helped increase the violent hammering of your heart inside your ribcage. You adored him. Every single inch of him. You were panting, the heat all the pillows and blankets around the two of you were providing making you sweat badly.

You helped him pull his black hoodie over his head, his bare arms squeezing you against him immediately after. "I'll take care of you, okay? Just relax." He kissed the corner of your mouth, lips trailing down to press gentle kisses onto your neck. You threw your head back, Quinn's pink knit sweater just lying there in the driver's seat, making your mouth go dry.

Why did she leave it there? As a reminder? A reminder that the two of you shouldn't be doing anything weird because you were just friends? Because the person who was kissing your neck right now was your best friend's younger brother? No, you were just being paranoid. That was straight up fucking schizophrenic.

"You're not letting me lay you down." He uttered in a low, guttural tone. You glared at his words.

"Because I'm comfortable like this."

"With your elbows flexing like that?" He withdrew his mouth from your neck, staring up at you, out of breath. "Really?"

"Are you mad at me right now?" You inquired. Ethan looked away before starting to get up. "Can you please not—"

"No."

"What did I do!?"

"Nothing," he snarled. You sighed as he offered his hands to help you up. Taking them, you brought your legs to your chest awkwardly. It was clear he wanted answers with how he stared at you, and he knew you too well to lie to him. "What's wrong?"

"It doesn't... feel right." You choked out, glaring up at his face, and wishing he would understand. Ethan looked taken aback but quickly recovered.

"This doesn't feel right?"

"Yeah."

"Is it because of me?" He asked, and the look you gave him was offended.

"No, of course not. But you're Quinn's—"

"Brother, yeah. She doesn't care." His eyes narrowed. Was he fucking mocking you right now?

"How do you know?"

"It's Quinn."

"Don't be saying that about my best friend.”

Ethan's jaw clenched, it took him a moment to collect himself before he looked away from your face, exhaling the breath he was holding. “Alright.”

“Alright.” You agreed.

The two of you fell silent, focusing anywhere else that wasn't each other. Ethan fidgeted with the blanket, eyes on your phone laying next to the candy bowl. You stared at the rings wrapped around your fingers, chewing on your lip. You had to get up— you knew that. One of the two of you would eventually have to.

This was the smartest decision, and yet you felt empty. Like you had just closed the door that led to the single thing you had dreamt about for years but weren't able to get. It was alright, you tried to tell yourself. You had a friendship to keep. A great one.

Ethan knew the good and bad parts of you. He had seen you at your lowest, and he still stayed. Why? Because he was your friend. Your best friend. The one boy you had shared everything with. But if that was true, then why was there a difference in what you felt toward Richie and Ethan? Richie was your friend, and Ethan was... something more.

Your chest caved and squeezed your heart as you sighed. The little sound caught the brunet’s attention, prompting you to look up at his zealous face too. It took two seconds of eye contact for the two of you to start making out. Again. You rolled on the blanket a few times, almost dislodging the Christmas lights with how much the two of you were moving. You were on top when Ethan pushed your shoulders, his face scrunched up.

“This is wrong.”

You breathed heavily, confused. “What? Why?”

“I should be taking you to a hotel.” His grip on your shirt tightened, but he looked more mad at himself than at you as he tried to catch his breath. “For starters.”

“Oh my god, Ethan! Why would you—”

“Listen to me.” He demanded. His hands slid from your waist to your cheek, cupping your face in his hands. “We don't even have—”

“I'm on the pill.” You spoke over him. He paused, but he didn't look phased at all.

“That's only 87% effective.” Ethan's lips twitched, displeased, confusing you.

“How do you know that?”

He shook his head, delicately tucking away strands of your hair. “I wanted to be informed when this happened.”

“You were waiting for this to happen!?” The red creeping up to his face made you know you probably came off more panicked than you intended to. Shit.

“Weren't you?” He tried to play it off miserably. You moved away from on top of him, looking around for your missing shirt desperately.

“No. I was just praying every day it wouldn't.”

“Does that mean you—” He hesitated as he swallowed, sitting up. His eyes never left your face, looking vulnerable. Those angel eyes looked so fucking vulnerable you just wanted to hug him. But wasn't this an argument? You had to make up your mind. You found your shirt, but you didn't even care anymore. “Is this a one night stand? I mean— Are we doing this just because we feel like It, or is this your way to say you love me back?”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Fuck, no… “Put your hoodie on.” You groaned, and Ethan looked away from you frustratedly

The only reason you weren't answering him was because you were scared. This wasn't supposed to happen, at least not that soon…

“I do love you, Ethan.” The words just slipped out of your lips, surprising both of you. He raised his head, making sure you weren't joking. “And I don't want to break your heart.”

“You will if we keep living like this.” He admitted. “What's stopping you?”

You tried to not look down, you really did, but you were too much of a coward to not start playing with your rings. “Honestly? It's too messy. I don't want things to get weird with Quinn—”

“She doesn't care, Y/N.” He interjected, and you closed your eyes in frustration. That's what he always said, but you couldn't know for sure. You didn't want to find out. “If anything, I think she would be happy you chose someone she approves of.”

“I'm gonna fuck up my relationship with Quinn if this goes wrong…” You rubbed your temples, but looked up at the silence coming from him. He looked tense, like he was about to burst out the car and murder the first person he saw. You moved away slightly, contemplating.

You'd go to hell if you admitted out loud you found that attitude of his… enticing. He let out a breath when he saw you crawling towards him. His arms snaked around you, holding you close and lifting you slightly to move you onto his lap. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm not.” He crooned, you winced slightly as his nose pressed into the curve of your bare neck, next to your bra strap. He took in a deep breath.

“Sure.” You gripped the back of his black tank top, trying to relax. “You'll be wrinkled all over by the time you're 40 if you keep frowning.”

“I'm not mad at you, Y/N.” He repeated, he looked honest as his watery eyes met yours. Why did he look like he wanted to cry?

“And that's it?” You questioned. “I'm supposed to calm down because you told me it'd be okay?”

“Am I lying? Quinn's gonna be happy for us, I know that. But if you don't feel ready… then we can hide it.” He nodded solemnly, you raised an eyebrow.

“So, what? Am I like your lover now?”

“No.” He cringed, you let out a chuckle as he stopped caressing you. “That's not what I meant— We can just stay low for now. Not tell anyone about us.”

He waited, and after a moment of pondering, you sighed. You just had to look for the right moment to tell Quinn. You'd be more prepared by then. “Okay.”

Ethan's lips parted, curls wiggling as he nodded. You didn't know why he was like this, but you had to calm him down. You always had to. Ethan was aggressive, that was obvious. But he also used to be so sensitive.

“It's alright, Eth. It's alright…” You grabbed his face, staring at his big expressive eyes before pressing your mouth on his tenderly. Ethan muttered a "thank you" before slowly burying his face into your neck again. You felt his soft eyelashes against your skin as he closed his eyes, arms squeezing your waist.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ghostface #jack champion #scream vi #ethan landry angst

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Text

Call it Even - 1

Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,208

Summary: Instead of returning to the Empire after the destruction of Kamino, Crosshair reunites with his brothers and sister on the Havoc Marauder. But there's a new member of the team that he wasn't expecting, and the two of you don't see eye to eye, so why is he so fixated on the fact that you got along so well with everyone else?

Note: this was originally going to be for my year of flowers, but it got way too long and i thought it was best split into 2 parts anyway. an anon also asked me for an enemies to lovers fic with crosshair while i had already started this one, so i hope they enjoy it as well!

Clone Troopers Masterlist

Crosshair disliked the new addition to the team, and he was in no way subtle about it. He had only recently returned to his brothers after a short stint with the Empire, and he was shocked to learn that the squad had all but adopted a nat-born while he was gone. It was even more shocking to learn that you had apparently been a Jedi, because he thought they had all been wiped out after the clones’ inhibitor chips were activated. Sometimes he caught himself wondering what had happened to you and how you survived, but then you two almost came to blows over something stupid and he angrily tried to convince himself that he didn’t give a kark what your life was like before now.

But he did care, and it drove him crazy.

He remembered waking up after the procedure, Wrecker and Hunter had to all but stun him before he allowed them to scan his brain and the truth finally came out: that he had lied about removing his chip. At the end of it all, he was glad to have it taken out of his head, but he was incredibly wary of the woman whose stare made him want to shrink back into the nonexistent shadows on that sunny Kamino platform.

He hadn’t bothered to ask who you were when they were trapped under the sinking wreckage of the city they were supposed to call home, there were much more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. And once it was discovered that Crosshair’s chip was still active, you disappeared from his view, and he didn’t find out that you were a Jedi until after he had woken up.

He remembered Shaak Ti on Kamino, he knew the reputation of the Jedi as calm and level-headed peacekeepers (and even every once in a while when his squad worked with a Jedi did they act like that), but you were unlike anything he ever expected. He thought Skywalker was the only exception to the rule, but it turned out there was more than one like him.

“Get out of my way,” he had snarled as he pushed by you on his way to the cockpit the first time he had truly spoken to you, after he noticed that you were staring at him. The bandage on his head proved that he was no longer an uncontrollable threat to your life, but it didn’t suddenly make him a pleasant person. He told himself that he wasn’t unsettled by the glare you shot him in return, but he was lying.

From that moment on, it didn’t matter who started it, the other would respond with something just as volatile. Insults were slung like grenades, and the rest of the team was lucky that they didn’t have the same effect, or there wouldn’t be much of the Marauder left.

“What the kriff is your problem this morning, toothpick?”

“The same problem I deal with every day, darling. Your grating voice.”

“Well that wouldn’t be so much of a problem if you just kept out of my business, you know.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he paused, taking the time to shoot an extra icy glare in your direction. “This ship isn’t that big.”

“Really? I hadn’t even thought about that, thanks for the lesson.”

He had just opened his mouth to respond with something equally brash, but Hunter stepped into the room. “Guys, knock it off. Some of us are trying to get work done, so stop your bickering or I’ll leave you behind next time we stop somewhere.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

Crosshair laughed, and something akin to a soft snort left his mouth. “Trust me, he’s an expert at leaving people behind.”

He left the room after that, and headed to the cockpit for a while, not even bothering to listen to the way that Hunter reacted to his little jab. Maybe it was a low blow, but he didn’t care.

***

Crosshair soon learned for sure that it was just him that you acted prickly and standoffish with. You smiled and pointed out different types of plants and animals to Omega as you traveled from planet to them, you ate breakfast with Wrecker every morning, you shared quiet conversations with Tech as the ship hurtled through hyperspace, and you learned what Hunter’s favorite sweets were, making sure to pick some up whenever you saw them. Hells, you slept in Echo’s bunk with him, because there were only so many beds on the ship, and now that Crosshair had returned, some things had to be shifted around.

He didn’t understand why he cared so much about where you slept, but he didn’t want to think about it. He tried to nonchalantly ask Tech why you were sharing with Echo, and that conversation only made his feelings more confusing.

“Is Echo really comfortable sharing his bunk with her?”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Tech had responded, not looking up from the control panel he was fiddling with. “He was the one who came up with this arrangement when you returned to the ship, as she had worked closely with him and his company on many missions before he was captured and taken prisoner all that time ago. And you should be grateful that he offered, or otherwise, you’d be sleeping on the floor until we could get you a hammock from Cid.”

What? That was not the answer he was expecting. He knew that logically it didn’t make sense to leave his bunk open when he was no longer part of the team, but he didn’t even consider the fact that you used to sleep where he did now. “Is everyone else really fine with her?”

That question finally got his brother to look up at him. “Crosshair, you are the only one she acts different around. She’s friendly with the rest of us because we aren’t rude and diminishing to her on a daily basis.”

“I-” Crosshair started to respond, but Tech cut him off.

“I don’t know what you were expecting honestly,” he said. “First of all, she has just lost her home, family, and way of life, and on top of that she’s being hunted down simply for surviving. Maybe she would have put up with your osik before all that, but now I don’t blame her for pushing back. Even though the inhibitor chip is no longer in your body, you’ve done nothing to show her that you’re any different from the man who tried to kill us in the name of Empire.”

This conversation was not going where Crosshair wanted it to. All he wanted to know was why the rest of the team got along so well with you, and now Tech was telling him that this whole thing was his fault?

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“I do not know Crosshair, that is your responsibility to figure out.”

Unsurprisingly, Crosshair took no initiative to change his situation, and instead continued to antagonize you whenever the two of you crossed paths. Since the ship wasn’t that big, it happened an estimated two to three times a day, and the rest of the batch were growing tired of the arguing. No one ever directly approached him and told him to knock it off, but it was clear that an attempt to limit the amount of times that you and him crossed paths was being made.

This week, he estimated that he had seen you twice, and both times you had simply thrown a glare in his direction and continued on your way. But just because you didn’t trade insults with him these past few days, it didn’t mean that you were gone from his head. The Havoc Marauder had been traveling through hyperspace, and each member of the batch was assigned a four hour shift where they were the one watching the cockpit. Twice had he returned from his shift at the front of the ship to see you and Echo cuddled up together in your shared bunk, and a feeling that he couldn’t quite explain bubbled in his stomach.

Jealousy, the logical part of his brain told him, there was no other explanation for the way his insides twisted when he saw you like that. But there was no way that could be true, because Crosshair had never felt anything for you but contempt and annoyance. He could care less who you spent your time with, or at least that’s what he told himself.

Right now he was laying in his bunk, tossing and turning as he tried to get his mind to quiet down enough so he could sleep, but nothing was working so far. He didn’t want to look over at Echo’s bunk, he didn’t want to be in this room right now, he didn’t want to be on this ship right now. Things were so much simpler before the end of the war, when he was just a soldier traveling with a few of his brothers, not a fugitive traveling with a Jedi and little kid.

Eventually, he drove himself crazy laying in his bunk, so he climbed down as quietly as possible and headed to the cockpit. He wanted to get one of the canteens of water that were stored under the main dashboard of the ship, and if whoever was keeping watch wanted to get a little shut-eye, he could watch everything for a little while. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him that you were the one keeping watch right now, the galaxy clearly had a penchant for torturing him with situations like this.

“Is everything okay?” you asked him as he walked in.

“Everything’s fine,” he said flatly. “I just came in here for a canteen of water.”

You nodded and turned back to watching the blue streaks of hyperspace pass by the ship as Crosshair grabbed a canteen. He hovered awkwardly by the door as he tried to decide whether or not he wanted to ask you whether or not you were tired. After a few seconds though, the decision was made for him when you broke the silence. “Forgive me for asking such a personal question to someone who clearly hates my guts, but are you sure you’re okay? I can tell something is bothering you.”

He was caught off guard for a second before he remembered the Force, the thing he wasn’t sure he believed in but had seen various Jedi employ during the years he and his brothers went on one-off missions with them. You seemed genuinely concerned for him, so he decided to answer your question truthfully. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

You nodded. “Do you want to sit out here for a little?” you asked. “I find that the hypnotic effect of hyperspace sometimes helps calm my worries.”

“Alright,” he said as he sat down, voice notably quieter than it usually was. But there was only so many times he could take sips of water from the canteen before the stillness of the cockpit became too much for him, so eventually he broke the silence. “I don’t hate you.”

“Hmm?” you asked, turning to look at him with an inquisitive look on your face. “What do you mean?”

“You said it was clear that I hated your guts, but that’s not true,” he clarified. “I’ve had a lot of things to deal with since they removed my chip, and I unfairly took it out on the one person I didn’t recognize on the ship. I suppose you may hate me, but I don’t hate you.”

“I think we’re both in similar spots right now,” you said. “So much has changed since the end of the war, and I lost so many people that I was close with. When I started traveling with your brothers and sister, I found a place where I felt like I could belong, and then you came back, and I was worried that I’d be cast away because the ship was only so big. I don’t hate you either, no matter how much you got on my nerves.”

This was the real you, Crosshair realized, not the woman who slung insults at him like grenades, who always had a sharp retort locked and loaded for when he said something snarky. He remembered what it was like when Order 66 was delivered, how half of his brain was completely ready to kill that padawan while the other half desperately tried to keep him from pulling the trigger. He had spent enough time with his brothers again to understand the feeling of being hunted, and for you it must have been so much worse.

He didn’t say anything as he processed your words, and eventually you spoke once more. “What do you say we call a truce between us? I’m not asking you to be my best friend, but I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, the words coming out of his mouth almost instantly. “I can agree to that.”

And for the rest of the night the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, watching the blue streaks of hyperspace pass you by.

- end of part one -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x you #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #crosshair fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

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blurbios · 11 months

Text

Trapped

cw: alcohol, a bit suggestive

other: fem! reader, dialogue heavy, dabi is pushy again

chapter three of a birthday outing

As the night went on you tried your best to be in the moment with your friends. You hadn’t realized how much you had to drink until it ran right through you. “Ume!” You tapped her on the shoulder. “I need to pee.”

“Okay? Then go, I think it’s over there.” She pointed you to the neon restroom signs.

“Come with me, please.” You tugged on her hand.

“I can’t, I gotta make a move on Yuki before I give in and get drunk.”

“It’ll be quick.” You tried to convince her.

“If it’ll be quick, then I’m sure you’ll be fine, y/n.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You stood up to make your way through the crowd.

“Love you, too” Ume chimed as she waved at you. As you weaved your way through the bodies occupying the club, you felt the heavy gaze of the stranger fall upon you once again. You didn’t even know where he was, but you knew he was just watching you like it was some weird game. No matter where you went, he knew exactly where you were. You had to wait in line for the bathroom and Dabi took his chance to finally pounce.

“Hey, excuse me, miss.” He tried to sound kind.

A jolt of panic shot through your body as you turned to see who it was talking to you. ”Hi, sorry, have we met?” He could barely hear you over the music, but that didn’t matter.

A grin crept onto his face. “No and you don’t need to. Listen, today’s my buddy’s birthday.” He looked down at you, to make sure you were listening. When his azure gaze locked with yours you felt the panic resurge as you nodded along. “He’s a real loner type, so I was wondering if a doll such as yourself would help make his night.”

You broke eye contact when you saw that the line had moved in your peripheral, much to your relief. “Sorry, not interested.” You quickly squeaked out as you moved past him and into the safety of the bathroom. He lifted his hand to yank you back, but managed to stop himself. He stood there for a moment contemplating just following you in, but he remembered that he couldn’t cause a scene because Toga had promised they’d be on their best behavior. He didn’t want to ruin his friend’s night, after all and he was just so close to having you where he wanted. You used the bathroom and promptly washed your hands. As you exited the bathroom you turned directly into him, falling into his trap.

"There you are." He caged you between his body and the wall. "As I was saying, you don't have to sleep with him or anything, just talk to the poor guy."

"Again, I'm not interested. Please, just leave me alone." You shook your head.

"All you gotta do is make the guy smile." He roughly grabbed your chin and and jerked your face up to look at him, his blue eyes piercing into you. "You can do that, can't ya?" He breathed into your face. You tried to push him away, but he was an immovable object. He chuckled at your meek attempt at getting away. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you alongside him to their table. "You better play nice." He pushed you into the booth next to the boy in the black hoodie that was still fixated on his phone. Then he sat on the edge of the seat, trapping you once again. You looked around at the strangers sitting around the table and felt yourself growing more anxious by the minute. You glanced over to your table and saw Ume and Yuki talking, at least somebody was having a good time. You wished someone would look at you and see the fear in your eyes, but nobody cared, nobody noticed. Nobody except Dabi, of course, who still had that grin on his face as he watched you struggle to find your footing. He was so proud of himself and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

a/n: oh brother, this chapter is a bit short, but I feel like if i continued with the next chunk the chapter would end up being huge lol sorry it took so long, my brain has not been cooperating as of late, pero we will work through it. i'll prob try to get another chapter out before june because the first week of june i won't be able to come on here. hope you're all doing well as always x ALSO I PROMISE TOMURA AND THE READER WILL INTERACT NEXT CHAPTER LMAO

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jadequarze · 6 months

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Jade, Jade I have a favour to ask: can you info dump about Dungeon Meshi? Work is going tits up and I was hoping for something to look forward to after my shift is over. Pretty pls?

Let me try because it's so hard not to spoil TOO much.

Dungeon Meshi is a manga about a group of adventurers who had a big fall when they were up against a red dragon and one of theirs (Falin) is killed/eaten. Once they manage to escape, the brother (Laios) wants to go back and save his sister. However, some of the members left because it's not worth the risk. Unfortunately, they don't have the golds to but supplies that then leads to the MC suggesting they should kill monsters to cook them. Who actually genuinely wants to eat monsters. He manage to convince them. Then, they meet with Senshi, who knows how to cook monsters and despite the other members reservation, enjoys the food Senshi cooked. This is a very brief summary but yeah. The running theme is going to be this, food.

The whole manga revolves around food. It starts with food and ends with food. Ryoko Kui is on point when it comes to the themes she made in the manga and it doesn't taper off. The manga have a lot of fun bits in and there are times where it's serious for character development. Like, it's a nice balance of fun and serious if that makes sense. It's not too overwhelming with information and you can see how it progresses and not feel like it gives you whiplash. It tends to end the day when the group stops to eat and gives them a chance to talk/ contemplate on what had happened hence, character growth. Eating together is the main core of the manga. Moreover, to me especially, Ryoko Kui doesn't focus too much on any romantic subplots. There are a few tease for Falin/Marcille, but other than that, it's not her main focus. You can ship them but don't expect too much of it and honestly, I don't mind at all. I didn't read this manga for romantic subplots, I just love the world building and the individual characters themself. Despite being really horny, like legit horny, it's not in a sexual way kind of horny. It's more to horny of eating or being eaten. This post is better at explaining it than I could.

Characters summary:

You have an autistic MC, Laios, who is really fixated on monsters. He has a sister, Falin, who died saving the group from the red dragon. They both live a really hard life as Falin is the only one who is magically-inclined leading to their parents keeping her under a tight leash. The way they treated Laios, especially his dad, is bad because he's not like other 'normal' children.

A cringe fail half elf girl, Marcille, who has nightmares of people leaving her due to her long life expectancy.

A divorced short dad, Chilchuck, who gets treated as a kid because he's short and looks young (especially in early chapters but eventually tapers out as they grow together). He's a half-foot (a halfling in dnd terms).

You have Senshi the dwarf (the one who has the fanservice, you'll know why soon enough). He's the cook of the group.

Finally, honestly my favorite character, you have a cat girl, Izutsumi. She appears later in the manga though. She's not the typical overly cute cat girl you usually see in medias nowadays. She's the legit cat girl, as in she acts as a cat. Moreover, as the manga progresses you can see Chilchuck taking her under his wing and basically becomes her adopted dad (which is really cute).

Again, this is really a really brief summary of the characters. There's more depth to them but I'm not saying too much. Avoiding spoilers as best as I can. The ending, THE ENDING IS SO ON POINT AND ACTUALLY FEELS FULL!!!1 The main plot has ended but that doesn't mean it ends fully because it's been mentioned that Ryoko Kui will be writing/drawing epligoues for the characters after the main plot. Which is awesome.

Here's a couple post that I think can articulate better on why I fucking love this manga:

#asks #Anonymous #im trying so hard to info dump but my brain cant word good #oop i info dump too much #this is WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LET ME INFO DUMP #THIS MANGA CONSUMES ME!!#now that the manga has ended you can take your time enjoying it without waiting for new chapters #dungeon meshi

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battiegutz · 10 months

Text

ok still not able to draw turts rn but i am gettin a bit of th fixation back so heres some rise headcanons;

donnie is average at best at video games but will play them for hours (the purple game was designed for him so im gonna say that it was specifically designed so he could beat it) meanwhile leo is cracked at games but will get distracted and switch between like 8 games within half an hour

mikey will often serve food for his brothers at different stages during the cooking process to accommodate their sensory issues and allergies, raph and him are usually the only ones who eat the "fully completed" recipe

raph hates cooked vegetables and thinks all vegetables should be crunchy as god intended. he has also eaten an entire watermelon in one bite before (with great difficulty)

leo and donnie convinced mikey that freddy fazbear was real when they were little but splinter made them apologize after mikey had a nightmare abt him appearing in the sewers and cried to raph abt it. donnie initially refused to apologize because "thats stupid the water down here would mess up his circuits" but mikey cried again and he felt rlly bad abt it

leo got into medicine because of april, one time when they were kids playing in the sewers she fell and scraped her knee and since she was like idk 6 and 6yr olds are stupid she started wailing and was like "the poopy water down here is gonna infect my cut and then theyre gonna cut my leg off and i wont be able to see you guys EVER AGAIN" nd leos like. WHAT!!!! just wholeheartedly believes her and donnies in the corner trying not to throw up. she was fine she just went home and washed it and got a bandaid but th turts were so scared bc she was like a day or two late to their usual playdate nd they thought she died. leo asked for "healing books" on his next birthday

mikey saw ppl getting duct taped to the wall online nd thought it was so cool he asked raph to do it but they had to have him face against the wall to not harm his shell and halfway thru he was like "this suck actually let me out" nd raph was like "no lol" nd left him up there for a while

leo fully believes quicksand is a common problem he will have to face

they would film their own "youtube videos" as kids bc they wanted to join in on the whole youtuber craze but didnt post them anywhere for obvious reasons. april had a great time showing them to jr post-movie despite all their embarrassment

they tried the ice bucket challenge on mikey and he almost went into brumation

donnie thought spongebob was real as a little kid and was super mad at splinter for like a day when he told him it wasnt

mikey will climb on top of raphs tail and have him drag him along (alligator tail raph real) raph will sometimes swish his tail and mikey has to hold on for dear life

#silver spills #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt headcanons #idk #goofin

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animation-is-my-jam · 8 months

Note

What are your favorite ships? What are your favorite headcanons? Ramble on, please do. What are your hot takes?

Thank you for the ask (^w^) AW I appreciate it!

Favorite ships?

Well my two favorite ones are on my header and looking through my art it's pretty easy to tell 💀 so yeah it's Tjohnson and Tobecky, however there are other ships I do consider favs, like Doctor Two-brains x Professor Tubing, Victoria x Rose, and Chuck/Whammer. To mostly name them. I think they're all so sillay 🥹

Favorite Headcanons?

Oh Lexicon I have a lot of them... but to be brief I'll name some of them, ones either I have myself or others coined:

- Doctor Two-brains (Steven), Professor Tubing, and Professor Doohickey all used to know each other before.

- Becky (Wordgirl) is technically an orphan from Lexicon which is why there is no external family who has yet come to search earth, or why Becky and Bob don't really care about returning back to Lexicon.

- Jewish Johnson and Jewish Two Brains

- Rose is half Hispanic

- Theodore McCallister the second is real and he's the worst, he and Claire haven't technically divorced, he's just gone somewhere.

- Tobey was fixated on space/aliens before he pivoted into robots.

- Captain HuggyFace (if that even is his name on Lexicon) probably has guilt over something back home which is why he's resigned to look after this random kid on earth and why he cries over the picture with his brother thinking about him.

- No one is straight (except--[insert characters I don't like])

- Trans Fem Becky

- Ms. Davis has gone through three divorces at least.

- The narrator secretly has been trying to get Tobey redemption to happen (this is a theory more than HC but you get it).

- Victoria and the Bests are experiments or at least half-human experiments.

- There are planets based on every educational curriculum/school structures.

- TJ can understand Bob (somehow)

- TJ's camouflage powers isn't a gag.

- The learnerer is half Lexiconian.

- Beatrice and Dave have known each other since highschool.

- Afro Latina Becky

- Johnson is actually his last name, his full name is Joshua Johnson but ppl are just used to calling him by his last name thx to TJ.

- Hunter and Victoria are in a fake relationship, WLW and Bi solidarity and hostility.

- Tobey during the months leading up to "By Jove you've wrecked my Robot" where he was convinced Becky was Wordgirl he developed a crush on Becky and after the episode it never really went away.

- TJ and Johnson by the later seasons are boyfriends but in a "playing house" kind of way, not yet really official or knowing what that means. By the last season, they "break it off" but it's clear they both like each other but TJ is trying to deny the allegations 🏳️‍🌈 and it's all so dumb that it definitely will bite them both in the future.

- Rex actually ran away from his home planet and not just exploring. For what reason? Anything is interesting, but for me I said it was because he really wanted to play superhero but Hexagon is a serious place so they discouraged him, leading him to play dress up very seriously. Probably has gone to other planets being Kid math with not do great results.

- Rose's family takes in Rex.

Hot takes?

I don't really have that many spicy hot takes or at least I don't know if they would be considered as such, but here are some ig.

- The upset over there being too many Tobecky centric fics in the Wordgirl fanfiction space is silly and dumb. Shipping fics especially for a popular ship is naturally going to have a lot of works and getting upset over it is not that serious, and it's disheartening to put down other's passions to writing a fic just because its what's available.

- I don't think Doctor Two-brains is that interesting anymore (to me), or at least I think he gets too focused on more than Becky sometimes, especially when it comes to their previous mentor relationship. Personally I like him more as a tragic yet still continuing to be a goofy guy who doesn't care what he's become and just wants to live his best life, RIP Steven. Oh and I don't buy into the whole he would be a better dad/parent to Becky or Tobey. That whole elitist Dad brains mentality has unfortunately turned me off to most of the idea of the villians and WG being a found family, to me I like their dynamic (when they're not fighting) more as friendly acting buddies/coworkers.

- Granny May> most of the other villians. ( I'm sorry but my queen does not deserve this disrespect).

- The Becky/Wordgirl is ambiguously ethnic or isn't at all bc she's technically an alien (and for any person to insert themselves into her) has always been dumb and I think let's some people get away with white washing the hell out of her.

- The show itself...has a real poc character problem ngl. Not on its representation or I think there's anything offensive no. I mean more like...the Botsfords are painfully written by someone who has never seen anything but a white family interact AND the casting choice of literally almost every poc character being voiced by a white VA except Cree Summer and two of the May I have a word kids, is like 🫤. Which is why if there were ever to be a hypothetical reboot I personally don't want most of the old VAs for those characters, like Tom Kenny I love you but you absolutely should not have been TJ for as long as you did 💀

- Chuck is right, crustless bread is inferior. #teamcrust

- I hate to think that this is a hot take but I recently had someone complain about this... CLAIRE IS NOT AN ABUSIVE MOM THERE. Do I think she's a flawed woman with her short comings? Yes... that's what makes her so damn interesting and good. God forbid moms are anything but the ideal non-stressed; never angry, gentle soft spoken archetypes. And I absolutely know it's also bc she's depicted strong and buff that warrant ppl to just point and go (abusive!!), like idk if anything she's incredibly lenient to a kid who literally destroys buildings every week and even supports him sometimes.

- Possessive/Yandere Tobey jokes or headcanons aren't funny. If anything they really make me cringe and uncomfortable. Like normies have one joke about Tobey and it's the unfunniest thing.

- Scoops is a good character. If you're asking if this is a hot take, kinda yeah. Some ppl find him annoying or meaningless after the early seasons, but idk I like him. I think he's silly :⁠-⁠P. Oh and same with Rose, I know ppl joke that's she's some random OC/self insert Mary Sue BUT THOSE PPL DON'T HAVE TASTE, ROSE IS THE GOAT.

(^^ That's the ones I could come up with. Obviously no ill will on some of these takes, especially on the DTB one, it's mostly my ideas and what I think either gets overlooked. However the hot takes on Claire and Tobey tho, those ones I'm actually going to be hostile on. But yeah some of them are serious others aren't. It's just what it is.)

Again thanks for the questions! I hope I didn't just get you to block me lmao.

#wordgirl #tobecky #becky botsford #wordgirl fandom #jam gets killed by the WG fandom in 3 2 1-

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ererokii · 2 years

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hello aimeelyn 😈

may i request some love confession hcs with eren? i miss him sm 💔 maybe modern au?

ILYSM PLS DO IT

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY <3 I HOPE YOU HAVE AN AMAZING DAY AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

taglist || masterlist

in your junior year of high school, eren realizes he has feelings for you, he immediately went into doubt. what if you didn’t feel the same way about him? you guys grew up together, what if you only saw him as a brother? or if your friendship is ruined? he couldn’t imagine what would happen, so he decides to keep it to himself.

of course, eren isn’t the best at hiding things. his other friend, Armin, grew suspicious of him when the brunette was suddenly acting awkward with you out of nowhere. he studied his expressions, body language and listened to his voice, watching out for sudden voice cracks or nervousness and thus, confronts him on his weird behavior.

eren has no way out (especially since his ears turn red when he lies) and has no choice but to tell the truth about his feelings. Armin already had a feeling, yet felt happy when his friend finally admitted it

“Y-You knew?”

“Of course i did, our entire friend group knows, well, except Y/N.”

and they came up with a ‘plan’ but in reality, it was just armin trying to encourage his friend.

eren decided to tell you the day before spring break. he thought it was best since he would have a week to sulk in his room and no face you until school was back in session.

he found you exiting the library after school and right when he saw you, he felt his throat tighten and his cheeks heat up. if it hadn’t been for you calling out to him and waving, he would’ve turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction.

and he ends up in the current situation, walking you home from school. he did this on a daily basis, but this time was much more nerve wracking than he can remember.

“eren?” your voices calls out to him, eyes fixated on the male who seemed to be too tense. “are you okay?”

he jolted in place, clearing his throat and looking at you quickly. “yeah, of course I’m okay! why wouldn’t i be okay? do i not look okay?”

“uh..kinda? you seem tense or like something is on your mind. it seems like I’ve been doing the talking this whole time. am i bothering you? do you not like walking me home or something? it’s okay I won’t get mad.”

“no!” he suddenly shouts, murmuring an apology when he notices the look of shock on your face. “no, that’s not it at all.”

“then what is it? Because you don’t sound really convincing..”

eren licks his lower lip, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. he lets out a sigh, his heart beat ringing in his ears, the sound drowning out the passing of cars just down the street. can he really do this? is this really the best choice?

“Look Y/N.. I’m being serious it’s not that at all. It’s something else.”

The facial expression you had was enough for him to continue.

“the truth is.. I had some time to think about it and..” he trailed on, averting his gaze. “i like you.” he blurted.

“I’m sorry if me saying this ruins our friendship but I just wanted to get it off my chest because I.. I love you. you’re an amazing person and truth is, i feel like myself when I’m around you. I just feel as if your personality goes great with mine and you’re the only person I ever felt this close with. I love being around you. I love hearing you talk about things you saw on the internet or the gossip you hear on campus. I love your laugh, I love the way you get embarrassed when a snort comes out. I love the way you get shy. I love how you don’t take shit from anyone, including me. I love you just as you are, you’re absolutely perfect.”

your jaw went agape, your mind suddenly going blank. the few seconds of silence was enough for his brain to register that it was a rejection.

he closed his eyes, breathing through his nose and nodded. “i get it, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. if you don’t want to see me or talk to me anymore after this, I understand that as well.”

still silence.

“hello?”

nothing.

“are you going to say anything?”

“i like you too.”

he gasped, eyes and mouth wide open. “you like me too?”

a laugh slipped past your lips as you nod, twiddling your thumbs, eyes watery at the heart warming words he just told you. “I do yeah.. i was actually going to tell you during break, it sounds like a coincidence huh?”

“an amazing coincidence.”

t.l: @sleepysnk @reddriot @kaqinq @tamasoft @spike-this-ass @crimsonbows-and-arrows @squidonmywall @thicmitten @bakuhoesworld @sweetdanbear @jeanbabygirl @katsuhera @erengojo @novvabeam @vinooh @simpingfor2dguys @panicatthe-crybaby @jaegerverse @dkeela @wonhyuksstuff @nichmeddar @erenjaegersimp @mysticalchocolate @frassycassy @lee-known

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren imagines #aot imagines #snk imagines

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dongpound · 4 months

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i demand to know more of your oc's (also im trying to catch up on your space au fic its been so long since i last read it)

OH MY GOD IT DIDNT GET EATEN BY TUMBLR

Anon™️ I’m using your ask as like a sticky note of oc ideas specifically Tundra dude there’s SO much I’m so sorry I got into the hyper focus zone

Tundra’s name is actually Alejandra Citlali Osorio-Cruz and through the series she’s just about to turn 16 in season 1 and roughly 19-20 by Season 5 (give or take how the fuck you think time works in 2012 bc I think it takes place over 3-4 years season 5 included)

Tundra came about as a nickname when she was a kid and got super hyper-fixated on professional wrestling and like. She made an entire persona and lore. Alec started using her wrestling name as a silly nickname and it stuck.

Yes I did come up with a stupid cute reason behind the name Tundra bc I can not handle the fact I chose such a BAD oc name for a LION but like I can’t change it NOW!! I MADE HER IN LIKE 2015 SHES TOO OLD TO CHANGE IT

Xever did just think for the longest time Tundra WAS her name. He also just assumed that Alec and Chris adopted a child for fun.

Her bio parents Ixchel and Alejandro were really good friends of Alec and Chris for like. Well over a decade. Ixchel and Alec especially. Ixchel was an actress (like I would say their worlds equivalent of Selma Hayek) and Alejandro worked in music production.

They didn’t have a ton of family they kept in contact with, so Alec and Chris were named Alejandra’s legal guardians if anything happened to them. They sadly died in a plane crash when Tundra was around 1.

This feels like SOOOO edgy and silly to me now but like I literally can’t see Alec and Chris adopting a kid any other way than the guilt of losing their friends pushing them to do it. WHICH SOUNDS BAD. AND LIKE IT IS. However they still love and raise Alejandra as their own, if anything Chris is like. Somewhat distant bc he still has his career but Alec’s like “fuck yeah I get to raise a kid again” and kinda slips from the spotlight. Which is fine by them , they’re like 600 years old they can just have messy fun in the public eye another time

Tundra goes fucking THROUGH IT emotionally through the series. Like goes from would do anything for Chris and Alec (especially Chris who. Again. Was distant and she desperately wanted his approval) to the point where like. She’s yknow. Mutated, to growing resentful of them when Hachi enters the picture (especially when she has to take care of him) to like. Low key betraying the foot and joining the mutanimals in season 3. And then having to deal w Chris being resurrected temporarily in season 5 after a really chill and happy 2 years with her mom and little brother like it’s a LOT.

In season 1 she’s very much a “mean girl” stereotype and slowly evolves into Cool And Gay (but still a little better than you)(she. She gets that from her upbringing.)

Tundra and Karai are seen as like a duo/bffs up until season 2 after the whole “I’m not shredders daughter” thing happens. They grow distant (obviously) until season 4.

So like Alec and Chris are NOT the best parents and like. They did totally just let Tundra take Hachi to live w her and the Mutanimals in season 4. She’d already been in space w him for 6 months and the poor kid really didn’t want to go live in the woods. I have such a specific scene in mind for this and I want to write it out so bad. Anyway tundra basically becomes a teen mom for a little bit. Eldest daughters am I right? *plays class of 2013 by mitski*

Tundra has a modified mini van which she does haul all of her friends who can fit in. Apologies to leatherhead and slash . No she doesn’t have a license

She also has a bike. These two vehicles she did canonically find on the side of the highway and she convinced Donnie and Casey to help her fix them

Tundras in a punk (? Maybe more Pop punk ) band called The Muties (my other characters Jack and Spinstra are in it. also Mondo. Sometimes Raph fills in on drums if Spinstra can’t make it). Tundra and Jack switch off on vocals, she’s usually on bass. They started up in the down time between seasons 4 and 5. They play in Moira’s Menagerie (a mutants only bar and hall) every week on Fridays. Alec comes to nearly all of their shows and also they bring Hachi sometimes when they practice and he’ll play his DS.

Alec will also force their friends (I.e. Apep, Anton, Ivan and Xever) to come watch Tundra w the promise of drinks and she thinks it’s embarrassing every fucking time bc they’re SO LOUD and OBVIOUS and god she could just DIE (but also. Having the support makes her happy)

Alec WILL slam back 3 tequila shots and go on about how talented their daughter is.

Chris got to see her play once. And it was when he was resurrected. And Tundra, frankly, was not thrilled. Another one I wanna write

#thanks for reading all that I love Alejandra and she deserves the world #oc tag #I’m a little embarrassed by how much I wrote but I’ve been in a big tundra mood lately

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blade-that-was-broken · 1 month

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HII !! I’m super fixated on ur half life au and was wondering if you had any more notes on viva ( and / or clay) you could share?? :3

Like dude, same. I’ve been focused on finishing the I’m Still Here book but Half Life is literally always at least in the back of my mind. I think it’s cause it is the closest I have to an original concept within my current writing. Like it wouldn’t be super hard to make it an original concept. But anyways…

Let me start with I’m always open to suggestions and ideas - this is an open ongoing concept in general. It’s not a specific story, but more snippets/slices of life. Beyond Breathe Again, it’s mostly just scenes and smaller bitty arcs.

I don’t know if I really have more - I’m open to questions but I can try to expand on the concepts I do have. And I tried to think about Viva a bit during work. I needed my horse kid rep and Clay needed some love. So here we are with some horse kids. I'll try to stick with a bit more Viva.

Peppy and his wife were divorced and had been for a long time. She spent most of the time with her mom, mostly due to the nature of his job. The reason for the divorce is unknown although they seem amicable, even close. Peppy and his wife did reconnect (which ended up with Poppy) but she died before they could get back together.

Viva's horse is named Milkshake (tentative)

At first, Viva rubs Clay the wrong way. They meet at his first drill team practice and she acts like he is new to this (which he is) but Clay wants to be taken seriously and he's competitive. They end up being partnered together because Viva's notoriously picky horse likes Clay's horse.

Viva looks a lot like her mom while Poppy will look a bit more like her dad.

Viva often feels forgotten by her father. With his work, the loss of his ex wife and taking care of a baby, she feels left out. And this is coming from a girl who didn't have a big relationship with him in the first place. And since she is olderish, she is left a bit more on her own.

The first time she really meets John, she apologizes to him for "almost getting him thrown in jail" and eventually it becomes an inside joke for them. Clay doesn't love it but John holds no hard feelings over it.

Eventually she does end up spending a lot of time over at Clay's house when they become more of actual friends. (uncertain of cliva crush or more sibling-like dynamic)

Shows curiosity when she's over for dinner and John and Spruce are cooking together. They do invite her to join at times.

Has been riding for most of her life.

She harbors a lot of internal fear - just not of horses.

Viva loves to sing and dance. When Floyd gets a bit older and starts making his own music, she helps him with other sounds and a female voice when he'd like.

Is convinced her horse and Rhonda would be best friends.

Clay is very wary of her father, knowing he has the power to ruin his, his brother's and JD's new life.

Loves candy necklaces, has more energy than what to do with, and has a thing about capes.

Soft spot for plaids.

Terrified of chickens

Here is just a couple of Clay things (around the horse-thing)

Clay initially learns western riding first but wants to learn English. And then he does. He takes this all very seriously. He does do speed/gymkhana but feels like it's more fun and games and sees English as more "serious". (I'm not saying that is how it is, it's just how he sees it)

Delta mostly teaches him to ride, since she rode horses in her youth as well. He takes on it quick

Black Beauty makes Clay cry and he will come to end up owning three copies at least.

Brandy mostly braids his hair for english shows.

Heard about drill team through the grapevine. Add in Delta's connections and boom - he wants in. He went in 100% not knowing what it really was.

Clay does struggle with feeling like he is the least favorite.

John takes Clay on his first trail ride, trying to show him that nothing everything has to be serious/a competition.

Okay that's all I got for now! I hope you like it though! I really should think more about Viva and Poppy's family; I just haven't gotten around to it much yet. And since Branch is a baby right now and will be for some time, I don't think about Poppy as much. At least for now lol

#ask #half life au

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paradiecircus · 10 months

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~This one is called “2” and it’s another messy one! Obviously, since it’s based off the song 2 by H.E.R. Been having some fun with Bamon lately and I thought it would be funny if Bonnie was found to be a little out of character when Jeremy cheated on her with a GHOST of girlfriend’s past/passed! Of course she and Jeremy aren’t together at this point but this is the moment the Bamon scandal begins, the night after he THOUGHT he kissed Elena. I won’t spoil what’s going on here but reblog if you wanna know what happens next or if you love Bamon! Enjoy this snippet that picks up at the beginning of season 2, thanks!!!~

. . . . . .

Bonnie was about to lose her mind. Friday night, after a long day, and here she was with Damon Salvatore of all people. All he was doing was complaining about how Elena was in denial over her feelings for him and there was no convincing him that maybe she just loved Stefan so fully, she had no eyes for anyone else.

There was no point in telling him that Elena was human, sometimes she did have intrusive thoughts regarding Damon. It would only exacerbate his mission to prove he was the better man for her. How could he know that? He only saw how happy she was with Stefan and wanted that for himself. He couldn’t possibly be sure she’d be happy with him, considering she couldn’t stand him. Stefan made Elena happy during the darkest time in her life. Would kind of best friend would she be if she helped Damon crush that over his fixation that was borderline obsessive? And quite frankly, creepy.

Besides, Bonnie knew Elena, she’d never kiss him. If that actually happened her and Caroline would have already called an emergency girls only meeting. They told each other EVERYTHING.

“Then who’d I kiss, Bonnie?” Damon asked, sitting on the couch adjacent to her. “Those sad, brown eyes, looking up at me. The way she just thinks about all the ways she’s gonna try to let me down easy. That’s how she was looking at me. I couldn’t help it, I had to show her how I feel. I know I’m no good but for her… I love her,”

She threw her hands up. “I don’t know, maybe you were-”

“And don’t say I was drunk, I didn’t hit the bourbon until AFTER she pretended that she never let me put my lips on her,”

Bonnie stood up, exasperated. “You know what? I need a drink,”

“Now you’re thinking, Bennett,” he clicked his tongue and shot a finger gun at her.

If I had just let him burn, she thought, I wouldn’t be neck deep in this pointless debate. Like she told Stefan, it was only because Elena loved him. And Stefan could never truly hate his brother. Big of him because if Bonnie had a vampire sister who kissed her man, she’d have aneurysms until graduation. That was still a year away.

She went to the fridge to grab a beer. “Maybe, you’re just doing a little too much thinking lately. Stop mulling it over. Just look at the facts,” she listed them as she came back to the living room. “Elena is dating Stefan. Elena LOVES Stefan and she would never cheat on him, especially knowing how Katherine manipulated you both,” she grabbed his hand. “It’s time to start getting over them, Damon. Both of them,” he looked down at their clasped hands and cocked an eyebrow.

Bonnie released his hand and realized she forgot the bottle opener. “Damn, forgot the-”

She stood up again when Damon grabbed her arm suddenly. “Let me help you with that,”

Instead of getting up and heading towards the kitchen, he sunk to his knees before Bonnie, who frowned at him. “Uh, Damon? The kitchen ain’t down there,”

He ran his hands up the side of her jeans, pressing his palms into her ass, then moving towards her zipper.

“I’ll give you something better than a cold beer. Something hot,” he unbuttoned her jeans and pulled the zipper down.

Out of sheer panic and genuine shock, Bonnie conjured an aneurysm. Only nothing happened!

“Are you trying to burst the blood vessels in my brain? Tsk, tsk, Bonnie, I’m just trying to take your advice and get over Face 1 and Face 2,” he slowly slid the pair down her legs.

“But… I thought you said you loved her,” Bonnie didn’t understand why she was letting him take her pants off, much less why she was willingly stepping out of them for him. It made even less sense that he was guiding her to lie on her back on the sofa while he pulled off her underwear. And she didn’t stop him!

“Shh… no more talk about them. Focus on right here, right now,” he looked into her eyes and his pupils widened. He pushed her legs open.

He must have been compelling her! That didn’t make it okay for him to seduce her! “Damon I don’t think we should- ahh… oh! Mmmm,”

“Can I keep going?” He asked after he’d swiped his tongue right down her… RIGHT THERE! He’d licked her RIGHT THERE and now her body craved more.

“Yes!”

He resumed what he was doing until her back was arching up off the couch, her thighs were trembling, and she couldn’t stop crying out in pure ecstasy if she wanted to. Her peak of pleasure was so impactful that it activated her magic again, bursting every lightbulb in the house.

Damon smacked his lips as he pulled away. “Mm, tasty. You’re right, I feel much better now,” he smacked her bottom and stood up. “Well, the mediocre people of Mystic Falls are safe for the night. Thanks to you, Witchy,”

She was still gasping. “G- glad I could… help… ohmm…”

“See ya,” he whistled as he left.

“Ohhhh, Damon, you BETTER not kill anyone,” she murmured as she laid there in the dark. With a wave of her hand, she magically lit the candles on the fireplace mantle.

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maybebecomingms · 2 months

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a decade of repression

February 18, 2024

Lately I've been fixated on this memory of silently sobbing in the dark surrounded by my ex husband and his family. I didn't make a sound so as not to wake anyone up, and I did my best to breathe through the full bodily contractions so I didn't move and cause him to stir inches away from me.

It was February 14, 2020, and everyone had turned in for the night after his brother and his new wife eloped earlier that day at the courthouse. I have no clue why we split a room with his parents and grandmother - we didn't need to save money that badly to completely forego privacy. Anyway, I was never comfortable at a single family gathering of theirs, and I'm sure I was exhausted from another day of heavy masking. I'm sure I was drunk, too. It was the only way to cope.

But mostly I was feeling sad as the day drew nearer to The Dark Day, and I didn't have any outlet. Nobody cared. Now was not the time. That was a long time ago - everyone else has moved on.

I haven't talked much about my dad's death here - after all, that's not why I made this blog. But you can't separate me from this thing that has happened - it's a part of me.

The morning of February 16, 2014 started normally. We made our way to church and stopped for sandwiches after. While in line waiting for them, my ex showed me a text on his phone from my mother: "Please come here when you can." We'd had our phones on silent during the service, and I opened mine to find several missed calls and texts, too. I tried to call back and find out what was going on, but no one would come out and say it - it's not a thing to tell someone over the phone. I knew right away my dad had passed. None of the calls or texts were from him. Seeing the county sheriff squad in the driveway upon arrival confirmed it for me.

The following week was hazy as we wrote an obituary and planned a funeral for someone whose cell phone was still on and ringing, for someone who was feeling under the weather but still went to work the other day.

My world just sort of stopped. But life goes on, and mine did, in a slow and disjointed kind of way. I didn't really talk about it in any sort of meaningful way with anyone. Many church friends went *poof* (which is super common if you ask any evangelical who goes through something difficult). And I couldn't ask my family to accommodate my feelings. They were going through it, too, and my job was always to take care of everyone else. Even now - that's not an option. My ex tried to understand and empathize, but he simply couldn't, and eventually I could tell he just wanted me to "get over it." A few older adults with some perspective tried to get through to me, but I wasn't in a place to receive it. I even went to grief counseling two years later, but my therapist was so busy trying to convince me that having a baby would fix my grieving that I didn't really get to work through said grief.

It was very isolating. Sure, I knew of people who had lost parents to prolonged illness or an accident. I didn't bother them, though - I didn't want to stir anything up, and I wasn't sure they'd get it. My dad was sick with pneumonia, yes, but nobody thought he'd die when he did. He died of natural causes, in his sleep, like you might expect to happen to someone decades over. He had chronic illnesses society nonchalantly calls "lifestyle diseases" and yes, a series of poor lifestyle choices caught up with him. Those poor choices impacted me for most of my life, too. How do you even explain that to someone?

My partner also lost his dad when he was in his late 20s, and both of our dads were 58 when they passed. It's not my story to tell and it wasn't an identical situation, but it was weirdly similar in a lot of ways. I've always thought no one could ever possibly begin to understand this thing and the complicated dynamics surrounding it, but if anyone does, it's him.

We didn't exactly talk about it at great length this weekend, but we did go visit. Mid-February in northern Minnesota typically would NOT be the time to go to the cemetery, but this winter is anything but typical. It was actually the first time I've ever gone there and found the grave by myself. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to do it!

But I did, and it felt like the right thing to do after a decade of holding back at all costs.

#death #grieving #death of a parent #cemetery

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chamomileharry · 2 years

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hii, how are you? i was wondering if you had any fic where one of them is deaf? and they use sing language? tysm<3

hi friend! here are the ones i have (: hope you enjoy <3

as always, please read the tags and remember to leave kudos and a nice comment for the author! if you have any requests, feel free to ask please, I'd love to help in any way! any recommendations you may have are also welcomed! <3

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ✩ Fingers Crossed (5k) // Moriartied

"Harry's been deaf since he was born. Louis is newly graduated after studying sign language, and Harry hires him to translate for all the classes he'll be attending. It's Harry's first year at a uni for non-deaf people and Louis takes it upon himself to help Harry feel like he belongs. Along the way, he gets close with Harry's group of friends and even closer to Harry." ✩ A Little Too Much (5k) // toritastic11

Harry Styles wasn’t born deaf. He didn’t plan on being deaf either, until life reared it’s ugly head nine years ago and the cards fell where they did. Some would say he’s coping as best as he can, his sister calls him bitter, and his mum wishes he would smile more, but being a morose poet seemed to click for a moping Harry, so a morose poet he became.

Alternately; Harry's a depressed poet and Louis is the sun that helps him come alive again.

✩ Worth a Thousand Words (7k) // TheIfInLife “Look, I’m learning some new stuff!”

My name is Louis. My favorite color is green. I like movies. Do you know sign language?

Harry huffed grumpily. Why are you learning sign language?

“Because, I want to be able to talk to you.” Louis looked small, gripping tightly at the steering wheel.

Why?

You’re my friend. Louis signed shakily, having to try it a few times before getting it right. And well, Harry just snapped.

We’re not friends. I don’t know what makes you think that we’re okay but we’re not. You stopped being my friend once you found out that I went deaf. I don’t know if this is your way of ‘making up for it’ or if you think that hanging out with the deaf guy and learning a bit of sign language is your ‘kind deed’ to the world but I don’t want to be your charity case and I don’t want to be your friend.

or Harry went deaf at 5 years old and Louis just wants the chance be heard.

✩ Whipped Cream (24k) // writingstylinson

Harry isn't focused on anything except growing his online photography business and keeping his service dog at his side. It's important since he's always being undermined due to his deafness.

The last thing Harry needs are his client's brother trying to convince him to go out on a date with him.

[Harry is a deaf photographer in charge of taking Lottie's wedding pictures. Louis is determined for Harry to be his plus one.]

✩ Is it a sign? (25k) // bluegreenish

“Also, I didn’t mean it literally,” Harry continues his rambling, gesticulating to support his point. “You don’t owe me a beer and I surely don’t expect you to buy me anything, it was just to start a conversation but you’re obviously not interested in that. Which, again, maybe next time an omega, or anyone really, approaches you, you could convey -”

To Harry’s surprise, he’s interrupted by the handsome stranger, who’s been weirdly fixated on his lips the whole time. What a creep!

“You speak so fast, I can’t read your lips like this.”

What? Harry’s frown deepens and he just stares at the man, waiting for him to explain. Because why the hell would he need to read Harry’s lips? They’re not in some detective movie.

The man rolls his eyes at Harry’s obvious lack of understanding.

“I’m deaf,” he huffs and points to his ear.

And oh. Yikes. That’s kind of embarrassing.

or, the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

#chamomileharryficrec #my asks #answered ask #larry fic rec #deaf character #use of sign language

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translationandbetrayals · 2 years

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Fullmetal Alchemist: My Personal Experience

“Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost”.

How important are those who you love? What is it you are willing to do if anything ever happens to them? What is it you are willing to sacrifice for their safety? The power to protect your loved ones has a consistency; it serves a function, and it always comes with a price. Would you give up the gifts, the love, and the life you possess to get what you want? Humans never truly get a grasp of the full effects of what they desire, and that which they long for can end up becoming its own cost. King Midas thought of the golden touch as a great blessing, but it ultimately disposed him of his greatest treasure: his daughter.

There is no such thing as a lesson without pain.

Fullmetal Alchemist is one of if not the best anime/manga to ever make it. Maybe nowadays a claim of that caliber turns out kind of repetitive; and for some, even hilarious, but there are numerous aspects from Hiromu Arakawa’s creation which defend and easily maintain the title the story of the Elric brothers has –respectfully—earned along the years, and will definitely keep on earning. However, these words are not meant to be written for the purpose of showing these amazing series’ characteristics, eventually trying to convince about its greatness, because that has already been done. The real intention here is to share a personal experience regarding both anime adaptations of this story; Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (2009-2010) and Fullmetal Alchemist (2003-2004), and the original manga; Fullmetal Alchemist (2002-2010).

My first entrance to the world created by Arakawa occurred somewhere around 2015, with the latest anime adaptation of the manga; Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. The 64-episode anime series is probably the most recognizable piece of media this story has created yet and was originally broadcast in Japan from April 2009 to July 2010. I absolutely loved the series, and I didn’t hesitate in buying the original manga, which also left me magnified. The story of these two brothers who, trying to bring their dead mother back to life through alchemy, end up with the elder brother; Edward, losing his arm and leg and the younger brother; Alphonse, losing his entire body, had me hyped from beginning to end. That, accompanied with a deep and elaborated political and historical context of the world in which these characters reside, and how this makes you feel like the story and its events were already predestined to happen; in other words, everything in this story connects smoothly and perfectly.

However, that’s regarding only the original manga and the latest anime adaptation. The first attempt in adapting this story to the small screen occurred in Japan, from October 2003 to October 2004, with Fullmetal Alchemist. This adaptation is what we could call the “black sheep” in the franchise, due to it not being faithful to the story told in the original manga and in one point drifting away from it to tell its own tale. This happened because the animation studio behind this series, BONES –which would also be responsible years later for the 2009 adaptation— decided to create an original storyline for what remained of their anime, due to the slow progress from Hiromu Arakawa in the creation of the manga’s story, and also because –maybe the most mature and ungreedy decision I have ever heard of in this industry— they didn’t want to make filler episodes while they waited for the manga to release enough episodes in order to adapt them. I experienced this version after already having watched the 2009 adaptation and having read half through the manga. The truth is that at first, it was pretty difficult for me to catch track of what was happening, due to the typical burn-out feeling when you seriously hyper-fixate with something coming –finally— into myself.

But there was something that kept me going. Although I had already experienced the beginning of the story two times in a two-year span, and I had read everywhere that this series was the “inferior” telling of the story compared to the 2009 adaptation, there was something in this version that made go through the 51 episodes all the way. At that moment and now, almost six years apart, I still believe Fullmetal Alchemist (2003-2004) is in its own right a complete masterpiece; offering a much darker, grittier, and crueler take on the Elric brothers’ adventure. Considering everything that happened during its production, with the team suddenly having to change everything and put an abrupt end to the series, it is still a fascinating story, with an amazing storyline, characters, and setting.

In conclusion, Fullmetal Alchemist and its different versions or adaptations –except the Netflix live-action, thank you very much—were the most important and influential piece of media from this type of art for me, due to them being responsible for making me a full-time fan, and only because of that this series will always have an untouchable position in my already-seen list of anime series. If you haven’t watched or read it, I highly recommend you to, because is what I believe to be one of the most complete and flawless stories of all time.

-Joaquín Romo.

#Anime #Manga #Japan #personalstory #submission

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

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Inevitable (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 6.9k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: Couldn’t stop thinking about how Yang Jungwon’s role model is Jungkook and they have similar features (especially as kids) and the sweetest smiles! Hence, the little angel we have here. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist!

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You stare at the grocery list, eyes squinting to try to read the words you’d half-mindedly written down this morning.

Your boss convinced you to take Friday off when it slipped that Jungwon has been having separation anxiety lately, as he hasn’t spent time with his mother this whole winter break.

You’d been doing overtime - on weekdays and weekends - and your boss, a mother herself, knows that overworking would take its toll on you and your son, especially as a single parent. It’s why you’re here now, grocery shopping with the little one, something he enjoys doing with you, too.

Still, it’s just one day and it’s not really enough to compensate for all the other days you work your ass off at the company, but the pay is good and the people are kind; those have been enough for you to stay the past two years.

A smile forms on your face once you decipher the crooked words on the piece of paper you’re holding up. You can make out the word ‘banana’ right before ‘milk,’ ‘choc’ somewhere near ‘ice cream,’ and ‘bron’ just next to ‘cereal.’ Brown cereal? Did he mean cocoa pops?

Jungwon has improved his writing and vocabulary and you pat yourself on the back for the times you’d forced yourself awake during your Sunday rest time just so you could guide him on his workbook. You congratulate yourself for thinking of showing him flash cards while he scrubs himself in the makeshift tub during bath time. And you thank the heavens for your best friend Taehyung’s bright idea of setting up a blackboard on the wall on Jungwon’s side of the bed so he can doodle until he falls asleep.

“Am I not the best uncle, muffin?” Taehyung had asked the little one then, who always knew what to answer.

“You and uncle Joonie are the best,” Jungwon had said.

Your kid is a ball of fluff, you’d almost think it’s genetic because you definitely are not one, but the other half of him is.

You brush away that thought before your chest begins to tighten. You choose to think that Tae and your older brother Namjoon, whom Jungwon spends the most time with apart from you, are true softies and he’d definitely gotten it from them.

You’re still smiling, insides warming enough to brave through the January cold until you realize that you’re no longer hearing your son’s buzzing sound that he does when he plays with his airplane. For all his softness, he does give you a heart attack every once in a while because of his tendency to scurry somewhere that piques his interest. It was probably the aisle that had those chocolates he wanted so you pick up your basket and rush to the one right next to where you are.

Your heart drops to the floor at the sight of your son standing in front of a man who’s crouching down, tinkering with the toy. It probably disassembled again and this does not earn you a pat on the back this time for forgetting to buy Jungwon a new one that’s more age-appropriate, and for not paying enough attention.

You’re partly shocked and partly curious - he’s a shy kid, tends to run back to you at the sight of an unfamiliar person, wide eyes usually on full display when someone tries to get his attention.

But not right now. He’s still wide-eyed but he’s sporting a shy smile, one he tries to suppress by biting his lower lip. Wonder where he got that from. Such mannerisms aren’t genetic too, right?

The mystery man hands him the toy airplane, which Jungown clutches to his chest. He bows at the man and whispers a ‘thank you.’ If that man wanted to do something bad, he would’ve taken Jungwon already but he hasn’t. You’re glad that at least a kind man has found your son.

“Jungwon, sweetie. Come here, please,” you call out, moving a bit to try to get the man’s attention to express your thanks but he’s sporting a hoodie that’s engulfing his face. Maybe you should’ve been more scared.

The stranger shakily stands up and turns as Jungown runs to you with his eyes not leaving his little toy.

Your eyes, on the other hand, can’t leave the figure standing just a few feet away from you, like a bad dream but that isn’t exactly a nightmare.

He’s here. He’s home. And he looks just as gorgeous as you remember - expressive onyx eyes, pretty thin lips, defined jawline, muscular build...

His own eyes move from you to the kid next to you, trying to come up with explanations, mind reeling at what this could mean. You sounded so tender, so loving, so… motherly.

“Jung—”

“Your—”

You both say at the same time. His eyes are fixated on Jungwon, probably trying to figure out who the child is to you.

“I’m babysitting,” you panic.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something, Jungwon decides to not be shy in front of a supposed stranger.

“Mama, that man fixed my plane!” He excitedly says, and you hate to crush his little moment of joy.

Jungkook’s eyes are now saucer-like, not at all minding that you were caught in a lie but that you, the woman who’d broken his heart all those years ago, have a child. A child whose eyes uncannily and painfully resemble his.

You and Jungkook both seem to be in a daze, your own thoughts swirling in your heads at the situation that neither expected would happen.

You stopped watching his baseball games about two years ago and had avoided whatever news about him would come up. Except recently when you’d heard about him possibly signing with a South Korean baseball team. Looks like did because he’s here, and he hasn’t been in years.

You’d heard from your brother that Jungkook had been doing well with the LA Dodgers and you hadn’t expected that he’d up and leave what had been his home the past four or so years to, well, come home. You’re glad he is but you also aren’t prepared for this.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried his best to forget about you soon after you walked out on him that December evening, almost succeeding multiple times until he gave up altogether. He came home last week, earlier than what he’d told the media, since he knew they’d be hampering him about his homecoming, given his recent signing with the Doosan Bears, one of Seoul’s professional baseball teams.

He’d spent the past few days in Busan to visit his mother and arrived from his 4-hour drive just an hour ago. He’d hoped to reach out or run into you but didn’t expect it to actually happen today. He definitely didn’t expect you’d have a son, too.

“Mama, did you get my banana milk?” Jungwon asks, breaking the bubble of confusion and shock between you and Jungkook, both unbelieving at the reality of you finally being in the same space, breathing the same air after so long.

“Yeah, I—” you start, placing the basket down and picking up your son, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Your mind is a puddle of thoughts and you just know that incoherent words will escape your mouth if you don’t leave right now so you make a run for it, or at least try. You walk briskly, clutching Jungwon tightly with his arms wrapped around your neck, so you don’t see him smiling at the man following both of you.

Jungkook calls out your name, prompting Jungwon to state that the man who’d fixed his plane knows his mother.

There are more people with their pushcarts near the exit, making it hard for your quick escape. Jungkook is catching up and upon realizing you won’t turn back to acknowledge him, he talks to Jungwon instead.

“How old are you, buddy?” Jungkook asks, legs clearly made for this. He’s panting though, you can hear it in his voice.

You can’t make a scene so you just try to walk faster.

You feel Jungwon release an arm and you know he’s putting out the ‘four’ sign, something he likes to do.

“When is your birthday?” Jungkook asks shortly after.

Oh god, you think. Jungwon loves this question. “July 6!” He exclaims.

The footsteps become faint and you’re brave enough to turn back as you near the exit doors. Jungkook stands there, dots connecting, mouth agape at what this means.

You leave the supermarket and run to your car, hurriedly placing Jungwon on the car seat and driving away, willing the tears not to fall.

“Who was that, Mama?” He innocently asks.

You admit that you’d thought about the day you’d see Jungkook and let him know about the little one too many times, but this isn’t how you planned it to happen - in public, when you’re incredibly tired, and when you haven’t thought about what you’d say.

This isn’t how you planned on telling Jungwon, too, so you tell a half-truth, like what you’d done a few times before.

“He’s a friend, sweetcheeks. He’s just a friend.”

The tears eventually fall about 5 hours later.

You got home from the grocery - without your groceries, watched cartoons with Jungwon, had food delivered, then prepared him for bed.

You’re now sat on your couch, wine glass in hand, as you try to make sense of the overwhelming emotions of seeing the man that was once your world. Technically, Jungkook still is, considering that your son is half of him.

But it’s different now. Too much has changed since you broke up with him, since he left 5 years ago to chase his dreams of playing for the Major League Baseball in the US, the dream he’d shared with his father, the dream he’d spent his whole life chasing.

Baseball had always been Jungkook’s world; a given, you always thought, since his own father was a baseball star himself, whose dream of playing for the MLB materialized during a trip to Boston as a teenager, the blinding lights and massiveness of Fenway Park and the roars of the crowd cheering for the Red Sox so alluring that he’d made it a point to watch a live game at least once a year.

His own career as a professional player for the South Korean league had been commendable, leading his teams to championships and even playing for the 1996 Olympics. That had been the second best experience of his life, the first being Jungkook’s birth two years prior. Marrying his wife was a close third, and it was something the pair always laughed about. You know this because Jungkook raved about his parents a lot, used to talk about them like he just lived next door to his mother - whom he called everyday, like his father was still alive.

His father didn’t have the luxury of getting scouted by American teams because baseball wasn’t as big then, but his dream of playing for the MLB never faded. Just like what his own father had done, he’d taken Jungkook to a live game every year since Jungkook was six, and tried to watch in every baseball park of every major league team.

They’d only make it to seven though. By that time, the cancer had been debilitating and he had to give up that annual date with his only child. Watching the Lotte Giants in their hometown of Busan had been enough for 13-year old Jungkook, who’d likewise been fascinated by the game, so was waking up in the wee hours of the morning to still catch MLB games on TV.

Jungkook was 14 when his old man passed.

He rarely talked about his father’s death. He also rarely talked about his father outside of baseball. He was a father-coach, Jungkook used to say, not the scary, stage father type who pressured him but the incredibly supportive, only slightly critical one. He’d made Jungkook fall in love with baseball, made him have a reason to wake up everyday, made him have something work hard for, fight for.

After he passed, baseball became something Jungkook hung onto, something he used to remind him of the man that made him who he is today. It became the most sacred part of himself, not for the popularity it gained him nor the praises he received, but because it showed the best parts of him, which were also the best parts of his father - his self-confidence, his tenacity, his grit, and his resolve, his passion for his craft.

Baseball taught Jungkook the value of hard work, of commitment, of focus, while at the same time reminding him of his physical capabilities and limitations.

It’s why he took his Sports Science course seriously, knowing that until his last breath, he would live for the sport. He’d play until he’s physically able, and do everything else when he can’t.

Jungkook had always been a good leader - another trait he got from his father, served as the pillar of strength of every team he’d been a part of because of his vulnerability that allowed others to trust him, to believe him.

His self-confidence may border on arrogance, his forcefulness and intensity may be perceived as aggression, but behind his intimidating aura on the field - partly personality, partly physical prowess - is a tender human being who gets excited over sweets, gushes over Ironman merchandise, likes making blanket forts, squeals over baby animals, enjoys bear hugs, and who just loves to love.

Those were what made you fall for him in the first place. They were what made your naturally cold exterior dissolve until your heart had become bare for him, until your insecurities had become insignificant, until you’d exuded almost the same joy that he had.

Seeing him today just brought the memories back, as if nothing has changed with what you felt for him, as if the pain you felt when you told him it was over, when you walked out and he let you, was just a breath away.

You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you saw him again, until his proximity reminded you how his laugh used to sound, how his wide eyes and sweet smile looked like, how his sensual touches used to feel.

The tears fall again. That pain, that love - it’s like they never went away.

“Uncle Tete!” Jungwon squeals as your best friend picks up your son from the floor, swinging him around in a circle, soft laughter reverberating through the walls of your cozy apartment. It only takes a few rounds before Taehyung puts him down and complains that his arms already hurt.

“What happened to working on arm exercises?” You chuckle.

“Don’t remind me, you know I hate lifting weights. Plus, like that would make much of a difference,” he exclaims, slim arms out, being swallowed by his sweater. “I’m not an athlete, you know?”

You flinch at the comment and so does he.

“Sorry, too soon?”

“Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes and settling in the kitchen, a bit farther away from Jungwon, whose eyes are now fixated on the TV.

“Hey, I wouldn’t have known Jungkook was back if he hadn’t decided to revive our group chat yesterday after 2 years to ask everyone if they’ve seen you recently because you apparently have a kid and he believes he’s the father.”

“Pretty straightforward, huh?”

“He didn’t wanna waste time. Didn’t even care that your brother is in the same group,” Taehyung shrugs.

“Probably knows Namjoon won’t check.”

“True. But still, how bold of your ex.”

“What did the guys say?” You ask, curious if they ever caught on. Your twice a year appearance since college graduation seemed to be enough for them.

“Yoongi cursed. Jin spammed with theories because he’s convinced you haven’t had a boyfriend in years. Hoseok sent a video message of his reaction, which was really just him freaking out. Jimin acted surprised.”

“And you?”

“I left the group chat.”

You smack his arm, earning you a scowl. “Real smooth, Kim Taehyung.”

“Well, what was I gonna say? ‘Yeah, Jungkook. Your ex-girlfriend was actually pregnant when she broke up with you and you’re totally the father?’”

“You could’ve feigned ignorance, you know, or like denied it until I figured out what to say.”

“___,” he deadpans. “One look at Jungwon and it screams Jungkook. His name isn’t actually subtle, okay? Look at your kid, he even dresses up and eats like the father he’s never met!”

You motion for him to tone it down but Jungwon is busy watching the Avengers cartoons in his Ironman pajamas while sipping his banana milk.

“I’m not projecting!” You say, defending yourself because you know that’s what Taehyung is gonna say.

“It’s not my fault that my kid chose Ironman as his favorite Avenger no matter how many times I pushed Captain America to his face, okay? He didn’t even mind the shield I bought,” you pout.

“And he won’t drink plain milk. If it’s not banana, it’s chocolate. And he loves sweets, loves to hug people, has the cutest laugh…” You sigh, still racking your brain on what parts of your son he got from you.

“Maybe the universe is the one projecting, you know? Like it just had to find a way for Jungwon to be connected to Jungkook, if not physically then by other ways.”

“Your theory is sweet but I doubt it, Tae.”

“My theory is backed by evidence. And a father’s instinct because that shit’s real. Jungkook was still around during those first two months, the bond probably developed then.”

“Jungwon was the size of a raspberry. It’s highly unlikely.”

“Can you just stop deflecting? The father of your son is here. What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know! Get my shit together and figure out what to say? You know I’m not ready for this,” you exclaim.

“Funny that you knew exactly what to say when you broke up with him but now you don’t,” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow.

“Are you my best friend or are you out to get me?”

“I’m just saying. You made that decision all on your own. Didn’t even confide in me,” he pouts. “I could’ve thrown some other options that didn’t require you breaking his heart and yours too, and going through all this by yourself.”

“Except I didn’t go through all this by myself,” you pat his head. “I had you and Namjoon. You were all I needed. Still do.”

“We can never take the place of Jungwon’s father, you know that right?”

“I know, I just… He’s not just my kid’s father, Tae. He’s my ex-boyfriend too. The man I loved.”

“You mean love. The man you still think about, and miss terribly.”

You squint at him as if in question. It’s been years since you and Taehyung had shared an apartment where he’d seen you cry almost everyday. It was something he wasn’t used to because you don’t cry, especially in front of others, not when you found out you were pregnant, not when you walked into Jungkook’s apartment only to walk out of his life. Not when Jungkook skipped graduation and left early for the US.

Everything changed after Jungwon’s birth. It’s like all the tears you never cried decided it was time. And you had years’ worth of it.

“Your kid’s a lot more perceptive than you think. He tells me sometimes that he sees you cry when you’re in bed or when you’re watching TV with him, and why else would you be crying if it wasn’t for that man?”

Of course he does. Jungwon, again just like his father, is thoughtful and pays you a lot of attention. Seriously, what about you did this kid inherit?

“The dam breaks every once in a while, I can’t help it.”

“Now you can,” Taehyung says as he gives you a hug. “You should talk to him. And soon. You know he deserves it.”

Jungkook stares at the ceiling, unwilling to move from the comforts of his bed. Head throbbing from the bottles of SoJu he downed with his older cousin, Jin, last night, the events of the day before are mighty clear in his mind.

He’d really seen you, the woman who once laid residence in his mind and his heart that he could not get rid of no matter how hard he tried, because you’d broken every possible thing you could when you decided to break up all those years ago.

He remembers that night so clearly, how he’d been excited to finally spend time with you so he could ask you to go with him to the US. You chose to break his heart instead, deciding by yourself that it wouldn’t work out. The only reason he agreed was because he’d been too hurt to even think of another way, but whether he agreed or not, he knew you would’ve walked out of his life regardless.

But there you were yesterday, dressed in your favorite-colored down jacket, hair longer than he remembers, little kid in tow calling you Mama.

Mama.

He’d just gotten back in Seoul after a visit to his mother. He’d made sure to be sneaky, as he wanted some peace and quiet before all the interviews and events he’ll need to attend because of this “homecoming” that everybody seemed to be making a big deal out of.

He was doing well with the LA Dodgers, even had meetings and possible offers with the Boston Red Sox, the team his father obsessed over. Jungkook was well on his way for bigger things in the largest baseball league in the world.

He decided to sign with the Doosan Bears instead, not even his hometown baseball team. He’ll chalk it up to missing home, maybe breaking ground so he can play in the Olympics, too, just like his father.

He was gonna seek you out, that was definitely part of the plan. He still considers the breakup as partly one-sided and he wanted to know how you were doing. He also knew he was bound to run into you because there was no escaping your circle of friends, who apparently seemed clueless as well.

Except for Taehyung, obviously, because he’s your best friend and he definitely would’ve known. But you’re here in Seoul, how did you dodge the rest of them? And Namjoon had really been able to keep everything a secret?

There were so many questions. Jin took it upon himself to be his confidante last night because surprisingly, Jimin, his best friend, had been mum about it. Jungkook and Jin spent the rest of last night scouring through social media for any trace of you and that kid but there had been none.

Jungkook is desperate, not just because he wants to see you but the child… looked like him.

The grocery was a few neighborhoods away from his, but it was next to the bank he was in so he decided to just do his shopping then. He’d been going through the sweets aisle, ready to fill the pantry of his new apartment with his favorite snacks, then he heard a thump and a soft quivering voice.

He turned to see a little boy looking sad over his toy airplane whose one wing had been clipped off. An adult didn’t seem to be around and he definitely trusts himself more than any other stranger so he’d approached the kid and asked if he needed help.

Curious doe-eyes met his questioning gaze, until the little kid took the airplane and its broken wing in his arms and cradled them.

“It’s hurt,” the kid had said, and he felt his heart burst at the cuteness and softness of this child. Jungkook took the toy and easily fixed it, the sliding slot probably too hard for his little hands to maneuver. He was about to ask for the kid’s name when he heard a familiar voice call out, the kid looking up and scurrying away from him.

And then there was you.

Everything felt hazy until the kid called you his Mama. You’d picked him up and started walking away before Jungkook could even greet you. He’d seen your abandoned grocery basket, which he could easily pass up as his own because of the same things he’d buy for himself.

The wheels were turning in his head and it wasn’t until the kid, apparently named Jungwon, stated his age that Jungkook pieced everything together. Or at least the possibility.

Could Jungwon be his child?

At the thought of this, Jungkook froze, watched your figure disappear from his sight, the eyes of the child boring into him as you walked away again. The kid let out a small smile and Jungkook had seen enough pictures of himself as a little kid in the news the past few weeks to be reminded of how he looked like, and he looked like that. It was unmistakable.

The scene plays in his head again and Jungkook feels the throbbing of his chest match the throbbing of his head, the need to confirm his suspicions and know the whole truth seeping through his veins. He tries to calm himself down, which is difficult, but he knows he needs a level-head if the truth is what he wants from you.

It’s just past lunchtime and he calls Jimin for help. As he enters the passenger seat, Jimin asks his friend for the destination.

“Take me to Taehyung’s place.”

Jungkook is running on adrenaline. With a sober mind now and a still-aching chest, he’s willing his body to relax but he’s unable, focused only on finding the truth.

There’s concern and an air of acceptance in Taehyung’s face when he opens the door to Jungkook, the idea of him showing up here having something that Taehyung has considered. Jungkook has at least half a mind to reach out to someone else before going to you.

Taehyung welcomes him in, knowing better not to argue or match the other man’s emotions. Jungkook doesn’t ask questions though and instead heads for the refrigerator, bites his lips at the sight of the same brand of banana milk he’d seen in your grocery basket.

He walks around the apartment, not missing the small basket of toys by the window. He opens a room that’s actually Taehyung’s art room and sees a paint set for kids, a framed photo of him with Jungwon placed on a shelf and next to it is a painting, the words “Jeon Jungwon” written at the bottom. It’s all the confirmation that he needs.

“Find what you’re looking for?” Taehyung asks, arms on his waist now, a bit of annoyance seeping through at the disrespect being shown to him. He gets that Jungkook is upset, but Taehyung knows him, knows he’s probably coming up with his own conclusions in his mind.

Before Jungkook could say anything, they hear the front door open, Namjoon’s deep voice calling out.

“Tae, did you get to drop off the groceries at ___’s? Jungwon’s been asking for his milk since yesterday and—” Namjoon stops as he stands by the door, eyes wide at Jungkook standing there, no doubt trying to keep himself together.

“Are you Jungwon’s father now?” He directs the question to Taehyung, the bitterness in Jungkook’s voice not lost on all the men present, including Jimin who’d been having his own battle in his mind because pretty soon, the anger will be directed at him, too.

Jungkook is the kid’s father, he’s sure of it now, yet the thought of another man taking that role causes an ache in his chest.

“Jungwon sleeps here? Does art with you? Does he call you—”

“He calls Tae ‘uncle,’ Jungkook. The same thing he calls me,” Jimin says, essentially coming out.

“You knew? This whole time?” Jungkook yells, fists clenched as the anger builds.

“Just a few years ago but—”

“And you said nothing to me?”

“It was just 2 years ago.”

“And you’ve visited me twice a year since then and you never thought to tell me that I have a son…” Jungkook flinches at the word, unbelieving that it’s something he’d even say.

“Look, just calm down, okay?” Jimin tries, but he knows it won’t do much.

“Calm down? I’m fucking livid. I have a…” Jungkook stops himself, willing the tears not to fall. All this time, you had a child that you’d kept from him, without a care of how he would feel.

“Jungkook, just take a breath, yeah?” Namjoon says this time, walking towards the younger man and pulls him in for a hug. “It’s a lot, I know. But just breathe for a bit.”

Jungkook pulls away, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes. “How could she keep this from me?”

“Only she can answer that,” Namjoon sighs.

“I need to see her,” Jungkook states after a long pause.

“I can ask when she’s free—” Taehyung offers, ready to get his phone.

“I need to see her now.”

Jungkook finds himself in Jimin’s car, with Taehyung in the backseat talking to you over the phone, saying that he’ll take Jungwon for the rest of the afternoon and that they’re on their way.

Jungkook listens to Taehyung talk to you with so much care, the way he always had all those years ago. Nothing has changed, really.

Back in college, people tried to keep their distance from you, afraid of your resting bitch face and usually cold demeanor. Jungkook had heard about you from Jin, a good friend of your brother’s, and couldn’t quite reconcile the incredibly friendly and gentle Taehyung as your best friend.

It was one of the things that intrigued Jungkook, and he’d find out later on, after pulling all the stops with his flirting and finally getting you to agree on a coffee date, that you really did have a bitch face and you were cold if you wanted to be.

But you were so unapologetically you that it was refreshing. It wasn’t a defense mechanism or anything, it was just really who you were, but that wasn’t everything about you - you were also caring, protective, generous, extremely hardworking, and very confident.

Jungkook had fallen in love faster than he could throw a baseball, and he knows he can throw past 90/mph.

You complemented each other so beautifully that fights were easily resolved, if any, dates were always exciting, and moments together were never boring, even if it was just you quietly working on a paper and him noisily studying his games.

Taehyung was relentless in befriending you and you caved in pretty easily. “Look at the smile,” you’d said once. “Who can resist that?” You always had a soft spot for your best friend and Jungkook never minded; he’d trusted your relationship and you when you said that he never had to worry about Taehyung.

Except now. Because Taehyung seems to be a father figure to his son, being what Jungwon had needed all these years, while Jungkook had been clueless about it.

The night you broke up with him, you left him a weeping mess and begging behind closed doors to please don’t go. He felt he’d lost a big part of him, felt the soul-crushing feeling of losing someone again.

The loss of you was something he couldn’t prepare for and he’d spent years trying to put the pieces again, all on his own, in a foreign country, while chasing his dream. It had been hard but after some time, he rationalized in his mind that maybe you were right, maybe it would’ve been very hard for the both of you given the distance, the time difference, the busy schedules. It wouldn’t have been fair; he’d accepted that.

But keeping his child from him like this? This is too much. This is ruthless. You made a decision again. All by yourself. And he’s angry.

Everyone is thankful that Jungwon is asleep, although it’s a chance for Jungkook to see the little one in slumber, looking like the most adorable boy in the world.

Jimin and Taehyung agree to leave first, Jungkook not wanting them to wait, although he’s unsure how long this conversation with you is going to last.

You’ve been pacing back and forth since Taehyung called, informing you of the impromptu visit and Jungkook being unrelenting in his decision to speak with you today. You would’ve wanted to wait, although you know that Tae is right - Jungkook needs to know as soon as possible; he deserves that much.

In your more than 2 years together, you barely saw Jungkook angry - that was more of your thing because he enjoyed annoying the hell out of you every time and you always gave him shit for it.

But you two barely fought - you understood his busy schedule and were never really the jealous type, despite the presence of his “fans” (except maybe around Sora who’d named herself as the president of Jungkook’s fan club like that shit still flies), while Jungkook always knew how to make it up to you. He rarely complained, too if you ditched him to work on your projects.

But this Jungkook is different - his nostrils are flaring, brows are furrowed, jaws are clenched you’re afraid he’d break his teeth.

You’re different, too. You’re nervous, more reserved, not with your usual crossed arms but with fingers fidgeting at the loss of control.

You lead him in the living room and motion for him to sit down but he dismisses you.

“Hi, Jung—”

“I need to hear it from you,” he breathes out. “I know, god, I fucking know but I need to hear it from you.”

You take a deep breath and you say the words you’ve practiced in your head. “Jungwon is our son.”

You see him close his eyes, bite his lips, and tilt his head. It’s how you know he’s trying to control his emotions.

The silence is deafening but you give him time to process.

“How? I mean, you were on birth control and you said you never missed…” He stammers.

“Pills are not 100%, Jungkook. It just happened,” you explain, racking your brain for days right after you took the test over how it might’ve happened. At one point you stopped; it was no use.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It’s the big question, the one he’s been losing his mind over. It doesn’t matter that it happened; he just doesn’t know how you could make that big of a decision all on your own when it concerned him, the other half of the child.

“You were on your way to the big leagues. I couldn’t take that away from you.”

“But you thought it was alright to take away years with my son?” He seethes. “Fuck, ___. That wasn’t your decision to make.”

It wasn’t, not fully at least, you knew it. But he wouldn’t make that decision, so you had to.

“I made it anyway,” you respond, tone more stern now.

With all the pain and struggles it brought, it’s the one thing you stand by; it’s a decision you never regretted. Watching Jungkook play in the ballparks his dad never got to take him to, seeing him blow a kiss to the sky before and after every game, and catching him mouth the words ‘I love you, dad’ after his interviews have always been enough to trump everything else.

Jungkook had been living his and his father’s dream. It had always felt worth it.

“Why? I would’ve stayed,” Jungkook yells.

“Exactly. You would’ve,” you yell back. “I was sure that the moment you knew, you would’ve passed up a dream you worked your whole life for. I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you make that decision.”

“So you made it for me, by giving me none at all?” He scoffs. “Real brave, ___. And real fucked up, too.”

“It was the only way for you to go!” You exclaim. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have left, you would’ve settled, stayed behind… You would’ve given everything up.”

“Because that’s our child, ___!”

“And we didn’t plan on having him!” You shout, tears prickling on the corners of your eyes now.

“You’ve known baseball your whole life, Jungkook. Everything you’ve ever done was so you could play in the MLB and you did. You made it happen because you had the best opportunity and you took it, worked hard, got to where you wanted to be,” you rationalize.

He’s panting as he processes your words, mind going again to that night when you walked out on him, making sense of the reasons why, those you verbalized and those you didn’t.

“I know you, Jungkook,” you sigh, your voice taking him back to the present. “You’d take responsibility because that’s the kind of man you are. You would’ve insisted on taking care of us, on letting go of everything else for us, for your son. And I couldn’t let you give up on your dream, the one thing left of your father…”

“Don’t you fucking dare bring up my father,” he snaps at you, eyes so cold and you feel so small.

“You wouldn’t have forgiven yourself if you let that dream go for us.”

“Then you don’t really know me, ___. Because the hell would I give us up just like that. The hell would I give up time away from my son.”

He pulls his hair out of frustration, then lets go, tears now streaming down his face.

“I was 14 when I lost my dad, ___.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, you don’t know. And you aren’t sorry,” he retorts, his back facing you as he tries to get himself together. “I had to watch him wither away, had to stay by his bedside and watch him take his final breath because my mother couldn’t. I was 14 and I had to be strong for my parents. And I cried, every single night, for months,” he heaves.

He turns to face you, wants you to know how much you’ve hurt him.

“I almost quit school because I wouldn’t get out of my bed, wouldn’t talk to anyone. I told you I suffered, that I lost my way,” he continues, weeping.

But you didn’t know this, didn’t know he suffered like this, that he lost his way like this.

“But the dream kept you going, didn’t it?” You try. “It gave you purpose; you had something to live for, Jungkook,” you continue, reminding him of what the dream meant to him.

He’d been young but he had so many memories with his father about baseball; it had been the core of their relationship, the thread that kept them connected years after his death.

“In return for what?” He barks. “Fuck, I would’ve given anything to have my father again. And that includes that dream, ___.”

You stare at him, his body now crouching down on the couch, unable to fully lift himself up. You’d never seen him like this. He was never afraid to cry but this is different.

Your own tears are relentless, as if telling you that this is all because of you and you deserve this pain. You had broken this man, and you’d done so without regret.

He looks up at you, wipes his tear-drenched face, illuminating the pain, the longing, the anger.

“You took four years of my life away from my son. You robbed me of that chance. You didn’t even give me a choice. How fucking selfish are you? You had no right, ___,” he huffs.

“I just… I know you, Jungkook. You would’ve stayed and then what?” You say, trying to stand your ground, but even you don’t believe your words, at least not anymore.

“You’ll regret it down the road? Resent us because you had to stay? How would we feel? How would Jungwon feel, knowing that his father gave up his dream for him?”

“Really? You’re absolutely sure that’s what would happen? As if I’m not resenting you now?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone be taken from you, to not have enough time with them. But yeah, you need to have the last say always, right?” He says coldly, allowing the silence to let you take in his bitter words.

“You can’t ever feel like you don’t have control so you make all the decisions by yourself. Hurting those in your wake before they hurt you. But it’s all good right because you stand by it? As long as it’s enough to rid you of the guilt even if it hurts everyone else?”

This is how he hurts you - peeling away your layers and throwing them back at you, until there’s nothing left but all the parts you didn’t want anyone to see. But Jungkook had seen them, accepted them, loved you despite them.

But he’s standing in front of you. And there’s no love in his eyes. You don’t think you deserve it anymore.

You give him this, the last say. And he takes it. And he leaves.

Like countless times before, you fall to the floor and cry. You cry until your sounds are loud enough, until you can no longer hear your own heart breaking.

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