#gonna go wallow in my shame
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my parents are disappointed in me to a degree that hurts to think about & i am slowly going broke & i cant be with my boyfriend most nights even though i hate hate hate sleeping without him & my room is a mess & i can't find a job & everything in life is terrifying to me
#wallowing in it. for a moment. n then i am gonna go make a sandwich. and start cleaning my room. 👍#and i will apply to a job today. at 9pm. and i will go outside and enjoy the sunshine from 5-9pm.#and i will spend the time out in the sunshine reminding myself why it is okay if people (even people i love and rely on) are disappointed in#me. for at least 20 minutes. and at midnight i will stop whatever i am doing and lay in bed no matter what. okay.#and i am gonna allow myself caffeine. because i feel bad & it will help & it does relatively little harm to me.#& hopefully by the time i go to bed tonight i will feel better about it all. and if not i will keep trying until i do.#AND i will remove the parts of my routine i constructed entirely to make myself feel shame because that is not helping myself that ishurting
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Fake it Till you Make it | Part 17
And adorable.
If one were to ask Steve what he thought was about to happen, he’d be pretty fucking certain that he’d be correct in the fact that Eddie would have kissed him.
He’d have gotten up, crowded Steve against the closet door, and kissed him, and he’d have happily let that and whatever naturally followed happen, had watched in barely contained excitement as Eddie moved, then in deeply fond amusement, as Eddie got himself tangled up in the blankets on the bed and ate shit off the side of it in his haste to get up.
So now Eddie was just lying there, half off the bed, long hair dusting the shaggy rug on the floor, arms over the edge, fingers touching the floor, face down against the blankets, unmoving, wallowing in shame.
Steve adored him.
There wasn’t another word for it. It was a deep, all consuming fondness that warmed his entire being. A fondness that couldn’t allow him to just let Eddie wallow there in embarrassment, so he closed the bedroom door for a little privacy and lowered himself down to his knees in front of the bed. In front of Eddie’s defeated form. “Eddie?” The response was nothing but an oh so sorry for himself little whine. “Oh Bambi… look at me?”
“No. Nope, I’m good here.” Steve huffed a soft little laugh before he crouched lower, hands to the floor, body twisted so he could look up at Eddie from below, using one of his fingers to shift Eddie’s hair out of the way. “Leave me here to wallow.”
“But how will I get the kiss I’m betting my entirely wasted college fund I was gonna get, if you stay there and wallow?” At least that got him to lift his head, surprise flashing across his face as he took in Steve’s position below him “There he iiisss, wanna sit up for me?” It was like Eddie was some frightened animal, expression uncertain, as if expecting ridicule or insult, even as he slowly inched himself back onto the bed, sitting back on his haunches, fingers curled around his own hair holding the strands in front of his face. He looked so small for someone who was actually quite big.
For someone who had the higher position with Steve still on the floor.
So innocent, so perfectly pretty, all dark colours against the white of the sheets and the disarrayed blankets, Steve wanted to ruin him. And then keep him forever.
“You… you want the kiss?” Oh yeah, he was going to get that kiss. Could feel it in the air, the electricity, the calm before a storm where static built before lightning struck. Sure all of that confidence Eddie had momentarily built was now gone, but Steve knew it’d been there. Knew the desire was there. That was more than enough.
“I do if you want to give me one, yeah.” He lifted himself up onto his knees, hands on the edge of the bed, pushing himself up just enough, tilting his head just so, so that if Eddie could feel that same electricity, if Eddie knew to strike, he’d take that chance.
But Eddie didn’t seem as clued up as Steve’s usual hits tended to be. He wanted to, there was no doubt there, but just like in the trailer with their practice, which disappointingly enough they’d not actually needed thus far, Eddie needed coaxing. Needed to be shown that it was okay, he was allowed to want, allowed to take what he wanted, that it was freely up for offer and that all he had to do was take it.
Eddie talked a big game, but present him with a chance at actual intimacy, even something as casual as kissing, and he’d turn into a statue. Or trip over himself and eat dirt. “Can—Can you come up here?”
Steve didn’t miss a thing. One wouldn’t be wrong to call him a little on the stupid side at times, he lacked the intelligence of his small hoard of goblins, but he was observant, he knew what to look for, caught things that most wouldn’t, so when he braced himself, both hands flat on the mattress and pushed himself up, he didn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes watched his forearms flex. Didn’t miss how he gulped a harsh swallow of gathering saliva, didn’t miss the slight pupil dilation, the flushed cheeks were already there but the rest?
That electricity crackled around them. Eddie didn’t move though.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting it, you know that right?” Steve had to say it as he joined Eddie on the bed, Eddie tracking his every movement yet unmoving, doe eyes wide as if caught in headlights “I mean, I had a little freak out at first too but... remember in the trailer? How easy it became when you just let yourself go?” How he’d just melted into it, the desire was there, the want, bubbling beneath the surface, desperate to break free.
“It’s not that simple, Steve...” no, not to Eddie, it wouldn’t be, would it? Not usually, and certainly not now with the whole... it’s not real thing hanging over their heads. A hurdle they’d have to get over.
Steve caught Eddie’s chin in between his fingers just as the man tried to break eye contact “you’re thinking way too hard about this, Eddie, where’s all that gusto gone, huh?” He wanted those big brown doe eyes on him.
“Buried by shame.” Eddie pulled his head free from Steve’s grip and sat back on his rear. “And that’s probably for the best too, I mean...there’s no reason to, right? It’s just us in here so you—I mean, we, don’t have to pretend in here, do we?” No reason to get caught up in hormones that should have ebbed years ago. “I mean, in front of your parents, if we have to then—then sure, that’s fine, but... in here?” The bedroom was the safe zone, where they didn’t have to keep up the façade.
“Eddie... I’m going to say this once... just once... and then maybe again every single time you need to hear it because I’m very confident in the fact that you want me, very confident there, almost too confident, but that is mutual, the wanting thing, not the confidence thing because you’re clearly lacking that. The want thing? Very mutual, you’re very attractive and it’s very hard to keep my hands to myself, so if you want it, there’s no pretending here, I would—I mean, I also want that.” Steve had no problem going for things he wanted, even if that thing happened to be a very jumpy metal head he wouldn’t have been seen within ten feet of back in high school. “Why torture ourselves when we could be getting something we both want?”
High school Steve could and very much should go suck something long and hard. Probably blow his damn mind.
Eddie, sweet, innocent, somewhat feral Eddie, took a breath, “you uh... you use those lines on all the girls?” and dared a smile, just enough of one to dimple his cheek in that way that made Steve want to smush them with kisses.
“Never had any of em think this hard about it.” Even the ‘good Christian girls’ didn’t think that hard about it. Steve shifted a little in place, shuffling just a little closer to Eddie. “I’m gonna ask, and if you say no… then that’s that, I’ll respect your wishes” he’d respect the boundaries Eddie put in place no matter how tempting it was to cross them “Can I kiss you, Eddie? Not for this whole thing with my parents but… just to kiss you?”
“…You really want to?”
“Really not sure why that’s so hard to believe, man have you looked in a mirror?” Eddie had always been pretty, he’d always been attractive, he was just… also very loud, and argumentative, and he hurled abuse at the jocks like it was his job to do so. Now… he was quieter, still loud in his own way, but… not in the same way, the post-high school life suited him.
“So it’s strictly physical then, I see how it is” Steve snorted a laugh as he leaned in, butterflies flapping up a storm in his chest because Eddie wasn’t moving away, he was leaning in, didn’t pull away when Steve rested his hand on Eddie’s cheek, cupping his jaw.
“Oh shut up” The giggles puffed against his smiling lips right before they connected? Far superior to any lust-charged kiss, any day.
Part 19
#PirateWrites#FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet#Steddie#No Upside Down AU#Fake Dating AU#I KNOW WHAT EVERYONE WAS EXPECTING#and maybe that /was/ the original plan#but then i realised where Eddie was#and how he'd need to move to get to Steve#and something much funnier happened#so you get wholesome instead#very on brand for me i think
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Choose You
College!Miguel O'hara x Chubby Black reader
Warnings: Smut, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, piv, Gwen Stacy is a bitch (love Gwen but I needed a bully 😭), fatphobia, bullying, name calling (piggy, whale, etc)
A/N: This is really bad I'm sorry! I had a mild mental health crisis halfway through writing this but I hope you like it!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
@optimuslaim
Your head hangs low as you eat your breakfast in the dining hall. The noise of the hall dulls your thoughts as you play with the runny eggs on your plate. That is quickly interrupted by Gwen Stacy slamming her tray on the table. Gwen is the resident Regina George of your college campus. You used to fly under her radar but ever since you started dating Miguel O'hara, the star quarterback, she has been relentless in her harassment.
"Hey piggy, I saw you sitting here so I brought you some food so you won't get hungry while you sit alone. I guess your "boyfriend" doesn't want to be seen in public with you," Regina mocks, gesturing to the tray she had slammed next to you. The plate has a heaping pile of bacon and sausage with at least ten pieces of toast on top.
"Gwen, fuck off. Just accept the fact that not every guy at this school is not up your ass," you retort. You pick up your tray and walk towards the trash can.
"Miguel is only dating you as a joke. No guy here would ever be into a whale like you." Gwen pushes you straight into the trash can that you had stopped in front of. The can tips over, spilling the morning's trash onto the floor. The room goes silent as your peers stop talking to look at you.
"Wow piggy, you're such a klutz," Gwen laughs, pointing at you. Your tray drops to the ground and you run out of the hall with all eyes on you.
The walk back to your dorm is one of shame and severe embarrassment. Tears start to spill down your face when you make it to your door. Your fingers fumble to open the stubborn door, but when it finally does you crash onto the couch and sob. Salvia dribbles down your mouth, mixing with your tears as you cry. Eventually the burn in your throat is enough to quiet you, but the evidence of your breakdown is still streaked across your face.
Your eyes are red and puffy with mascara smeared across your lids. The clock in your living room reads 10:40 am, making you 40 minutes late for your second class. You decide to skip the rest of your classes and spend the day wallowing in self-pity. A sigh leaves your chest as you peel yourself from the couch and pull out your phone from your pocket. Your lock screen is littered with worried messages from your boyfriend.
10:12 am: Hey babe are you coming to class???
10:30 am: Tell me if you're sick and I'll leave early
10:32 am: Seriamente text me just so I know you're okay!!
10:35 am: I got your homework for you btw
10:36 am: did I do something?
10:38 am: I'm coming over
You quickly type up a "I'm ok" message, but knowing your boyfriend he's probably already sprinting to your dorm. You rush to your bathroom to remove the smeared makeup from your face and fix your lopsided braided bun. Just as you finally get the last bit of mascara off your eyes someone knocks at the door. You give yourself a once over and head to the door. Your boyfriend stands in the doorway looking frazzled and out of breath with homework papers clenched in his hand.
"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Miguel asks as he steps into your dorm.
"I did, I was just taking a nap!" You exclaim trying to avoid his eyes.
"Mìrame. Why are your eyes so red? Did you smoke without me?" Miguel jokingly pouts his bottom lip as he grabs your face.
"No, I'm just not feeling good, baby. You can go, I'm just gonna skip class today."
Miguel's eyebrows knit together with skepticism. "Did Gwen talk shit to you again?"
What? No, I just want to stay in bed today!" Your voice starts to shake and a familiar throbbing runs down your throat. Despite this assurance, your eyes give you away.
"I'm so sick of that cabrona de mierda! I'm gonna have a word with her," Miguel turns to the door, ready to have yet another screaming match with Gwen.
"Miguel, please!" You plead, grabbing at his arm. "She talked shit but I'm fine now. I really don't want to think about it anymore and I really don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I go crying to you every time she calls me a pig. It's not like you can actually do anything to her anyways."
"How am I supposed to stick up for you then? I'm not gonna sit around and let her be a puta to my girlfriend," Miguel sighs, turning back around.
You both stand in silence, unable to think of any real solution. Miguel breaks the tension by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug.
"I'm sorry, baby," Miguel whispers in your ear. "I just want to help you." His hands rub gentle circles on your back. Miguel's warm breath tickles your ear causing you to smile ever so slightly.
"You can help me just by being an amazing, supportive boyfriend," you say. Miguel lifts his head and kisses you. His lips feel plush against yours.
The first kiss is delicate, barely grazing your lips, but the second is more passionate. Your fingers entangle themselves into Miguel's dark curls. They feel soft and perfectly wrap around your fingertips. You pull Miguel closer to your chest, practically merging your bodies together.
"I need you Miguel," you say breathlessly against his lips.
"I guess I could skip my next class," Miguel smirks, lifting up his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned stomach and wide shoulders.
Your cheeks blush at the sight of him in his full glory. Miguel doesn't hesitate to get naked unlike you. Your fingers shyly tug at your graphic tee before lifting it above your head. Natural instincts make your arms fly to cover as much of your body as you can.
"Babe, I've seen you naked three times, stop hiding yourself from me. I already know how sexy you look topless," Miguel says, pulling your arms away from your chest. He quickly unhooks your bra while pressing kisses to your bust.
You grab Miguel's arm and lead him to your bedroom. The room is small with only a twin bed and a desk sitting in the corners. Miguel gently pushes you onto the bed with a look of lust in his eyes. His fingers spread warmth to your body as they trail down your stomach to your aching mound. He teases your clothed pussy, slowly pressing deep circles onto your clit.
"Miguel," you moan. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as he continues his ministrations. Pleasure builds within your abdomen as Miguel's fingers move hastily against your cunt. His bicep flexes as his fingers push your panties to the side, giving your boyfriend a full view of your wet pussy.
"Is all this for me, baby?" Miguel teases as the pad of his thumb brushes over your exposed clit. The sudden skin-to-skin contact sends electricity up your spine.
"Only for you."
Your boyfriend's dark eyes are practically red with lust. He removes his hand from in between your legs, much to your dismay, and positions himself in between them. For the first time you notice his large bulge poking through the boxers he neglected to take off. Your brain barely registers his cock before he pushes inside you. A loud gasp escapes your lips as your pussy stretches around his girth.
"F-fuck!" you manage to stutter out. Miguel is gentle at first. His hips move smoothly like butter against your own. The initial pressure subsides and pleasure takes its place. Miguel plunges deep inside you, leaving you shaking with every thrust. Your thighs jiggle with the snap of his hips causing the room to fill with the sound of your skin slapping together.
"Jesus, you feel so fucking good!" Miguel exclaims. He quickens his pace to an impossible speed, eliciting pornographic moans from you. His shaft renders speechless as he effortly hits the sensitive spot in your pussy. Your hands quickly tangle in Miguel's hair as your orgasm nears.
"You like that, baby?" Miguel teases.
"Oh fuck! I love your fucking dick" Your words sputter out with each slam of your boyfriend's hips, but your message is clear.
"You love this fucking dick?" Miguel's ego grows larger by the second.
"I LOVE your fucking dick," you say practically screaming.
Your next sentence is interrupted by Miguel jackhammering into you with the last bit of energy he has. His fingers intertwine with yours as your orgasm rushes through your body. Your toes curl to the point of cracking as it makes its way down your legs. Miguel lets out a string of curses as he presses his head against your chest. A final grunt escapes his lips when he finishes inside of you.
His thighs tremble and his breath is shallow, eyes filled with a post-orgasm high as he lifts his head.
"I'll always choose you, baby," Miguel says breathlessly.
"I know," you reply back. You brush the wet curls out of your boyfriend's face knowing that even if Gwen bullied you, you still got the better end of the stick.
Your head hangs low as you eat your breakfast in the dining hall. The noise of the hall dulls your thoughts as you play with the runny eggs on your plate. That is quickly interrupted by Gwen Stacy slamming her tray on the table. Gwen is the resident Regina George of your college campus. You used to fly under her radar but ever since you started dating Miguel O'hara, the star quarterback, she has been relentless in her harassment.
"Hey piggy, I saw you sitting here so I brought you some food so you won't get hungry while you sit alone. I guess your "boyfriend" doesn't want to be seen in public with you," Regina mocks, gesturing to the tray she had slammed next to you. The plate has a heaping pile of bacon and sausage with at least ten pieces of toast on top.
"Gwen, fuck off. Just accept the fact that not every guy at this school is not up your ass," you retort. You pick up your tray and walk towards the trash can.
"Miguel is only dating you as a joke. No guy here would ever be into a whale like you." Gwen pushes you straight into the trash can that you had stopped in front of. The can tips over, spilling the morning's trash onto the floor. The room goes silent as your peers stop talking to look at you.
"Wow piggy, you're such a klutz," Gwen laughs, pointing at you. Your tray drops to the ground and you run out of the hall with all eyes on you.
The walk back to your dorm is one of shame and severe embarrassment. Tears start to spill down your face when you make it to your door. Your fingers fumble to open the stubborn door, but when it finally does you crash onto the couch and sob. Salvia dribbles down your mouth, mixing with your tears as you cry. Eventually the burn in your throat is enough to quiet you, but the evidence of your breakdown is still streaked across your face.
Your eyes are red and puffy with mascara smeared across your lids. The clock in your living room reads 10:40 am, making you 40 minutes late for your second class. You decide to skip the rest of your classes and spend the day wallowing in self-pity. A sigh leaves your chest as you peel yourself from the couch and pull out your phone from your pocket. Your lock screen is littered with worried messages from your boyfriend.
10:12 am: Hey babe are you coming to class???
10:30 am: Tell me if you're sick and I'll leave early
10:32 am: Seriamente text me just so I know you're okay!!
10:35 am: I got your homework for you btw
10:36 am: did I do something?
10:38 am: I'm coming over
You quickly type up a "I'm ok" message, but knowing your boyfriend he's probably already sprinting to your dorm. You rush to your bathroom to remove the smeared makeup from your face and fix your lopsided braided bun. Just as you finally get the last bit of mascara off your eyes someone knocks at the door. You give yourself a once over and head to the door. Your boyfriend stands in the doorway looking frazzled and out of breath with homework papers clenched in his hand.
"Why didn't you answer my texts?" Miguel asks as he steps into your dorm.
"I did, I was just taking a nap!" You exclaim trying to avoid his eyes.
"Mìrame. Why are your eyes so red? Did you smoke without me?" Miguel jokingly pouts his bottom lip as he grabs your face.
"No, I'm just not feeling good, baby. You can go, I'm just gonna skip class today."
Miguel's eyebrows knit together with skepticism. "Did Gwen talk shit to you again?"
What? No, I just want to stay in bed today!" Your voice starts to shake and a familiar throbbing runs down your throat. Despite this assurance, your eyes give you away.
"I'm so sick of that cabrona de mierda! I'm gonna have a word with her," Miguel turns to the door, ready to have yet another screaming match with Gwen.
"Miguel, please!" You plead, grabbing at his arm. "She talked shit but I'm fine now. I really don't want to think about it anymore and I really don't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing I go crying to you every time she calls me a pig. It's not like you can actually do anything to her anyways."
"How am I supposed to stick up for you then? I'm not gonna sit around and let her be a puta to my girlfriend," Miguel sighs, turning back around.
You both stand in silence, unable to think of any real solution. Miguel breaks the tension by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug.
"I'm sorry, baby," Miguel whispers in your ear. "I just want to help you." His hands rub gentle circles on your back. Miguel's warm breath tickles your ear causing you to smile ever so slightly.
"You can help me just by being an amazing, supportive boyfriend," you say. Miguel lifts his head and kisses you. His lips feel plush against yours.
The first kiss is delicate, barely grazing your lips, but the second is more passionate. Your fingers entangle themselves into Miguel's dark curls. They feel soft and perfectly wrap around your fingertips. You pull Miguel closer to your chest, practically merging your bodies together.
"I need you Miguel," you say breathlessly against his lips.
"I guess I could skip my next class," Miguel smirks, lifting up his shirt to reveal his perfectly toned stomach and wide shoulders.
Your cheeks blush at the sight of him in his full glory. Miguel doesn't hesitate to get naked unlike you. Your fingers shyly tug at your graphic tee before lifting it above your head. Natural instincts make your arms fly to cover as much of your body as you can.
"Babe, I've seen you naked three times, stop hiding yourself from me. I already know how sexy you look topless," Miguel says, pulling your arms away from your chest. He quickly unhooks your bra while pressing kisses to your bust.
You grab Miguel's arm and lead him to your bedroom. The room is small with only a twin bed and a desk sitting in the corners. Miguel gently pushes you onto the bed with a look of lust in his eyes. His fingers spread warmth to your body as they trail down your stomach to your aching mound. He teases your clothed pussy, slowly pressing deep circles onto your clit.
"Miguel," you moan. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as he continues his ministrations. Pleasure builds within your abdomen as Miguel's fingers move hastily against your cunt. His bicep flexes as his fingers push your panties to the side, giving your boyfriend a full view of your wet pussy.
"Is all this for me, baby?" Miguel teases as the pad of his thumb brushes over your exposed clit. The sudden skin-to-skin contact sends electricity up your spine.
"Only for you."
Your boyfriend's dark eyes are practically red with lust. He removes his hand from in between your legs, much to your dismay, and positions himself in between them. For the first time you notice his large bulge poking through the boxers he neglected to take off. Your brain barely registers his cock before he pushes inside you. A loud gasp escapes your lips as your pussy stretches around his girth.
"F-fuck!" you manage to stutter out. Miguel is gentle at first. His hips move smoothly like butter against your own. The initial pressure subsides and pleasure takes its place. Miguel plunges deep inside you, leaving you shaking with every thrust. Your thighs jiggle with the snap of his hips causing the room to fill with the sound of your skin slapping together.
"Jesus, you feel so fucking good!" Miguel exclaims. He quickens his pace to an impossible speed, eliciting pornographic moans from you. His shaft renders speechless as he effortly hits the sensitive spot in your pussy. Your hands quickly tangle in Miguel's hair as your orgasm nears.
"You like that, baby?" Miguel teases.
"Oh fuck! I love your fucking dick" Your words sputter out with each slam of your boyfriend's hips, but your message is clear.
"You love this fucking dick?" Miguel's ego grows larger by the second.
"I LOVE your fucking dick," you say practically screaming.
Your next sentence is interrupted by Miguel jackhammering into you with the last bit of energy he has. His fingers intertwine with yours as your orgasm rushes through your body. Your toes curl to the point of cracking as it makes its way down your legs. Miguel lets out a string of curses as he presses his head against your chest. A final grunt escapes his lips when he finishes inside of you.
His thighs tremble and his breath is shallow, eyes filled with a post-orgasm high as he lifts his head.
"I'll always choose you, baby," Miguel says breathlessly.
"I know," you reply back. You brush the wet curls out of your boyfriend's face knowing that even if Gwen bullied you, you still got the better end of the stick.
Taglist ****
@anoaievans
@lilvampirina
@vaexox
@hatterripper31
@aiyaaayei
@vipersecret-blog
@kelly-fushiguro345
Art: @shuploc
#college au miguel o'hara#college au#au#alternate universe#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara fan art#miguel x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x plus size reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x chubby black reader#miguel o'hara x black reader#miguel o'hara x plus size black reader#miguel o'hara x reader smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x you#miguel o'hara x you#black reader#reader insert#chubby black reader#black girl reader#black!fem!reader#fanfic#chubby reader#reader insert fluff#plus size reader smut#plus sized reader
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BTS PREFERENCE #1: YOU HELP HIM WHEN HE’S INSECURE
Warning(s): Slight Angst, and Hurt/Comfort
Author's Note: Hope you enjoy!
*********************************
Jin:
He sighs deeply as he stands in the bathroom, hands running through his hair as he scrunches his nose a bit. He’d felt old ever since Jungkook jokingly pointed out a white hair he’d seen on him during a photoshoot. He was old. According to some ARMY, he LOOKED old too.
Some people were beginning to refer to him as ‘Oppa-Jin’ and it was starting to really get to him.
You tap gently on the bathroom door. “Baby? You in there? Come on, lunch is ready...” You say.
He stays silent and you knock again. “Babe? Hey, I know you’re in there...” You tease.
He sighs and slowly opens the door. “There you are. What are you doing? Hiding from me on your day off. Shame on you.” You tease as he leans against the bathroom doorway.
“Babe, I... I have a question...” He says softly. You nod and watch him. “Would you... be able to help me dye my hair?” He asks.
“Dye your hair? Yea, I’d love to.” You say casually and he nods fast.
“Great! Let’s go buy some dye, right now.” He says as he grabs your arm to pull you towards the apartment door with him.
“Whoa, wait.” You say fast and stop him. “Why the sudden need for change?” You ask with a soft chuckle as you rub his chest comfortingly. He sighs.
“I’ve got..." He pauses as if it's embarrassing. "A white hair.” He speaks finally.
You hold in your laughter as you watch him. “And... that’s a bad thing?” You tease.
“Y/N..” He sighs as he shakes his head. “You don’t understand.” He tries.
“I don’t understand that the guy I wanna grow old with is growing older and doesn’t want to?” You raise an eyebrow and Jin looks down. You wrap your arms around his waist.
“Babe. You’re still the same charming and sexy and smart and fit man I fell for. A little white hair isn’t changing any of that. You’re growing older. That’s awesome. So am I.” You say. “Besides,” you say and run your fingers through his hair. “You’d make a great silver Fox.” You tease.
He chuckles. “You better be saying that when you have to take out my dentures.” He jokes and you laugh and nod fast.
“Deal.” You smile wide before pecking his lips.
Suga:
‘He honestly looks miserable being with her! Lol’
'OMG, the way he lets her hold his hand with no reaction. I’m 💀’
‘Obvious publicity stunt is OBVIOUS!😂’
Yoongi silently scrolls through the comments of different TikTok edits that showed you and him as boyfriend and girlfriend out in public, and how he reacted to talking about you in his interviews.
He frowns the longer he reads...
He wished he could be more outward with how he felt. Especially since he DOES love you. He just... had a hard time really saying it. But you knew he loved you, right? Or were you also tired of his painfully shy ways? He sighs and lays back on the couch. "Why can't I be... normal?" He whispers quietly to himself before rubbing his face tiredly.
You walk out from the bedroom at that moment and frown as you watch your boyfriend wallow in self-pity.
“Are you coming to bed, or... are you gonna keep me waiting?” You ask finally as you walk over, wanting to lift his mood. Yoongi looks up at you with a frown. It breaks your heart.
“You know I... love you. Right?” He asks softly. You hum and reach down to stroke his hair back.
"I’d hope so. We’ve only been together for a whole year...” You joke.
“I’m serious, Y/N." He mutters and you sigh softly. "I don’t want you thinking because I don’t... show you affection that that means I don’t... love you. I do. I try. I... I just get in my own head-" You cut Yoongi off.
“Where is all this coming from?” You ask as you move on to his lap. He silently hands you the phone, so you see the edits of you being more affectionate to him than he is to you. You roll your eyes at that.
“Baby. I know you’re shy. I knew that the minute you sent Jimin over to say hi to me instead of you...” You tease. “I don’t pay attention to affection or PDA. Cause I know you love me, and you should know I love you. You and all your black cat energy.” You giggle as you tap his nose.
“Black cat energy?” He laughs a bit, scrunching his nose as he tries to act like that didn't make him feel a little better.
"See? You're doing it right now!" You laugh and peck his lips as he blushes a bit at the affection.
J-Hope:
“I think you’re done for the day.” You say happily as you bounce into the dance studio your husband was in. He was STILL practicing the routine even though everyone had left by now.
“Don’t tell me. Namjoon called you?” He rubs his sweaty face. The man looked exhausted, but his own stubborn pride of being the 'dance teacher' of BTS was egging him on to get these moves down.
“Yea. Said you were being stubborn. What else is new?” You joke a bit as you walk closer.
“I can’t leave till I get this down.” He tries as he gets back into position.
“It’s late. You missed dinner. Luckily, if you ask nicely, I can open the kitchen back up when we get home.” You say simply.
“No. Y/N, please. I have to work on this.” He says again, a bit more tense. You stay silent for a moment as you watch him.
“What’s gotten into you?” You ask finally and he sighs deeply.
“I... I just wanna... I wanna be..." He pauses as he looks down.
"Perfect?" You guess and he stays looking down. "Being away for so long... There's new artists now. And I'm happy that new artists are coming up, but-" You cut him off. "But what if ARMY leaves.” You say, understanding. Hobie says nothing.
“Well." You begin as you walk over to him. "You ARE perfect. The DEFINITION of perfection. Baby, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy always focusing on the future...” You state as you move to hold him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“You’re an amazing dancer. And an amazing rapper. But you're more than that. You... Are ARMY's hope." You say before pecking his pouty lips as he rolls his eyes at you playfully.
"You were born to be a performer. And you’ll get this move down. But not without eating and resting...” You say.
He sighs softly and looks down. “Mm... Ok. Fine. Fine, fine, you’re right...” He nods fast and you smile, pleased with yourself.
"Aren't I always?" You tease before kissing him again.
Namjoon:
“You’re all quiet since the interview this morning. Ready to tell me what’s wrong?” You ask as you twirl the noodles along your chopsticks.
“Nothing. Tired.” He says softly and you raise an eyebrow.
“Then look at me." You say and Namjoon pokes at his bowl of food, but makes no attempt to actually look at you.
"Joonie..." You say and he sighs, poking at his noodles some more as he bobs his head around to try and figure out the right words. “Jimin’s story.” He finally says.
“Jimin’s story? You mean him talking about how you broke my glasses a couple of days ago while we were all hanging out? That was funny!" You defend. "What’s the issue with it?” You ask in confusion. It was a simple incident that happened during a drunken game of twister. At a certain point, Namjoon stumbled back and, while trying to catch himself, he grabbed on to the table, not seeing your glasses there. He broke the temple of the glasses from slamming his hand down on it.
“It wasn’t the story. It... was what the interviewer said afterwards. ‘Always breaking things’, ‘Seems like no one’s safe from the curse’. Like I’m just some big doofus.” Namjoon says as he stays looking down, feeling embarrassed.
“You’re MY big doofus...” You try with a smile only to be met with a frown as your boyfriend finally looks up at you. You sigh. “Ok. Hey. Come here...” You say as you motion for your 5-foot 11 baby to get up.
He mumbles under his breath as he gets up and moves over to you. He sit in the chair right next to yours and you sit on his lap with a deep sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“It’s always an accident. But I always get seen as the giant of the group that ruins everything. No wonder people question why I’m the leader...” He mutters.
“That's easy. I know the answer to that. It's... because... you’re smart." You begin as you rock with him swaying with you as well. "And warm. And you’re safe. It's because everyone can be panicking, and you’ll still keep a level head. So, you’re accident prone. Who cares. Look around you, ‘giant’." You tease. "You’re in a home we decorated together, sitting at a table we built together, eating dinner we cooked together just now. And nothing bad happened. It’s not a curse, and you’re not a doofus. Now stop talking crap about yourself. It’s a rule of mine to always defend who I love. Even from themselves. So... watch your mouth.” You smirk and watch as Namjoon slowly smiles a bit before nodding.
“Now. Dig in." You say happily and pull his bowl to him and the chopsticks as well.
"Yes, ma'am.” He says gently before grabbing his chopsticks. He goes to break them apart only to accidentally break them in half.
You cover your mouth to not laugh, and he groans, face palming.
“I love you...” You giggle and he looks up at you with a sheepish smile.
“I love you.” He sighs hopelessly as you get him a new pair of chopsticks.
Jimin:
“Baby? Are you... sleeping?” Jimin whispers as he watches you lay in bed.
“No. Thank your seed for that. Stomach is killing me...” You mutter as you turn to face your husband of two years, but pause when you see tears in his eyes. “Jimin? Baby? What’s wrong?” You whisper as you move to hold him.
“Do you... think I’m... manly enough?” He asks slowly.
“What? Where is that coming from?” You ask in confusion and shock. Jimin has always been strong in his gender identity, feeling both like a man while keeping some femininity to him. You respected this from him and loved him even more for never making you ‘play a part’ in this marriage. You both acted masculine and feminine in multiple ways and found a comfortable balance. Hence why you were now happily three months pregnant.
“It’s... it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just tired. Lots of recording.” He tries fast as he moves to close his eyes.
“Hey." You grab his face tenderly. "Tell me.” You say and he sniffles a bit.
“Us coming forward with the pregnancy. People are... cracking jokes on Twitter about how... they didn’t even know I… had something to get you pregnant with...” He mutters bitterly. You scoff at that and roll your eyes.
“Baby. Look at me..." You say and stroke his cheeks softly. "You are more of a man than any guy I’ve ever met. Wanna know why? Because you don’t need to prove it to anyone. Because you know who you are, and you know what you want. You’re so self-assured and that’s what you’ll reach our child too. And I can’t wait to see who they grow up to be, knowing they’ll have an amazing father like you.” You state.
Jimin blushes and moves to kiss you softly. “I love you...” He smiles as he wipes away a few of your tears. You smile and hug him close. “I love you...” You state.
Taehyung:
“It’s nice to know you’re not just a pretty face.” You mock the interviewer’s comment to your boyfriend who had just finished promoting his new solo project, a jazz album.
“Oh god! I'm PISSED! Who is that guy to-“ Taehyung cuts you off.
“Baby, breathe..." He chuckles. "I’m used to it. Really. It’s not a big deal. Don’t let that ruin the rest of our night.” He tries as you guys get into the back of the black SUV that would be taking you guys back to your hotel room.
“No, Tae. It does bother me. And it should bother you too. You’re so fucking talented, and all anyone likes to point out is your looks?! Hell no. That’s where I draw the line. You deserve more respect. I think after all this time of you working nonstop, you’ve earned it.” You say before realizing you're ranting. You sigh and gently grab his hand.
“You’re more than what they want you to be...” You state and he looks down, the laid back, 'I don't care' image finally falling. He nods slowly, shoulders slumping.
“Thank you, baby. For getting all... fired up for me.” He chuckles a bit and you kiss his cheek.
“That’s what I’m here for.” You shrug playfully.
Jungkook:
“Hey, baby. How was the live?” You ask as you look up from your magazine.
Jungkook sighs deeply as he tiredly walks over to you and lays on the bed.
“Sad. Really sad. I had to tell the fans something.” He mutters, and you pause, setting down your reading for the night and patting your lap. He lays his head in your lap, and you play with his hair.
“What was it now?” You ask tiredly. Jungkook was always so mindful of ARMY, but it was hard on him too. He wanted to please everyone...
“They think I’m depressed! Or... an alcoholic? I don’t know. I told them it’s one thing to worry about me, but to just throw out those accusations out there like that, it hurts!” He says and you nod, letting him just vent. “Namjoon was right. ARMY’s changed...” He mutters.
“Mm... I don’t think so. ARMY... those fans who really love you... they’ve gotten older, yeah. But they haven’t changed. It’s the other fans. The ones who are so used to toxicity that they can’t help but drag it along with them wherever they go. But that’s not ‘ARMY’. ARMY, real ARMY? They love you guys. Just the way you are. You're doing the best you can. You've gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” You state as you comfort him as best you can. He smiles sadly and sighs deeply.
“Thank you, baby. You always know how to get me relaxed.” He nods before pecking his lips up to you. You giggle and lean down, kissing him tenderly.
#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#kim taehyung#min yoogni#park jimin#jung hoseok#jeon jungkook#namjoon#namjoon imagine#jin#jin imagine#taehyung#taehyung imagine#j hope#j hope imagine#jimin#jimin imagine#yoongi#suga#bts suga#rm bts#rm imagine#bts fic#bts#suga x reader#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader
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songs i associate with redacted audio characters - speaker & listener edition
oh yeah baby, we back for round two
im not gonna include a singing voice claim for everyone this time around, but some of these might have them in there. also, im only doing three speaker characters this time around because im also including three listener characters. but, i will include four songs for the listener characters. just for funsies.
!! CW FOR SUI/ MENT !!
geordi
hate myself - dodie
; my poor sweet geordi. my little man. this song is far too relatable enough as is, but i have a feeling our resident tetris boy would relate very much to this song. specifically the chorus—“when you go quiet i hate myself” is almost literally about how geordi felt when he was first getting used to cutie’s silence. i can imagine how vulnerable it was for him. he’s getting better tho! which is exactly what i wanted!
voodoo doll - 5sos
; so a bit of a weirder pull for him, i like the idea that in the days after meeting and getting cutie’s number, his thoughts were just plagued with images of them in his mind. do i think they put them into his head? no, but this was early cutie, so it could have been possible. but i like the idea of one of geordi’s thoughts just going all conspiracy over why he kept thinking abt them.
wish me luck - wallows
; another sad one for our tetris boy, and this might even be sadder than the dodie song. i love wallows, theyre probably in my top fave artists, and all their songs are sooo good. this song just screams geordi to me. the genius lyric website says that this song is about “the narrator [is] asking for support and validation from a loved one during times of struggle and self-doubt, whilst talking alot about encouraging self-awareness and speaking out about inner conflicts and problems”, which. i mean. yeah, thats geordi and cutie alright! i imagined this when they were slowly starting to talk to each other again but were still really nervous about what the other would say.
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sam
leaving lonesome flats - dierks bentley
; so this song is. alright so its from the second trolls movie. BUT HEAR ME OUT OK. this is my sam singing voice claim and i think its damn near perfect. i would have done bentley's song “what was i thinking?” instead but i think the trolls song fits better. something about running and coming back, etc etc. listen, this song is just really good, and i think it makes sense for sam. that’s the only explanation i can give here dhsjdhjd
she keeps me up - nickleback
; i was not a fan of nickleback for a while, and now im kinda vibing with some of their songs, but this has such big sam and darlin' energy to me. like, look, darlin' is canonically hot as fuck (as confirmed by porter), and i really just think this song fits really well with their dynamic.
believe me - james and the shame
; so we're all in agreement that sam definitely has some kind of religious trauma (most likely catholic/christian) right? anyways, i only recently got into gmm last year, and when i heard this song i was like “there’s no shot that’s rhett from gmm”. knowing that rhett writes this from the perspective of someone healing from a religious past that was harmful was really empowering, and i think that it fits sam really well.
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blake
absinthe - idkhow
; this song is just cult leader energy. i know he isnt a cult leader really, but like. i mean. sometimes i think closeknit might see blake as some kind of deity or god to worship. but i can imagine blake lowkey liking having that kind of power for one reason or another.
how i’d kill - cowboy malfoy
; this to me suits blake because of the tone shift in the song. where it goes from slow and almost eerie to a bossa nova jazz type swing to it. to me, it reflects how blake is really like: the way he was around sunshine vs bestie, like in his “two sides to a yandere” audio.
if i killed someone for you - alec benjamin
; uh. well. i had this song on the playlist before the “for you” audio. and then the audio happened. so. blake-core i guess??
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darlin'
vampire - olivia rodrigo
; this is such an obvious fucking song to put for them but also i do not care it still fits. this is about quinn, obviously, and i think it especially hits hard after listening to their second vid with sam and how they mentioned finding another vamp that quinn had slept with. like, was this another manipulated vamp? this song just hits differently when you think about darlin'. and also, even if it’s overplayed, the song slaps.
paul revere - noah kahan
; there are definitely other noah kahan songs on my tank playlist, but this one is just such a good depiction of who they are. them coming back to dahlia, people recognizing them but them saying they’re not from dahlia, how dahlia doesn’t feel like home, like—something about that just really hits me in a way that i love.
howlin’ for you - the black keys
; this is my “darlin's go-to karaoke song” song. imagine them kinda drunk, feeling themself and having fun, singing this in front of their pack, and especially in front of sam. like it’s such a good song for them.
best friends - grandson
; this is here because in my little universe, darlin', david & asher were in a band as teens, and they covered this song. but also, this is such a teen!tank song. this was probably playing while they beat up tires in an abandoned parking lot. like i imagine david wasn’t as much a rule breaker as asher, milo, amanda, christian, & tank were, but you gotta admit their friend group were probably hellions in their own right.
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honey
disco man - remi wolf
; this is a good song that fits honey in my eyes. it’s sort of like about guy from honey’s perspective from earlier in their friendship/living situation. learning that the guy who won’t stop flirting with you with the cute smile is a creative writing major probably made honey regret crushing on him asjkgfhjks.
lego ring - faye webster & lil yachty
; ok this actually is inspired by oh, baby, baby by lovelylonerliterature because that is one of the best guy/honey fics i’ve read in a while, but i think honey learning to be softer and be a bit silly with it is so wonderful. also, i like the idea that guy would joke propose with something silly like a bread tie ring or a lego ring but honey would fully take it as a promise for the future and just break guy. what can i say, i like making our pizza boy flustered. and so do they.
“listen to your heart.” “no.” - cheekface
; this is just based on vibes. guy sings most of the song, honey only sings the “no” lines. i’m a genius.
soft bitch - rio romeo
; awww, honey you sap you! no but seriously, i imagine that honey often thinks about how much guy has changed them for the better. and they haaaaate it. y'know that one tiktok audio where someone’s like "he makes me smile—OH WHAT THE FUCK"? that was honey when they realized they had a crush on guy. and this song kind of embodies that too; honey isn't used to being sweet, but being with guy has made them into a sappy person, which they never thought they would be, and how much they actually enjoy it.
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freelancer
just existing - daysormay
; so not only is this my favorite song at the moment, this is also my freelancer theme song basically. the lyrics "it always took too long to learn how to slow down / chasing shortcuts and serotonin touchdowns" and "maybe i lost drive / i'm searching every day for relief / and chasing a break that i don't really need" feels like our resident (and chronic) overworking deviant. this also works when you think about freelancer singing this and each of the verses matching with one of the D.A.M.N. crew boys.
my body - young the giant
; a song about feeling the need to overwork yourself to get better at something because you have a fear of failure and falling behind, in my freelancer playlist? how ridiculous! /j no but in all seriousness this song is a perfect depiction of their need to keep pushing, keep working, to be perfect. i think even when they know they’re good at something, they have to be better. they need to be better to prove themself.
empty bed - cavetown
; so this is a bit more of a depressing and sad song for freelancer, but one i think still makes sense. this reminds me of early s3!freelancer, still healing from the inversion and terrified of everyone they love going away. how they grew up, how they hide their pain as best they can so they don’t bother anyone with their problems, but how they dont want their friends to deal with that kind of pain. how they don't want the D.A.M.N. crew to be in pain, but was so hesitant to let the others know their own pain.
babyface - artio
; so i found out abt artio recently, and when i looked them up on tiktok and saw the lead singer, rae, i immediately said “oh, that's crow!” (for those who dont know, crow is the name of my freelancer-sona). this is very specifically for my freelancer-sona, but i think it stills works for canon!freelancer. how their people pleaser tendencies can make them so quick to change themself for others but how they’ve slowly grown to be more confident in themself.
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this took. far too long hdsjhd
i am still considering sharing my spotify link on here, so if you want to see which of the redacted audio character playlists are on the app, pls let me know!
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He Showed Up: Lewis Hamilton x Black!Caribbean!Reader
Y/n and Lewis had met at Coachella, where they were both in the same situation of being dragged there by their friends even though they wanted to stay home. Throughout the night, they talked and laughed, drank and danced until their fun exceeded to Lewis’ hotel room. The next morning Lewis woke up to the beautiful woman next to him that he hoped would be interested in dating him despite the circumstances of how they met and what they had already done. However, Y/n was the complete opposite as she woke up to the sound of Lewis having a shower and was entirely embarrassed as she quickly got dressed and left the room, leaving no traces of herself behind as she made her way home to wallow in shame and self pity. Lewis was now left heartbroken as he came to find that she left without even saying goodbye, luckily he had her social account that even though she restricted him from texting, he was still able to see her posts and stories.
Three months went by and Y/n was completely sick since the end of the first month after the interaction, yet she thought it was just something going on with her body and went on taking medications. Shocking to find out at her six months check up that happens twice a year, that she was pregnant, and that the medications she had been taking may or may not have caused harm to the fetus. Feeling every emotion under the sun, she broke down into tears worried of how she would look after both herself and her child, seeming that her family abandoned her and her friends are most of the times busy and unable to help.
Overtime of taking the prenatal vitamins and other prescribed medications, she was finally in the somewhat clear during her sixth month of pregnancy. Unbeknownst to her, Lewis had followed her on instagram using Roscoe’s account and had been watching every post she made and so he was aware that she was pregnant. He eventually got one of her female friends to meet with him, where she gave him further updates about Y/n’s pregnancy as he also would buy things things for the baby, delivering them straight to her address, confusing both the pregnant woman and delivery men as she knew she didn’t have the sources to purchase whatever came onto her doorstep. Lewis then went all out to plan for the friend to get Y/n out of the house so he could go in with Toto, Susie, Angela, George, Mick and Sebastian to quickly set up the surprise nursery that her friend had ‘planned’.
Moving up to the ninth month, Y/n was now in the hospital as her water had broke and contraction already started. Y/n’s friend excused herself with the reason of needing to use the bathroom as she went to call Lewis, informing him that Y/n was ready to give birth. Lewis was so excited as he told his family who told him to hurry on, as he sped off to the hospital. Upon arrival, Y/n friend was waiting for him at the entrance as he parked and strides across the road, they hurriedly made it to the room that Y/n was admitted into.
“Hi cutie how are you feeling?”Y/n’s friend tried to cheer her up as she noticed the pain and worry on her face. “I’m scared my baby may not be healthy and it would be all my fault. The worse part is that I have no support but you, as the father or my family aren’t here. How will I do this Anita? I’m struggling now and I’m gonna suffer even more after this. I don’t want anything to happen to us, especially not my baby. I can’t even feel my my baby moving anymore. I would never forgive myself if something goes wrong!”Y/n cried into Anita’s arms, her body weak and in pain as she awaits the arrival of her baby. “Listen, I know things are hard right now, but I promise you have a lot of support. You’ll get through this and nothing will happen to either of you. Just so you know, there’s someone outside that waiting to be by your side so I’m gonna go sit in the waiting room while you’re here and after the birth of my Godbaby, the person will come and call me when you decide that you allow visitors, ok?” Anita asked calmly as Y/n slowly nodded her head, feeling herself slip into sleep.
Anita walked out the door signalling for Lewis to go in as she went to the waiting room. Y/n was about to drift off into sleep when she heard the door open and turned her head to look at the intruder, only to find the father of her soon to be born baby smiling at her with flowers in his hand and a water bottle in the other. “Lewis? How did you find me?!” Y/n asked surprised as to how he could’ve known about this happening. “I found out through instagram and your friend Anita who I had been in touch with since your fifth month. How are you holding up? I got you some flowers” Lewis spoke to her softly and he placed the vases flowers on the table and sat next to her holding her hand. “I’m drained, scared, worried, sad, happy. I don’t know what to feel.” Y/n expresses as the tears started flowing once again. “You’ll be fine sweetheart, don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing an amazing job and it’s not your fault for what happened, just know that I will love our baby either way” Lewis reassured as he placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
The process sped up as Y/n was now fully dilated and was ready to push, the fear, worry and extreme anxiety started rushing through Y/n veins as she cried for her baby to be ok, with Lewis whispering gentle words and prayers into her ears. “C’mon Y/n, you’ll be fine and our baby will be healthy. You’re strong and resilient, I know you can do this. Just one more push and we’re done” Lewis encouraged but was met with “No, I can’t do this anymore! It hurts Lew, it hurts! Please let them make it stop!”Y/n screamed into Lewis’ now tear soaked shirt as he rubbed her back and kissed her sweaty forehead. “Yes you can do it, the head is already out, we just need one last push and you’re done, the pain will not be so severe. Just take a deep breath and push when you’re ready, yeah?” Lewis encouraged once more, resulting in a war cry from Y/n that almost shook the room as their baby came sliding out fully into the world.
“Omg, congratulations Ms. Y/n. You’ve just welcome the most healthy and beautiful baby boy!” The doctor cheered as he placed the newborn onto her chest, Y/n and Lewis crying their eyes out at the sight of their son. The doctors then cleaned up and did all the necessary checks and paperwork for both Y/n and the baby before they were left to privacy.
“He’s adorable” Lewis sue as he held his son skin to skin on his bare chest. “I never thought I’d have kids this early, but I’m glad I did now. I guess I felt like I was too old to tart having kids no and I was originally gonna give up, but seeing what we created made me change my mind. I know you have a name for him, Anita told me it was special but I don’t know what it is?” Lewis asked as he placed the baby into the bassinet. “I don’t know if you’ll like it, I wanted to name him Milo Nicholas Anthony Hamilton” Y/n said with tears gathering in her eyes as he saw Lewis completely break down at the honour in his son’s name. “I love it, and I know that my dad and brother will love it too” Lewis said between sniffles as he hugged a postpartum Y/n who has fallen asleep.
Lewis then made his way back over to the bassinet, picking up his baby and walking around with him. “Hi Milo, I’m your daddy. I know you might be confused as you never heard my voice while you were in mummy’s tummy, but I promise you that I’m here now and you will never have to worry about not hearing me again. I promise to always be there to guide and protect both you and your mummy. I promise to try to be the best father that myself allows and to lows be there for you in any situation. I want you to know that I love you and mummy very much, I think I might ask her to marry me. What do you think bud? But anyways I know you’re sleeping soI’m gonna put you back down and let you rest. Good night my sweet boy” Lewis declared as he kissed the baby’s forehead and placed him back in the bassinet, scooting into the hospital bed to cuddle with Y/n as he fell asleep knowing that he now had a family of his own after years of waiting.
The next day, a post was made that informed everyone of the precious surprise that spun the world of its axis.
LewisHamilton: I wanted to inform you all that I welcomed my first child yesterday night. Milo Nicholas Anthony Hamilton is a blessing In my life and will now become my biggest priority (of course above F1) no doubt.
The comments for this post has been restricted.
#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton x oc#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton fanfic#toto wolff
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Reprisal | Chapter Sixteen
coriolanus snow x gaul oc
Summary: Ten years after the Tenth Hunger Games, Coriolanus Snow is under Dr. Volumnia Gaul’s wing as a Gamemaker alongside her niece. Unbeknownst to either of them, they’re both being prepared for a much greater task.
Warning: This story will contain explicit violence against adults and children alike (I mean, it’s Dr. Gaul AND Snow) as well as explicit language, and sexual situations.
***This fic is in no way, shape, or form, me endorsing or co-signing the horrific shit Snow does, nor am I trying to romanticize it. Also, apathy and will be the main driving force of any remnants of a relationship between my OC and Snow’s character. So if you’re interested in something very romantic and fluffy…it’s not gonna be this.
Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!
HERE LIES OUR PRIDE:
CYRUS ALISTAIR GAUL
HERE LIES OUR STRENGTH:
CICERO BARNABAS GAUL
HERE LIES OUR PATIENCE:
CONSUS GALEN GAUL
HERE LIES OUR GENTLENESS:
MAGNUS CECIL GAUL
Tawny glances over the etched marble, marking the resting places of her brothers, echoed with what their father had always said of his children:
“Cyrus is my pride , Cicero is my strength , Consus is my patience , Magnus is my gentleness , and Tawny is my joy .”
When Tullia was born, he’d piped, “Oh, my light .”
Brown eyes now shift to the stone beside her brothers.
HERE LIES OUR LIGHT:
TULLIA CALLIOPE GAUL CRANE
Crane.
Her mind shifts to the last time she had seen Dyess.
He can see she hasn’t slept, dark bags under her eyes that are puffy and red from crying. Her hair matted as if she didn’t bother trying to fix it before rolling out of bed and coming here.
Little does he know she hasn’t even gone to bed, too distraught to will herself off the couch.
“Get it out of your system,” Coriolanus had told her. “By the time he’s executed you need to have your hands washed of him.”
So she allowed herself to go ahead and feel everything she could.
Wallow in the sorrow of the death of their future together entirely with no hope for a possible reconciliation.
He looks far worse off than she does.
His cobalt blue eyes are bloodshot, face raw and red with his own tearful grief.
Taking a step forward, they’re both reminded of their surroundings at the sound of his shackles echoing in the cell.
For a moment, they keep five feet between one another, but after taunting silence that mocks her for what a horrid wife she’s been, she can’t keep away, stepping to him quickly, wrapping her arms around him.
Dr. Gaul watches from two-way glass, grimacing at the sight, lip nearly curling at the sound of Dyess’ tears.
“I didn’t do it, T.” He says, pulling from her, the words nearly catching in his throat before he coughs, cheeks wet with tears, the back of his hand rattling with it’s chain when he reaches up to wipe it away only for Tawny to do so for him. . .her fingertips linger against his cheek.
“Murder the President, or sabotage my work?” She asks him, confirming to him that she knows.
His face scrunches once more, shame clearly cloaking his features, eyes abruptly looking to the floor as his shoulders shake with his sobs.
She focuses on her anger as best she can to keep from joining him in his sorrows – remembering the years she’s put into her career, the hours, the resources, money, mental and physical space her cases have all taken up in her lab, in her mind. . .all for him to discard that hard work with a year of screwing her over to belittle her – to dim her so he appeared brighter.
“You took vows, Dyess, to love me and protect me and you. . .” She trails off as he cries once more. “. . .and you betrayed me.”
Rich words coming from her in her affair-riddled past with Coriolanus.
“I know.” He shakily repeats, eyes still on the floor.
“. . .And then your country.” She adds, his attention snapping from their feet, to finally meet her eyes once more.
“No.” He shakes his head, getting a grip on himself as he raises his brows. “Tawny, I didn’t do it, I swear.”
It’s a test that Tawny knows she’s being graded on; either tell him she believes him, or convict him for actions he did not make.
“They found evidence, Dyess. They found the plans in your writing, they found your DNA on the gun –”
“ – I didn’t do it, Tawny, I swear!” He pleads. Growing frantic. “I didn’t shoot him, you were with me the whole night!”
“They’re not saying you shot him, Dyess.” She reminds him, clarifying it evenly.
“I didn’t plan it, I don’t know who shot him – I didn’t plan this, Tawny!” He shouts sporadically.
“Who did, then, Dyess?!” She says in the same tone. “Because you were the one with the layout of the Presidential Palace, you were the one with the contacts to the gunman, you were the one paid off Peacekeepers to smuggle the gun into the Capitol –”
“I didn’t do it! I didn’t do any of it!” He argues, shaking his head. “Tawny, I swear, I promise, I didn’t do this, you can’t let them do this to me!” He pleads, getting on his knees, arms wrapping around her, soaked face wetting her shirt as her heart sinks to her stomach, a lump forming in her throat. “They’re going to torture me to death, Tawny. I didn’t do it, I promise, I swear.”
His cries are muffled by her hip as he goes on, her shaking fingers resting on his shoulders as he wails against her.
She lets him for a few moments, finally taking in a last breath before holding her chin a little higher.
“I can’t trust you, Dyess. Not anymore. Not after you lied to me for so long.” She says it gently but stern, grasping his arms at an attempt to peel him off of her, moving away from him, but he grabs her hands.
“Tawny, please, I love you, please, Tawny, please –”
“ – Dyess,” She grasps his hands in hers, raising her brows, speaking to him in the tone she would use to a child having a fit. “This is the bed you have made.” She adds, repeating Coriolanus’ words. “I will no longer lie in it with you. I can’t. You have to let me go.”
His knuckles shine white as he tightens his grip on her hands, blue eyes shutting as more tears trickle down the unshaven skin of his face as he desperately croaks, “Tawny, please, don’t leave! Don’t leave me!”
“I have to go, Dyess. You have to let me go.” She pries herself away from him, and he goes to follow her but is held back by the shackles anchoring him to the floor.
The last words he speaks to her is a blood-curdling scream of, “Tawny, please!”
Her attention now falls to the diamond on her finger, signifying her future as Mrs. Tawny Pinnacle.
Or Dr. Tawny Pinnacle?
Does she even want to work again? Surely if Pias secures the Presidency, she’ll have to tend to whatever it is the First Lady
does. . .read to children? Host luncheons? Attend charity events?
She frowns at the thought, preferring the company of vicious mutts compared to the high class biddies of Capitol Society.
There’s a chance she very well won’t be First Lady.
Coriolanus has a decent shot, himself.
She can’t help but wonder how he feels about her and Pias.
He can’t be angry — he’s no right to be.
He is the one with a pregnant wife.
Surely he had known they couldn’t go on forever sneaking around with one another.
An affair is not sustainable, after all.
Letting out a breath, she’s gently pressing her finger tips against each slab of marked marble, bidding her silent goodbye to the graves of her brothers and daughter before stepping out of the Gaul family crypt.
Snow taps an impatient foot against the floor, forefinger and middle finger pressed to his lips as his thumb holds at his chin, watching Livia run on and on.
First about crib bedding, then about how long she’s due out on maternity leave, then she goes into a rant about how her dress she’s gotten — for the debate taking place within the next week — will no longer button, which means his cousin will have to rush to alter it to better suit her growing stomach.
“ . . . What’s wrong?” She asks, taking notice of his utter disinterest, when he usually doesn’t mind her ramblings and most time interjects in conversation.
“My mind is preoccupied at the moment, darling.” He confesses with a sigh, sitting up and rubbing his forehead with his finger tips before clearing his throat.
“You’ll win, Coryo.” She assures him for certain, stepping to him, lips pressing to his temple as she adds, “The Capitol isn’t so ignorant to completely overlook your resume as a Gamemaker, what you’ve implemented in the Games, your efforts with Dr. Gaul for stricter security and observation throughout the Districts . . . you’ve been putting the glory of Panem first for years without even being a politician, and have the sanctions to prove it. So, surely they’ll imagine how wonderful it can all be if you are given the opportunity to truly have the say-so without the need of pesky approval.”
“You and I both know the citizens of the Capitol do not actually have a say in the matter. Their votes are purely a decoration to the decision of the Capitol .” He mutters bitterly, learning years back there was a strict distinction between the two: ‘The Capitol’ was the collective bout of citizens, as well as a place, as well as the ominous “powers that be” that shrouded political matters and kept close to the President.
The Capitol ultimately killed Ravinstill – as ironic as that would sound to a regular citizen . . .
“I’m not so sure that they favor me.” He mumbles, next.
“If they didn’t favor you, you wouldn’t still be alive.” Livia’s harsh reality strikes him.
She has a point.
A good one, at that.
“They certainly favor Pias.” He adds, raising his brows.
“They don’t favor him. They favor his fiancee because she’s a Gaul, positioned to inherit the daunting Gaul legacy.” She replies. “How a First Lady will also head the War Department, whilst also being Head Gamemaker is beyond me – she’ll have to run on stimulants to keep going.”
“I don’t see Tawny running the War Department – or even being Head Gamemaker.” He retorts with a scoff.
Livia’s brows furrow for a split moment at him casually saying, “Tawny,” outside of his typical, “Dr. Gaul.”
He speaks her name so effortlessly . . .
“Why do you say that?” She asks him, next.
“She’s too . . .” He tries to find the word to describe the youngest Gaul, unable to do so. “She runs.” Is all he can come up with. “The moment something gets too hard or uncomfortable, or complicated, she leaves.” It’s nearly gritted out before he’s adding, “War is far too uncomfortably complicated for her to dependably do her job should she ever be in that position.”
Another beat of silence passes between them before she’s rubbing her lips together, and stating, “You’re going to be President. And you will have control over who does what. And you can put someone more comfortable with complications as the head of your War Department.” She assures him. “But you will be President.” Another kiss to his temple. “The best one we’ve had.”
He wants to believe her words, he knows very well he will eventually run the country, he’s just not entirely sure it will be this soon.
In fact, it’s the first time in years he’s not entirely sure about much of anything.
In the week leading up to the debate, Snow and Pinnacle both spend hours in preparation, making sure they have politically correct yet effective answers to any questions or topics that might come up.
Lucky Flickerman is rather good at fanning the flames of competition each day he reviews recent pole numbers, flashes clips of citizen interviews he composes at random to test the gauge of the political climate in the Capitol out of curiosity of knowing who is voting for who, and why.
The theatrics are a sham.
Pias and Coriolanus both know it.
Perhaps Lucky even knows it, but still entertains this notion that the Capitol of Panem can reliably vote for someone to take care of them all on their own.
“ . . . He’s got a reputable resume, but . . . He’s a kid. ” The elderly woman explains to Lucky as Tawny watches with furrowed brows.
“ No, no, he’s a grown man .” Lucky politely reminds her of Coriolanus’ age, to which she replies, “ Pinnacle has twenty-years of wisdom and experience over Snow. If I hire a chauffeur, do you think I trust the one who’s only had their license for one week, or one decade ?”
The television is cut off with Tigris’ huff of air, the two women sitting quietly in the living room.
“They’re tearing him apart.” Tawny mutters with a frown, pulling her heels on.
“Coriolanus is a big boy.” Tigris states, standing and grabbing her glass. “He expected this, he’s letting it roll off his back.”
“How is he?” Tigris tenses when it’s asked, the glass gently placed in the sink as Tawny awaits her reply.
“He’s good.” She assures her. “Stressed, but good.”
“ . . . And Livia ?”
The distaste is practically visible as it drips off Tawny’s lips.
“As far as I know she’s good. She had a small scare from a little bleeding, but her doctor told her it wasn’t anything to worry about.” She explains.
“Oh.” Tawny mutters, breathing out.
The inside of her lip is raw from her teeth, her tongue aches from her biting into it to keep from asking her next question that she inevitably cannot hold back any longer, “Does he ever ask about me?”
Tigris comes back into view.
“He’s married, Tawny.” She says, blonde brows raised as Tawny sighs out and rubs her forehead. “And you’re engaged.” She adds. “His opponent is your fiancé.”
“I’m not asking because of that , Tigris, I just . . .” She trails off, too prideful to admit she misses him at times.
Instead she says, “We weren’t just sleeping together. We were friends. And now he probably loathes me for being with Pias.”
Tigris huffs out a breath and steps back to the sofa Tawny’s on, sitting down before saying, “He thinks you’re moving too quickly.”
Her dark brows furrow, as she asks, “He told you that?”
“Yes.”
It was the truth.
He had snarled at Tigris’ own copy of the newspaper and had bitten out, “ It’s ninety or nothing with her. What is she doing? ”
Tigris also agreed her friend was moving too fast for her liking.
It seemed unhealthy and too codependent, too reliant.
As if she couldn’t bear to be by herself after Dyess so she latched onto the next man that showed her the slightest touch of attention.
Though Tigris also knew, deep down, it wasn’t Pias’ attention Tawny had been fishing for.
“Oh.” Tawny says, irritated with the fact Snow had commented at all, but amused nonetheless.
It had gotten under his skin, and she knew it.
She had gotten under his skin.
His perfect, smooth, pristine skin that she misses running her fingertips over in the aftermath of their time spent, memorizing how he appeared as he slept.
“ You look so peaceful when you sleep ,” She had once informed him with a gentle smile.
“ Do I not appear peaceful any other time ?” He had asked her with a scoff whilst he sat up in his bed next to her and swung his legs off the side of it.
“ You’re not a peaceful man .” She had blatantly blurted to him in response.
He wasn’t .
Not to her.
It had been further confirmed with him framing Dyess.
He didn’t just frame him, the voice in her head starts, Your aunt and your fiancé did so, too .
She thinks back to her last meeting with Dyess again.
His cries, his brokenness.
Volumnia Gaul did that.
Coriolanus Snow did that.
Pias Pinnacle did that.
Dyess’ blood was on their hands, and it unsettles Tawny, she can’t deny it.
But she also can’t shake the feeling that perhaps Coriolanus was right:
Someone had to take the blame for the assassination.
Ravinstill had to go. Dyess had to go.
It had to be done.
Then her mind starts to wonder what other tragedies or misfortunes struck the Capitol or even Panem as a whole that was orchestrated by its own government to stimulate a change — to fix a problem, or at least something a select few deemed as a problem.
Or worse: what had been carried out and covered up to save face?
It’s as if her mind is already a step ahead of her without her knowledge, immediately recalling Pias’ smug comment some nights ago about potential mudslinging with Snow if it came down to it:
“ One mutter of the Tenth Hunger Games and he’ll be done for completely .”
She had overheard it while he was entertaining Albus Shoemake in the parlor of his apartment, Tawny and Dayla refilling their own glasses and re-entering, only to catch the smart remark – the tailend of a conversation they hadn’t wanted either woman to hear.
But they did hear it, indeed, and decided to pretend not to.
Dayla works for Coriolanus, and is more than likely biting at her nails to decide if she should mention it to him or not.
All Dayla could remember of that year's Hunger Games was that it was a clusterfuck from the jump, but various details had been made fuzzy with time and the burial of the event.
Albus had told her not to mention anything of it ever again once it was all said and done, and she did just that,
And Tawny. . . She was too preoccupied grieving her daughter to care anything about the Tenth Games when they happened.
She didn’t watch any of the coverage when it happened because she didn’t want to watch any of the coverage – she didn’t want to watch any of the coverage.
But now, with Pias’ remark and her own close-ties with Coriolanus, she can’t help but bring it up later in the evening, on the way back from dinner.
“. . . I have a question,” She giggles out at the feeling of his lips against her neck, hands holding at her hips whilst she outright straddles him in the back of the car. “Pias.” She pulls from him, holding his face in her hands so he has to look at her.
“Hmm?” He asks, his mind swimming with only one thought as he leans back in to kiss her.
She lets him, letting out a breathy sigh when she pulls away, again, asking, “Do you have access to my Aunt’s archives?”
“Archives?”
She nods, fingertips running along his jaw.
“Her case archives, or . . . ?”
“The Games.” She corrects, rubbing her swollen lips together, his eyes focusing on them.
“I might.” He informs her with another kiss to her lips. “But you no longer have the clearance to dig through them.”
“Oh, come on, darling, they play reruns, anyway.” She rolls her eyes.
“Exactly.” He chuckles. “Why not just watch those?”
“Because I want a specific year.”
“And what year might that be?” He asks, holding back a groan when she deliberately shifts in his lap, playing it off innocently before kissing him once more, her tongue brushing against his before she breaks it to whisper, “the Tenth.”
She can see him fight with himself, his eyes giving away too much thought behind them.
“Why do you want that one?” He questions, brows furrowing.
“Because I didn’t get to see it after Tullia died. . .” She trails off, hoping the crack in her voice is convincing enough to guilt him somewhat.
“I’m sorry, dear, but I can’t.” He finally says to her, brushing a few pieces of hair from her hair.
“Why not?”
“It. . .your aunt wanted that year’s destroyed.” He informs her. “It no longer exists.”
“ Destroyed ?” She doesn’t have to exaggerate her confusion.
“So much went wrong that year, it just. . .it was too much of a mess to even be entertaining, honestly.” He lies. “So once it was over she wanted any copies of it destroyed. She doesn’t even have a copy.” Another lie – one that Tawny struggles to believe.
She can’t picture her aunt throwing out any recording of children killing each other.
No matter how large of a wreck it might’ve been.
“Oh.” She pouts.
“But, I’ll see if I can borrow any other year for you.” He suggests, a faux smile coming back to her lips.
She should have known Pias wouldn’t tell her the truth, her gears turning up a new idea just as her fiance is pressing his lips along her jaw.
Coriolanus had always told her the truth – perhaps omitted the truth to her a few times – but he hadn’t lied to her.
If he had anything to do with the Tenth Games the way Pias had insinuated in his talk with Albus, her best bet is to ask him directly, is it not?
It’s a conflict of interest, certainly, and breaks her attempt to keep neutral between her future husband and the man she’s had an affair with. If Snow even thinks Pias is throwing around such threats. . .
Then of course, Pias would demand to know where Snow had even heard such a thing.
All roads would lead back to either Dayla or Tawny mentioning something to Snow about it, all roads would reveal the two women had overheard Pinnacle’s words and ran to his opponent to warn him.
Pias would leave her.
But if she tells Snow, and makes him swear to pretend as if he doesn’t know anything about it, then surely he would dig up something on Pias, too, correct? And knowing Snow, he would make sure whatever he’d find on Pias would be ten times worse than his own misdoings, and –
She has to stop herself.
The man underneath her, groping her, whose car she’s in the back seat of, whose ring she’s wearing on her finger, whose very name she’s going to take shortly, is her life, now.
She cannot fantasize about her ex-lover running her life into the ground – again .
Wiping the slate of her thoughts clean, she anchors herself back into reality and tries to keep her mind from straying back to Coriolanus as her fiance slips his hand under her dress.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x gaul oc#coriolanus snow x oc#coriolanus snow smut#young!coriolanus snow
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The Retired Colourman pt 2
Last time we met possibly the most pathetic person ever to have lived, if the several different descriptions of him were to be believed. He is just the most pathetic little man.
Also, his wife has either run off with all his money, or he killed her, or a secret third thing.
Also he has a prosthetic leg... I think. Not sure if that's going to be relevant or not. It feels like the kind of detail that might be relevant to something. Footprints or... he hid something inside the prosthetic, but I don't know if they had hollow prosthetics at the time.
Well, The Most Pathetic Man in The World™️was given a lead (possibly a ruse) by Holmes and didn't want to pursue it, which seems kind of sus since it could lead to both his missing wife and his missing life's savings.
Although, as a terminally lazy person, I feel like I cannot cast aspersions on this. I too would prefer to wallow in misery and let wife and savings go if the alternative required travelling somewhere and (horror of horrors) talking to someone.
“I mean the wire which you sent to Mr. Josiah Amberley about his wife and his money.”
“If this is a joke, sir, it is a very questionable one,” said the vicar angrily. “I have never heard of the gentleman you name, and I have not sent a wire to anyone.”
Ha! It was a ruse. But whose ruse was it? Holmes? The villain? The Most Pathetic Man in The World™️?
“There is only one vicarage, sir, and only one vicar, and this wire is a scandalous forgery, the origin of which shall certainly be investigated by the police. Meanwhile, I can see no possible object in prolonging this interview.”
Gonna get the police involved because someone sent a telegram in my name. I know it is stolen identity and fraud and impersonating a member of the clergy, but that instant reaction is very serious.
I got into touch with Holmes, who shared in our amazement at the result of our journey.
“Most singular!” said the distant voice. “Most remarkable! I much fear, my dear Watson, that there is no return train to-night. I have unwittingly condemned you to the horrors of a country inn."
Oh yeah, it was absolutely Holmes' ruse. He wanted Amberley the Pathetic to be out of the way for a bit and he needed Watson to keep an eye on him. He timed it perfectly so they would miss the last train. He is a menace.
"However, there is always Nature, Watson—Nature and Josiah Amberley—you can be in close commune with both.”
How many times are you going to slut-shame Watson this story, Holmes.
'Commune' with both nature and Amberley....
“If they are not worth more than the last ones they are not of much use, ” said Amberley with a malevolent scowl.
The more time we spend with him, the more sympathy I have with his wife. Cheating and stealing still bad, but why did she ever marry this man in the first place? Even societal expectations can't have been that pressing.
Maybe she literally did it to steal his money. I guess gold digger is an old profession, after all. But even so. I didn't think he had that much money. It would have to have been an awful lot to put up with him.
A stern-looking, impassive man sat beside him, a dark man with gray-tinted glasses and a large Masonic pin projecting from his tie.
Ah, so the mysterious stranger from last time wasn't in fact Holmes in disguise. It was actually a mysterious stranger.
I guess that had to happen sometime.
“What is the question, Mr. Holmes?”
“Only this: What did you do with the bodies?”
In a flash we got a glimpse of the real Josiah Amberley, a misshapen demon with a soul as distorted as his body. As he fell back into his chair he clapped his hand to his lips as if to stifle a cough. Holmes sprang at his throat like a tiger and twisted his face towards the ground. A white pellet fell from between his gasping lips.
There is a lot to unpack here. First 'demon', second, once again 'the evil person looks evil trope. Third... he has a suicide pill WTF?!?!
Why the fuck does he have a suicide pill? How does that even make sense? We are missing so much of this story.
“We don't seem to have got any real facts yet, Mr. Holmes."
Thank you, Inspector.
"He has, to a high degree, the sort of mind which one associates with the mediaeval Italian nature rather than with the modern Briton."
Ah, what could be more British than casual stereotyping of continental Europeans? You know Machiavelli wasn't writing about the average Italian, right Holmes?
"Why should this man at such a time be filling his house with strong odours? Obviously, to cover some other smell which he wished to conceal—some guilty smell which would suggest suspicions."
Did not think of it being odour cover-up. Or eau de cover-up, I guess... huh.
“It is masterly,” said the inspector in an awed voice.
“There being no fear of interruption I proceeded to burgle the house. Burglary has always been an alternative profession had I cared to adopt it, and I have little doubt that I should have come to the front."
Holmes... maybe... don't tell the police officer that you burgled somewhere. Even if it is the home of a murderer in order to find evidence of said murder. This is not a good idea. This is a very bad idea. Why did you just say this?
"...but why he should have gone to you I can't understand.”
“Pure swank!” Holmes answered. “He felt so clever and so sure of himself that he imagined no one could touch him."
The remarkable acumen by which Inspector MacKinnon deduced from the smell of paint that some other smell, that of gas, for example, might be concealed; the bold deduction that the strong-room might also be the death-chamber, and the subsequent inquiry which led to the discovery of the bodies in a disused well, cleverly concealed by a dog-kennel, should live in the history of crime as a standing example of the intelligence of our professional detectives.
“Well, well, MacKinnon is a good fellow,” said Holmes with a tolerant smile. “You can file it in our archives, Watson. Some day the true story may be told.”
Do you think Watson saves these up until the police officer in question pisses him off in some way, then publishes them?
Well, this one was weird af. Still don't get the suicide pill. If he was so arrogant as to hire the detective to investigate his own crime, then why would he think there was any reason for a suicide pill?
Also, Mr Barker the alternate Sherlock Holmes... who is a Mason. The weirdness just continues. This is a bit like when a TV show has a backdoor pilot for a spin off that never happens. In some other universe there was a whole series of Mr Barker Investigates that ACD wrote. What a strange world that would be.
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Well, this is gonna be my last time talking about what happened with Wilbur and I want to put it to rest here.
With it now being 100% confirmed to be him and with his dog shit apology I want to make it EXTRA clear that I despise that man and do not support him whatsoever.
I may still interact with characters he's made IN THE PAST (aka bursonas and c!wilbur) but I will not be talking about anything he could make in the future.
This has been a massive smear upon a large portion of my life, my inspirations, my interests. As many could be traced back to that overgrown weed disguised in human skin.
But I'm going to take something away from all this. I WILL be better than him, I will be everything he despises and be proud of it.
Ultimately, it's ok if this situation hurt to deal with and if you struggle to remember anything he's had his hands on.
But please, remember you aren't him. Those memories and experiences you had, despite being tainted now, you can still look back and smile. There's no shame in that.
But it's also important to remember him for what he really is, an abuser, simply put.
You can still move on in your life, you can still look back with happiness, and you can still hate what he truly is. All these can and should coexist.
As for me, I'm doing better about all of this. It still hurts, believe me. But I'm not going to sit down and wallow.
I'll consider this the time to take a bow and prepare for my future, I'll be more real to myself than ever.
It's time to keep going forward, at least for me.
#the serious stuff tag#bursonas#wilbur soot#lovejoy#ghostbur's my oc now btw :)#I said so#sorry if this sounds dramatic I become a poet when I'm pissed#don't expect many more bursonas posts from me though I'm pretty much done outside of rare moments#they're all my ocs now to :)#I don't really know what else to say drink water and love those around you I guess
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Room’s on Fire: Bonus Chapter: Go Insane
In the Room's on Fire universe, Jonah's POV. Takes place the day before the pilot.
Summary: Jonah is told who he will be escorting to the ceremony. Iris pities her father.
Warnings: General dark themes of ROF, do not read if that' not your thing. Mentions of abuse, SA, alcoholism, father-daughter strain, death wish, all that. By clicking read more you understand I cannot warn against everything.
***************
"Two kinds of people in this world
Winners, losers
I lost my power in this world
Because I did not use it
And I go insane like I always do
And I call your name, she's a lot like you
Two kinds of trouble in this world
Living, dying
I lost my power in this world
And the rumors are flying" Go Insane, Lindsey Buckingham
Drinking was the only way to get through the day, most of the time. Jonah functioned with a buzz most days, something to dull the ache, something to make looking at Iris sweating in the kitchen, bags under her eyes as she slaves away because of him. Something to make it bearable as he watches her dancing with Reyansh, knowing he’ll never hold her like that again. It’s the only way he can suffer through life knowing Jessica is dead just for being his wife.
Knowing all the women and men he’s loved are dead. Not all were his fault, but even if they weren’t… he felt like everything he touches burned down.
Knowing nearly everyone he’s loved even non romantically was dead, and that just meant Iris and Rey were next.
Knowing once Iris is dead, there was no reason for him to be alive.
“Jonah” Santiago walked into his room without knocking. Jonah wasn’t allowed locks.
Jonah rolled his eyes before rolling over. He didn’t like Santiago. Hated him. Yeah, honestly, the fact he was a sniveling little psychopath brat was his fault, seeing as he was the main male figure in his life. Jonah probably fucked up that chubby little toddler too.
“What?” No need for niceties and formalities. Jonah has known Santiago and Frankie since before they could talk.
“We found our madonna. You gotta bring her here tomorrow for the wedding.”
Jonah rubbed his eyes. “What the hell is a madonna?” Grunting, he began to sit up. He couldn’t keep up with this bullshit anymore, Beatriz liked to change things.
“The madonna.” He said, as if it was obvious. “She’s gonna marry us, give birth to the savior?” Nothing.
“What the fuck is a savior?”
Santiago groaned, rolling his eyes. “The one mighty and strong? Savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?”
“Santi what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Jonah.”
“Oooohhhh” Jonah said with a sarcastic edge, rubbing his bleary eyes. “I thought you were supposed to be the messiah.”
Santi shot him a look so dirty Jonah wondered if he’d take out his gun and shoot him for that, but Jonah wasn’t really sure he cared enough to try and stop it.
Instead, he continued. “The savior.” He corrected sharply. “And I think you’re well aware of our doctrine, seeing as you spent more time with my mother than I did.”
“Your mom kept me a little too busy to worry much about theology.”
Santiago stared at him for a long time after that. “You know, I don't really know why I kept you around. I could’ve just burned you alongside Marcus.”
“Probably should’ve.” He thought about it sometimes. Would’ve been easier. Sometimes, Jonah wished he would’ve died right there with his friend instead of drinking himself to death, wallowing in his guilt every day. But, as always, Santiago was quick to remind him why he couldn’t just swallow the barrel of a gun.
Bent over, hands on his knees, Santi got to Jonah’s eye level. “But then who would be here to protect Iris? It’d be a shame if she had to suffer more for the sins of her father.”
As good a threat as Jonah’s ever heard. He sighed. “Who's the lucky lady?”
And then Santiago said her name, and Jonah’s blood ran cold, more sober than he’d been in a week.
“You know her?” Santiago asked, and Jonah couldn’t tell if he was taunting him or not. “Marcus’s kid?”
“Yes, I’m familiar.” He was more than familiar. He’d been following her life as closely as he could while remaining discreet. It was the least he could do after Marcus took the fall. He’d watched he grow from a traumatized 12 year old forced to dance as her father burned to death next to her, to a shy, reverent, respectful young woman of 22 years. Jonah couldn’t say she’d adjusted well; she was nervous, jerky movements and startling at loud noises, she didn’t have a single friend. From what he knew of her prior to the uprising, she was an awkward child already: inward, quiet, thoughtful. Social interactions didn’t come easy to her, but she was devout and had a talent in painting at a young age. The few friends she had were gone when her father was outed as a traitor, and for 10 years she was estranged from her community.
Now, she was about to be thrust into one of the most powerful roles there was for women.
“Yeah, I’m familiar… what exactly is she doing?”
Santi explained it all, how she was to be married to all of them, pregnant with their child, be the Madonna, the mother (but not the Divine Mother, he clarified).
Married to all 4 of them, each with their own issued a girl as sensitive as her would suffer with.
Santiago and his constantly changing moods, the flashed of fire and rage and unpredictable cold.
Will with his charm, his golden tongue, his ability to talk you out of the good and into the bad that serves him.
Ben and his addictions: alcoholism, coke and a fuck ton of sex with everyone he could get his hands on, despite breaking Frankie’s heart.
And Frankie…
Frankie was softer, kind, a lover at heart caught in a love triangle he never wanted. Francisco was a broken down man, and a girl as gentle and devoted to her gods as she was would give every piece of herself to fill the cracks.
“Think you can handle it?” Santi asked, jerking him out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, whatever” Jonah took out his bottle again, taking multiple big chugs to numb that growing panic. He’d done everything he could to keep her under the radar for Marcus and yet he was the one taking her right into the den of vipers.
Santi mumbled a swear. “Just have her at the house by 2 pm for Iris to dress her and help her get her thing in the carriage.” He almost left, walking out the door before turning around. “Lay one single hand on her, and I’ll throw Iris to Ben, got it?”
Jonah couldn’t help but glare at the younger man. “She’s 30 years younger than me, Santiago. That’s disgusting.”
Santi shrugged. “She’s about the same age Delilah was.” And walked off.
He knew that’d shut Jonah up.
World spinning, Jonah laid back down and rubbed his eyes, trying to fight back tears of frustration. He was failing, constantly. He failed Jessica, Delilah, Marcus, Iris and now he would literally be walking the only thing left of Marcus, and innocent child, traumatized and desperate for affection that was stripped away from her at a young age. She ripe for the picking, ready to do anything to feel loved.
Anger at himself only growing, Jonah’s feet kick as he growled and pulled on his hair. He was a fucking failure of a father, husband and friend. Everyone he loved would be dead, including his daughter, the one who mattered most and was suffering because of him. She deserved different. She deserved better. Better than him. She deserved a happy life with Reyansh and he ruined all prospects of that for her and she would die miserable and hating him just like everyone else.
“You’re fucking pathetic.” He announced to himself, glancing over to see himself in the mirror. Had he always looked this old? No… no he had some good years left in him still… he had to get his shit together.
Marcus would absolutely never, ever just lay down and drink himself to death. He wouldn’t just wallow in his fucking misery. Marcus would fight for change every chance he had, and Marcus would never in a million years have just taken Iris to this fucking house left her. He’d have protected Iris like she was his own.
Jonah sat up and stumbled to the mirror. He looked fucking awful. Uncombed hair and a gray beard, looking like he hasn’t slept in years. He had to fucking pull himself together. He had to help Marcus’s kid survive the whirlwind she was walking into.
He needed to fucking shave.
*
Iris heard a crash from her dads room. She almost didn’t go investigate; she wanted to sleep. But then she heard the sound of vomiting, and as much as she wanted to have as little involvement in her fathers binge drinking, fucking, moping around, she couldn’t let it go.
“Jonah?” She called, walking into his room. At first Iris didn’t see him, but then she saw two legs sticking out of the bathroom. Walking over, she found him propped up against the tub that had puke in it and blood on his face. He was gripping a razor. “Dad!” Iris ran to him, taking the razor out of his hand. He was too drunk to behandling that.
“I’m-” Hickup. “Fine, honey.”
“Why are you bleeding!”
“I was trying to shave.” Jonah’s words were slurred, head bobbing a bit as he chuckled. “It didn’t go well.”
Iris closed her eyes and sighed. For a moment, she had thought he was trying to hurt himself, leaving her behind like the coward he was… No, he was just shaving. Once again, she wanted to walk away, go find Rey and spend her limited freetime with her lover… but fuck, he locked pathetic like this. Half his beard shaved off, bleeding, puke on his lips and about ready to pass out.
“C’mon, up” Iris assisted her dad in standing long enough to sit on the toilet where she cleaned off his face and rinsed the puke down the drain. Then, she covered his face in shaving cream. Careful of his fresh cut, which wasn’t all that deep, Iris bent over Jonah and carefully shaved his face, her non dominant hand tenderly holding him still. She tried not to look at him, looking up at her with his sad brown eyes. She didn’t want to feel more sorry for him than she already did. She was supposed to be angry.
After patting his face dry, Iris slung his arm over her shoulder and walked Jonah to bed.
“I don’t deserve you.” He mumbled as she pulled the blanket over him.
She wanted to say no, you don’t. You were never there for me. You never put me first. You didn’t protect me . But that would get them nowhere.
“Go to sleep. We got a busy day tomorrow.”
He started snoring almost immediately. Iris bent over and kissed his cheek.
***************
Jonah Jonah Jonah.... he's trying his best.
Go Insane is soooooooooo Jonah coded.
I've been learning about the mormons for my research apaper, so "the one mighty and strong" is now joining terms for the baby alongside "the savior of the broke, the beaten and the damned"
I'm so eepy and must go to work. chapter 12 is slow going. Got writers block rn so im sorry. school comes first.
you guys voted rey your fav oc which made me so happy. I love my lil guy.
@winniethewife @femmeanonymelives @yorksgirl @pockcock @neverwheremoonchild @casa-boiardi @meveispunk @survivingandenduring @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @obscurexsorrows @hellfire-state-of-mind @christinamadsen @pimosworld @princessanglophile @rubyfruitjungle @simple-lovebot @missdictatorme @campingwiththecharmings @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @javier-penas-wifexx420 @stefani-topaz @alwaysmicado @mjnomaryjane @incorrectclassicbookquotes @axshadows @ghostslillady @movievillainess721 @justagalwhowrites @charethcutestory02 @pixielouise-blog @gogh-with-the-flow @justafandomgvrl @katw474 @loveable-liar @arrozconpepitoria @minigirl87 @runa-falls @pedge-page @angel-of-the-moons @beefrobeefcal @pixielouise-blog @miraclesabound @oliveksmoked @bubble-pop-eclectic @corazondebeskar-reads @pedroshotwifey @umnitsa @koshkaj-blog @hiroikegawa @mangoslushcrush @withasideofmeg @sub-aro @wand-erer5 @pixielou5
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Spending all your time in front of a TV or computer to watch shows and movies is not shameful. If we're going to spend all day in bed anyway, why not be entertained?
I'm almost always spending that time recovering from the previous day, flares and overdoing it. For a lot of that time I can't spend it online writing or reading because of eyestrain and headaches. Same with books. I can't always knit while sitting because my fingers can feel like they're dissociating, and I don't know how else to explain it. My fingers will sometimes hate doing finger things and despise touching other fingers!
So all I can do in those moments is watch TV and I refuse to be shamed by people who have no idea what this is like. I'm gonna keep distracting my brain instead of wallowing in misery doing absolutely nothing.
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Second Conflict
Timeline 20151 - Protagonist : V Temarii
[ First | Previous | Next ]
V managed to pull Nancy out of the Maelstrom nest without much issue. If Johnny was delighted to see her again, V kept quiet. He felt still resentful at the way he had been treated before going to Kerry's mansion. A weird bitter knot was building in his stomach. He had been Johnny's only friend and confident for weeks now, suffering or enjoying the engram's company. Suddenly, old friends were showing up left and right, putting Johnny in a better mood than V ever could. It pissed him off, even more so when Johnny seemed completely clueless to the way he felt.
"Shame Henry blew it," the dead rockerboy kept rambling, "But man, this is preem. Samurai: back for one night, and one night only! Can't remember the last time I felt that excited. Eh, think I do, actually. 2007. One hell of a gig, and an even better afterparty, if you know what I mean."
"Johnny, c'mon."
"Man, you really are getting jealous," he teased, reappearing before his host, "You're lucky I find it cute. You're like a desperate little groupie. I missed this. Hey, V, wanna feel the real Samurai experience? I have the perfect idea on how to unwind until Nance-"
"I'm good, Johnny," V grumbled as he pushed him away, "Lil' groupie's done for the day."
V laid down in bed in silence after lighting a cigarette. It softened his mood a little, but Johnny didn't take kindly to being ignored.
"Fuck, what got your panties in a twist this time?" he mocked, "Gave me the green light on this idea, want to back off now? Or is this about Kerry? Mad I'm having fun with someone that isn't you, or disappointed I won't give him the Rogue treatment? Huh? Ignoring me, now? Fuck, V, we really back to that?"
He simply wouldn't shut up, and V snapped.
"You're a fucking asshole, know that?" he yelled, "Still only fucking care about yourself. Rogue lead you on, and that sucks, but why you gotta make it my fault?"
"V, what-"
"You acted like I wasn't ever there! I tried talking to you, but you just ignored me! Closest friend? My ass! Only had Kerry on your mind!"
"That has nothing to do with Rogue. Sreamsheets said-"
"What fucking screamsheets?"
"Right, you weren't there."
"Mean when you betrayed my trust?! So why did you wait to get into Rogue's panties first, if checking on your best friend was so important?! That's just another fucking excuse! You just wanted a distraction, and apparently, I wasn't enough."
His voice suddenly broke as he swallowed back treacherous tears. He tried to hide his next words, but their minds was one, and they echoed in the tensed silence of the room.
I'm nothing compared to them, am I?
You're gonna leave me behind now that they're back in your life.
"We both know that's not something I can do, V," Johnny said, and, feeling the wave of worry from his host, added, "And I wouldn't. Even if I could."
"Bullshit."
"V, it's just old habits. Went to Rogue when I fucked up with Alt, went to Kerry when I fucked up with Rogue. Not used to putting you into that equation just yet. Was in my own head - forgot you were here."
"But, I called you. Reach out for you."
"Gonna have to listen harder, I guess. And you need to speak louder," he added, "Still need some getting used to - our situation. Usually, I’d just fuck off. Find a quiet place. Cenzon in one hand, Black Lace in the other. Get skizzed out of my mind, and find some easy groupie to bring home.”
“Lucky for you: easy groupie's right here.”
“You? With your constant whining and ball-busting? You make me work hard to get to you, V.”
“And I should apologize for that?” he retorted, still feeling hurt.
“Nah. Thing is: I can’t do that anymore. Can’t wallow on my own. That, I’m still getting used to.”
“Do you miss it? That method of yours?”
“Why? Up to give me the reins once more?” he hoped.
“Nah, but you got the company already. I can provide the buzz. Interested?” he proposed, clinging to the idea he could cheer Johnny up despite his doubts. He needed to feel useful.
“See, V?" Johnny said, too distracted by his promise to worry about the knot in their stomach, "Thinking like a real rockerboy.”
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night at the museum sentence starters
❝ oh, no. you didn't get evicted again, did you? ❞
❝ if it wasn't for ____, i wouldn't say anything. i would stay out of it. ❞
❝ i'm trying to figure things out right now, okay? ❞
❝ i really feel like my moment's coming... and when it does, everything's just gonna come together.❞
❝ we'll figure it out, okay? ❞
❝ that wasn't a compliment. ❞
❝ i'm just kidding. ❞
❝ nice, firm handshake. i like that. tells a lot about a man. ❞
❝ it can get a little spooky around here at night... ❞
❝ i ought to punch you in the nose. ❞
❝ the dinosaur's alive! ❞
❝ do you know what's going on here? ❞
❝ ____? is that your name? ❞
❝ do you have an issue with me? ❞
❝ don’t! i know what you're thinking. don't do it. ❞
❝ this is not happening. ❞
❝ i can't feel my lip. ❞
❝ somebody's gotta pay. ❞
❝ stop whining and just take it like a man! ❞
❝ split his head like a watermelon! ❞
❝ don't talk down to me! ❞
❝ can i ask you something? ❞
❝ self-reliance is the key to a vigorous life. a man must look inward to find his own answers.❞
❝ this is impossible. ❞
❝ nothing's impossible. if it can be dreamed, it can be done. ❞
❝ well... actually, i gotta be honest. i don't think i'm coming back. ❞
❝ some men are born great. others have greatness thrust upon them. for you, this is that very moment. ❞
❝ put me down! i don't like to be manhandled! ❞
❝ i thought you liked surprises. like how you surprised me... ❞
❝ do you have any idea what i've been through tonight? ❞
❝ i just need a regular job that’s not life-threatening and pays my bills. ❞
❝ i'm glad you came around. ❞
❝ it's not funny. okay? ❞
❝ read some books. brush up on your history. ❞
❝ the more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future. ❞
❝ i... i just was laughing in agreement. ❞
❝ could i buy you a cup of coffee or something? ❞
❝ so, what's your story? ❞
❝ look, we're men. we fight, okay? that's what we do. it's kinda how we pass the time.❞
❝ don't be a kiss-ass, okay? ❞
❝ told you there was a storm comin’. ❞
❝ i knew you'd come back. ❞
❝ you look like a man on a mission. ❞
❝ i'm just... i mean, you know, she's... she's very beautiful. ❞
❝ what happened here? i thought we had a deal. ❞
❝ don't kick me! ❞
❝ i am not playing games here. ❞
❝ you have to deal with this creature with love and respect. ❞
❝ the thing is, not everyone is great. that's the problem. some of us are just ordinary. ❞
❝ stop wallowing in self-pity. ❞
❝ every great journey begins with a single footstep. ❞
❝ fool me once, shame on you. fool me twice, shame on me. …. fool me... shame on me. fool me twice… ❞
❝ i’m not making fun of you. ❞
❝ you shouldn't be here. ❞
❝ do you wanna dance? ❞
❝ i'm not even brave enough to tell that beautiful woman i love her. ❞
❝ you gotta finish the job this time. you can't quit. ❞
❝ what are you made of? ❞
❝ i am forever in your debt. ❞
❝ he says that he wants to rip you apart. ❞
❝ you’re next. ❞
❝ good. that's good. just breathe. ❞
❝ you just want what's best for your people, right? ❞
❝ you guys are brothers, for god’s sakes. you’ve gotta stop fighting. ❞
❝ we can get this done, but we gotta do it together. ❞
❝ save yourself! ❞
❝ i ain't quittin' you! ❞
❝ i know someone who could help. ❞
❝ you saved me. ❞
❝ you're worth saving, my dear. ❞
❝ great to see you in one piece. ❞
❝ you rock! i am a big fan. ❞
❝ what would you like to know? ❞
❝ it's gonna be tough to talk my way out of this one. ❞
❝ any explanation at all? ❞
❝ hey, it's getting late. you ready to go home? ❞
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ྀི ୨ embarrassment ୧ ྀི
...is a social construct designed to make us feel bad by those who cant handle their own mistakes & or shortcomings.
seriously. like. it baffles me how people are still living in the mindset where they let embarrassment become anything more for them than a concept.
୨୧ embarrassment
- a feeling of self-consciousness, shame, or awkwardness.
embarrassment is perfectly normal. it happens to everyone because we all make mistakes. but some people let embarrassment and the fear of embarrassment consume them and the choices they make far too much, far too often.
♡ which leads me onto my first point; it is completely normal. everybody makes mistakes. this is our first time in this life and we are all learning & growing with our every choice, every action, every decision <3 remember that the next time youre panicking and freaking out because you made a mistake.
♡ its never that deep. i like to try be gentle w this stuff but lemme tell u straight no one actually cares . im serious,, like babes no one gives a shit honestly 😭😭 and your mentality should be the same. people remember this stuff n laugh for 5 mins and then theyre back to their life. and if they hang on to it for longer then theyre the one who should be embarrassed.. get a life pls??
♡ similar to what i said a moment ago , its. never. that. deep. laugh it off !!!!! giggle !!!!!! laugh about it !!!!!!!! nobody cares !!!!!! this shows that it doesnt faze you and this shows how confident you are within yourself that you dont let silly little mistakes bother you because they do not matter.
♡ when it comes to your interests, please never be embarrassed about these. this is something ive struggled with since i was little but never never never be embarassed of the things that bring you joy. if they arent hurting anyone and are perfectly okay you should never be embarrassed ab that. it makes you happy. why should you be ashamed of that for someone else???🩷
♡ has someone ever said something to you? made u doubt urself? then you get embarrassed ab it???? dont. do not even go there. i ws so insecure before (i know😭😭) and couldnt hold a single opinion for myself but when you know who tf you are you wont be doubting yourself for anyone ml.
♡ so... you wanna pursue your dreams but ur too embarrassed. ur too embarrassed and worried "what if this doesnt work" "what if it doesnt happen" n whatever other dumb shit ur worried abt and scared to outgrow your surroundings and evolve. wow. you know how silly that sounds? so.. like.. let me get this straight... youre telling me... that youre not doing what you love... for the sake of someone else or some silly little doubts????wow. you get one life n youre doing that. GET IT TOGETHER BABES. GET REAL. WHY WOULD U SABOTAGE URSELF LIKE THAT????? YOURE WORTH SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT LIKE 😭😭🩷🩷🩷🩷
♡ understand that peoples perceptions of you are often reflections of themselves just like your perceptions of others are often reflections of yourself. they think its embarrassing because they know for a fact deep down that theyd be too embarrassed and self conscious to do it themselves.
♡ and then watch the way they'll all come crawling back apologising and grovelling the moment you're rich and successful and got everything you ever wanted.. all because you had the confidence to trust in yourself and pursue what you wanted without listening to their self doubts. <3
♡ reverse psychology. "why r u doing that" "thats so cringey" why r u so wrapped up in my business? thats so cringey
♡ overall, confidence, strong self concept & trusting in your ability to bounce back from anything are the three main things that will never let you wallow in this silly little emotion again. embarrassment is like a pitiful, more insignificant, ridiculous version of fear. if ur gonna be scared then b scared of something worth ur time babe ur more than that <33
#girlblogging#wonyoungism#it girl#pink pilates princess#self care#self improvement#thewizardliz#mindset#song jia#that girl#self concept#confidence#glow up era#dream girl#loassumption#loa tumblr#loa blog
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Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Part 9
Masterlist
"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."
He was adamant in his choices...
...But then things changed.
Not my GIF
"You so would have been impressed by my ballet skills." Delia laughs as she and Andy walk through the hotel towards where the rooms were; they were rather lucky in the case that everyone had a room in the same area of the hotel.
"Still on about the ballet?" Andy shakes his head trying to conceal his grin. "I'll ask you about that when you're sober, I guarantee you won't want to show off your moves then."
"Fuck! I left my key in Shevy's bag!" Delia curses turning back to face Andy after having realised her key was not in her jacket pocket.
"Fuck sake Delia! How could you be so stupid?" Andy groans before instantly catching his chill. "It's fine, there's a sofa in my room, I'll just take that. Come on."
"Don't flatter yourself Andy, you wouldn't be the first guy I've shared a bed with and it not be romantic." Delia scoffs slightly as she follows Andy to his room.
"You're the one who said it was a shame I'm attractive cause I'm massive dickhead." Andy shakes his head again whilst feeling that same slight smile pull at his lips; he'd be lying if he said these couple of weeks hadn't changed how he feels about people, Delia standing her ground against him definitely shook him a little. It's not that he wanted people to be scared of him or not bother with him but no one in the band had really stood up against him, just kind of got on with it and that allowed Andy the chance to wallow in his anxieties and sadness in the hopes that they would disappear eventually
"And it wasn't a lie." Delia grins before scrunching her face up as she realises her outfit. "Do you have a shirt I can borrow? If I sleep in this dress a tit will most likely fall out and nobody wants to see that."
"Oh, erm, yeah. Yeah I do, I'll grab you one." Andy replies in shock; Andy knew he was socially awkward but when he was around Delia it was a whole other level, probably because of how annoying he always found her but he had agreed to be civil so civil is what he will be. "Here."
"Thanks... Erm, would you mind turning around please?" Delia's grin turns awkward, Andy wasn't the only one who now felt the sudden tension in the room.
"Oh, yeah, yeah sure." Andy stutters slightly before turning around allowing Delia to change; honestly he didn't understand why she couldn't change in the bathroom, same time it was probably a good thing in case she fell and hurt herself or something.
"Okay I'm good." Delia informs Andy making him turn around to see her placing her now folded dress on the back of the little chair in the room before she throws herself backwards onto the double bed. "Is it weird that I love hotel beds? I feel like they're always more comfortable, like sleeping on a cloud or something."
"I can't say I've ever thought about it." Andy replies trying not to stare at the girl in his shirt. Sure he found Delia to be very pretty but she was also very annoying, he had to remember that part. plus with this tour things were already awkward. "You sure you don't want me on the sofa?"
"Don't make a mole hill mountain." Delia grumbles before climbing under the duvet.
"The saying is 'don't make a mountain out of a mole hill', a mole hill mountain makes no sense." Andy finally lets the laugh he'd been hiding for so long slip which also makes Delia burst out laughing.
"Oh yeah! That's what I meant!" Delia looked as if she was close to tears at this point.
"Right, well I'm gonna change. I'm gonna go to the bathroom to do so, just so, you know, whatever." Andy stutters again; what was wrong with him when it change to this annoying member of the team?
"Sure, you do you boo." Delia calms before pulling the duvet over herself more.
Once Andy walks out of the bathroom after changing out of his jeans to a pair of more suitable trousers to sleep in, he sees Delia sound asleep. which causes that same small smile to form on his face- this was 100% the effect of the alcohol he had been drinking earlier that night, there's no way he would find someone so insufferable attractive.
Shaking away his thoughts Andy awkwardly climbs into the bed next to Delia trying to ensure there was room in between the two of them- this did not need to be anymore awkward then it already was.
"Delia? What are you doing?" Andy asks the girl, who was not completely asleep, after she decided that she was actually going to ruin the whole leave space plan Andy had subconsciously by cuddling into Andy's side.
"I'm cold. You're warm. So I snuggled." Delia mutters half asleep.
"Oh." Was all that Andy was able to get out before he heard soft snores coming from Delia.
There was absolutely nothing that should be pulling Andy to Delia right now. Sure she was very pretty but the two of them clashed like fire and ice, nothing would work and would end in disaster, Andy knew this. So why was he suddenly drawn to this fiery girl sleeping next to him? Andy made himself a promise that after his divorce with Juliet he wouldn't allow himself to get close to anyone like that again because it was easier. That was a promise that was suddenly becoming hard to stick to, but regardless, he was determined to stick to it.
After all, for his own sanity he had to....
...Right?
#andy biersack#andy black#andy bvb#Lonny Eagleton#lonny bvb#jinxx bvb#Jake Pitts#jake bvb#black veil brides#bvb#cc bvb#black veil brides fanfic#bvb fanfic
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I’m the anon who requested the Robin x Male reader, gender neutral works!! I would love to see it with yours writing style <3
Alrighty then. I'm on it! Thanks for requesting! Aged up to 16! Love ya!
"Hey, Y/N!" Robin yelled. "Oh what's up Robin?" I said. "Can you help me study for the English test on Friday?" he asked me, smiling so cutely. "I would love to! Come over in 30 minutes?" "Ok! See you there!" he said, running off to go walk home with Finney.
He was so cute! I have had the biggest crush on him since I was 11 years old. Now that we're 16, my crush on Robin has grown insanely. But nobody knew how much love I truly felt for him. The only 'person' I've told is my diary. I've written everything I feel about Robin over the past five years in that diary. I started the walk home to get ready to study with Robin.
"He's gotten so much hotter as we've gotten older. Its insane how in love him I am. But I'm sure he doesn't feel the same. Gotta go! Love, Y/N" I wrote in my diary. I heard the doorbell ring downstairs and I shoved my diary under my pillow. I ran downstairs and opened the door to see Robin. "Hey! Come on in!" I said, beckoning him inside. "Hey! Thanks again for doing this. You didn't have to." He said. "I know. But I want to." I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom. "Are you hungry or thirsty? Do you want some food or a soda?" I asked. "Oh, a soda would be great, thanks." He said. I walked downstairs to grab some food and sodas.
Robin's POV
As I flopped down on Y/N's bed, I felt something hard under the pillow. I pulled out a book saying Y/N'S Diary. Do not touch. I know I shouldn't read it but I was curious! "He's gotten so much hotter as we've gotten older. Its insane how in love him I am. But I'm sure he doesn't feel the same. Gotta go! Love, Y/N" That was from just today! They don't think I have a crush on them? I've had a crush on them since I was 10! I just thought they didn't feel the same. But I guess they do. Perfect.
Y/N's POV
I walked into my room to see Robin. On my bed. With my diary. Just thinking about what he was reading made my face burn with shame. Oh god now he knows how I feel. Shit. Shit. Shit. I jumped on the bed, ripping my diary out of his hands and throwing it across the room. "So, Y/N." Oh god! Oh god! I'm gonna die from embarrassment. I can't do this. I can't. He was burning holes into me with his eyes. I tried to shove him off my bed to get my pillow so I could bury myself in pillows and wallow in self pity but when I tried to do that, he flipped me on top of him to where I was straddling him.
Aw shit. My face was on fire and he was smirking with amusement. "So you have a crush on me aye?" I looked towards the door. It's not to late to run. But he must've seen the glance so he flipped me to where he was pinning me underneath him. I was extremely intimidated and embarrassed. "Five years of being in love with me and you never told me." "I-" He cut me off. "Y'know, I've been in love with you for six years." Wait. Just a minute. What in the Reese's peanut butter fucks? "So you're telling me." "We could've been dating this whole time?" We said in unison. I started laughing and so did he.
"Ok. Here is something I've been wanting to say for 6 years now. Y/N Y/L/N, would you like to be my girlfriend/boyfriend/preferred?" I blushed and said "I would love that." He smiled at me and I smiled back.
He gave me a light feathery kiss on my lips and said,
"I love you, Y/N Y/L/N."
Hope you love it! Love y'all! :) -Kaylin
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