#i was scared to send these in because last summer was really bad for me BUT
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softerhaze but make it irl 💌
#hi i've missed you guys :')#i've been working on my new years resolution of developing film that i've just tossed into my cabinet#these were all taken last summer! there's a mix of kodak gold and superia 400#i was scared to send these in because last summer was really bad for me BUT#i'm always happy to be out with my camera so none of that poisoned my rolls :) <3
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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Hey hun!! Could u write about something about Jack getting injured pretty bad with him being his clumsy self and catching his edge or something. Reader feels obligated to pamper him every second of everyday and is just so gentle with him it gets to the point where Jack is like “babe just because I hurt my leg doesn’t mean we can’t make out or do it” cause reader is like so scared of hurting him but Jack is just super needy
Smooth - Jack Hughes
Summer Series Open Now
This was a request, keep sending them I love them (if I get more than five new request, I drop a new fic tomorrow)
I changed a few little things but I love how this turned out
Much longer than expected, whoops
w.c 1,516 (credit to gif maker) (slight suggestive content)
You’re honestly surprised Jack has lived to see the grand age of 22. He may think he’s agile, smooth even, but you know better. In fact, you’d dare even to say that your boyfriend is one of the clumsiest people you know. It’s honestly a miracle he hasn’t broken anything, especially since this summer; he’s really been pushing his limits.
“Babe, Babe! Look.”
You turn your head up from the book you are currently devouring to stare at your boyfriend. You watch as he does a cute little flip on the wave and throws you a couple of peace signs. You smile, give him a thumbs up, and not a second later, he dives off the board and into the lake.
He quickly gets into the boat, grabs a towel, and shakes out his hair. As soon as he’s only a little wet, he walks toward you, sitting right next to you and placing your legs on top of his.
“That must be a damn good book. Usually, you can’t take your eyes off me.”
You roll your eyes at him, gently placing the book down. “Well, if you must know, it is very interesting. Lots of murder, lots of mayhem.”
As soon as the sentence leaves your lips, he snatches the book from your lap, reading the back insert. After a couple of seconds, he hums.
“Looks kinda good.”
You smile and snatch it back. “I’ll add it to your list.”
Jack nods, smiling again at you, and leans over to kiss your forehead. When he pulls back, he nods toward Luke, who is currently surfing at the back of the boat.
“I think I’m gonna go again; try that thing Luke saw on TikTok.”
Once he says that, you narrow your eyes at him.
“The last time you tried something like that, both of you almost drowned.”
This time Jack rolls his eyes, shaking his head wildly.
“Please (Y/N), your lack of faith is insulting. We’re experts.”
You shrug your shoulders at your boyfriend; you honestly don’t care; you know that sometimes their little tricks can become problems.
Mere minutes later, the two of them are hooked up and gliding effortlessly on the water. Quinn is driving the boat, and you’re watching, realizing this may be something you want to see. You’re also sitting beside Trevor, who’s filming the entire thing.
It’s starting great; they do a few little tricks while you and Trev cheer them on. You also catch when Jack does another turn a throws a wink your way, dragging his hand through his hair which he knows you love.
You’re honestly pretty impressed at the pair, not that you’d ever let them know that, but they look good. Everything seems to be going great until it’s not.
You’re all still cheering them on when they reach their final move. One second they’re both good, then in a blink, they both go down, but not before you hear a slight yelp from your boyfriend as he hits the water.
As soon as they fall, Trevor’s eyes dart to you, both of you sharing the “oh fuck” look. Quinn notices this, too, and weaves the boat around quickly.
When you finally get to the pair, they both look a little nervous. Trevor moves first, quickly moving to put down the ladder. Seconds later, he’s helping pull Jack up, Luke also helping to push him into the boat. You can’t help but wince yourself as you watch your boyfriend's nose scrunch up in pain.
As soon as he gets into the boat, he swings his leg up, and everyone can see the blood dripping down and a giant purple bruise forming.
Without saying a word, you grab the first aid kit from the front of the boat and swing into action. You sit across from your boyfriend, wordlessly opening a few supplies. You’re not mad, of course; you’re just worried. Injuries aren’t ideal for hockey players, even if they're small.
“Oh, son of a bitch,” Jack hisses as you wipe some alcohol pads over the rather large cut.
You glance up at him to see some tears welling up in his eyes, and as soon as you meet his eyes, he rips them away. You know he’s mad at himself and, obviously, in quite a bit of pain.
“Is he gonna make it?” Luke asks, watching behind you.
“Don’t know, might have to cut it off.”
You look toward Jack as you make the joke, trying to ease the slight tension, but he doesn’t seem very impressed.
Ten minutes later, you’re docked, and Trevor and Luke are tasked with getting Jack to the house. You stay behind, helping Quinn get the boat settled and doing the glamorous job of wiping your boyfriend's blood off the boat floor.
“He’s lucky that wasn’t worse.” Quinn breaks the silence. “I should’ve backed you up more.”
You shake your head, throwing away the bloody paper towels. “They were gonna do it anyway. He’ll be fine.
You both finish up and go to the house, seeing Luke and Trevor in the kitchen, but no sign of Jack.
“He’s upstairs,” Luke says, gesturing toward the stairs.
You walk by and ruffle his hair slightly, to which he wacks your hand gently away, throwing you an uneasy smile.
You head up the stairs to the bedroom, and when you enter, you see your boyfriend lying on the bed, his foot propped up with some ice on it. As soon as you enter, his eyes follow your figure as you move toward the dresser, grabbing some clothes to change into.
Before you go to the bathroom, you stop.
“Do you wanna shower all the lake and sunscreen off you?”
Jack whips his head toward you, and after a bit of silence, he nods. You move to help him, getting him into the bathroom and helping him peel off his shorts.
Soon you’re both in the shower, and you’re making sure he keeps his weight on the good leg. In the bathroom's light, the bruise and the cut look terrible, and your heart breaks everything he winces.
“I’m sorry.” He blurts out after minutes of silence.
You give him a confused look. “Why? It’s not like you planned on getting hurt, J.”
You quickly swipe some hair from his face, forcing him to look at you.
“I know. I just should’ve listened. And also, I was being a dick, which you don’t deserve, but I know if I talked to you, I’d start crying.”
His admission makes you even sadder, and you quickly pull your boyfriend down to meet you. Placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“It’s okay, J.”
You finish the shower, and for the rest of the night, you dote on your boyfriend. You make sure he’s comfy, get you both snacks and turn on his favorite movie. Minutes tick by, and you’re comfortably tucked into his side when you notice he isn’t watching the movie.
“You okay? Tired?”
He shakes his head, and m he pulls you into him, connecting your lips. You smile into the kiss and then pull back away from him. This causes him to pout, and he leans back in, pulling you into him, but you resist.
"Hey now, let's not add more injuries to the list, shall we?" You give him a sweet smile and another quick peck, "How about you settle for snuggling? We don’t need any more dangerous stunts, and we can save that for when you're back to your agile, smooth self.”
Your teasing causes Jack to pout further and rolls his eyes, ducking down the meet your lips again. You slightly let him win, letting him deepen the kiss a bit before you pull back once again. As soon as you do, he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I appreciate the concern, but I still have two legs, babe.”
He raises his eyebrow at his suggestive comment, and you roll your eyes back as far as they can go.
“Gross.”
He snickers, pulling you back in and moving his lips down your neck, stopping at the place you go crazy for. You can’t help but squirm as his lips send tingles down your spine.
“Jack, you're impossible," you laugh, trying to maintain some composure while he continues his teasing assault.
He lifts his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, if I can't be agile on the water, at least I can be smooth here," he winks, earning himself another eye roll from you.
“Smooth, huh?" you quip, a smirk forming on your lips. "I'll believe that when you can walk without limping."
He smiles another big smile, and his eyes grow soft.
“Please, I’m 100% sure you will heal me, and I promise I’ll be careful.”
You stare deep into his eyes, and you feel yourself breaking.
“Fine, but I’ll do most of the work.”
Jack's eyes darken as the words leave your lips, and at record speed, he pulls at your top.
“If that’s the case, I think I want to stay injured forever.”
#hockey#hockey boys#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#imagine#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#hockey fic#nhl hockey#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagine#quinn hughes#luke hughes#trevor zegras#summerlakehouseseries
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.
despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. n/a
part three: the letters, the saloon and the second storm ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist
vi. the letters
september 2nd 2008 (age 9)
dear jungkook,
my mom said i should write you letters. i don’t really know what to say here. you better be visiting marshmallow and be nice to her while i’m gone. i miss her a lot. i guess i miss having you around since i don’t have anyone to play guitar hero with…
p.s. happy late birthday maybe i can visit and come to your party next year if my mom lets me
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
january 19th 2009 (age 10)
dear y/n,
i learned how to skate for the first time. it’s too bad the ice will be gone when you’re back and we won’t get to skate together. i can’t believe we’ll be in middle school soon. are you scared? hoseok and namjoon say it’s not a big deal. also, i saw your grandpa yesterday and he showed me how to use a tapper on a maple tree. so cool!
p.s. you should ask your mom if you can visit earlier this year
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
april 23rd 2009 (age 10)
HEY JUNGKOOK,
look inside the box, i sent you a book with this letter. i told you in my last letter that i would send you one. it’s astronomy for dummies (because you’re a dummy). you better read it before i come back to grandpa’s, okay?? you have a month and a half loser.
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
september 30th 2009 (age 10)
hi y/n,
jimin sprained his ankle during gym class. your grandpa told me to write that because it probably just made your day. i feel a little bit bad for him, the nurse at our school is really mean. also i know it’s a month away but i’m so excited for halloween. my dad got me this really cool goku costume. what are you gonna dress up as?
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
february 4th 2010 (age 11)
jungkook,
i’m so tired of my parents fighting all the time. all they do is yell. i can’t wait to be back in amber valley so i don’t have to hear them all the time. i wish i had your parents, they’re so nice. also i hate my class. it’s so hard to be friends with the girls that sit next to me, they always leave me out of things. don’t you miss elementary school?
from y/n
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
may 17th 2010 (age 11)
dear y/n,
guess what. my dad got me a skateboard!! it’s so cool. if you’re nice to me i’ll let you borrow it. we should see who can do the coolest trick. it’ll be me of course i’m better than you at everything LOL. you better hurry and come back!
from jungkook
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
november 25th 2010 (age 11)
hi jungkook,
i can’t believe i’ll only be living with my dad soon. do you think my mom doesn’t want me? honestly, i’d rather just live with grandpa all the time. then i could see marshmallow everyday all year! or maybe you can convince your mom to take me in. actually, i take that back, i could never live with you. you’re so messy.
p.s. i got my own skateboard!! it’s cold now but i’m gonna practice and bring it with me next summer
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ***
february 18th 2011 (age 12)
y/n,
i know you’re super sad and stuff. i’m sorry about your parents. we’re gonna have the best summer ever though and maybe you won’t think so much about it. look at the bucket list i made!
eat breakfast for dinner
watch the captain america movie
ride the big kids ride at the midsummer fair (i’m tall enough now so you better be too)
stay up all night
make ice cream
if you have any ideas, add on! hope you’re doing okay :(
from jungkook
vii. the saloon
when jungkook mentioned the saloon to you, you thought it was a joke poking at the countryside life.
“oh, it’s actually called a saloon. like, unironically. that’s what the text said,” you rambled into your phone, edged between your ear and shoulder, as you stood in your kitchen in front of your laptop.
on the screen, you were assembling an excel sheet of sorts to assist your navigation through the business side of the farm. thankfully, this was exactly the field you had long worked and studied in and knowing this before taking on your new role made the transition far easier. there was hardly any product to be profiting from, as you had just arrived, and you were preparing the document before the time came to deal with vendors and other local businesses.
“oh, honey, that place has actually been called ‘the saloon’ ever since i was a little girl,” your mom’s voice chimed in from the other end.
since the turn of your early twenties, your phone calls to your parents were far and few between and you could hear the surprise in her tone when she initially picked up. but, your grandpa’s letter seemed to be growing truer everyday, as your surroundings made drew you to reconnect with what you thought was to be lost.
eyebrows furrowed, you continued to scroll through your work. “mom, do you think he meant it as a date? i can’t do a date, i literally just got here!”
“calm down. it’s that amber valley hospitality. but,” your mom paused, “you did have crushes on each other growing up.”
“mom, no way - “
she merely laughed. “it was so obvious! you mailed a valentine’s day card to jungkook every year. one time, he punched little jimin because he called you ‘jungkook’s ugly girlfriend.’”
“and then he screamed that i wasn’t ugly. huh, i do remember that,” you began to think.
spending time reminiscing with your mom momentarily distracted you from the anxiety you felt, waiting for the evening to come. jungkook did end up texting you, asking if you were coming down to the saloon for the birthday surprise. you looked away and closed your eyes when you pressed ‘send’ on the confirmation that you would drop by.
the idea made you nervous only because it had been so long since you went out and met new people. there was no such thing as free time in your old life and you really only maintained surface-level friendships with your coworkers in your last year of the job. however, knowing amber valley and the tight-knit community, it was only a matter of time before you got acquainted with everyone, whether you liked it or not.
by the time it was six, you’d forced yourself to get changed and inspected your outfit several times before leaving. the last thing you wanted to do was stand out too much. so, you put on your favourite denim jeans and a plain long sleeve top, putting away your go-to strappy stilettos for the night.
making your way into town was quick and soon enough, you found the pub situated in between the flower shop and the hardware store. it definitely looked like it’d been around since your mom was a little girl, the exterior siding showing age with chips here and there.
“hey y/n.”
you jumped, having not paid attention to your surroundings. turning around, it was taehyung holding a box adorned in magenta polka dot wrapping. he wore a similar outfit to the one from the day before, except a different cowboy hat. you wondered if there was a store in town that specialized in selling just these hats.
“hi taehyung. is this for jin?” you offered a smile, gesturing to the box.
a pleased grin formed on taehyung’s face. “yup. i’m pretty sure i got him the best gift out of everyone, but don’t tell anyone.”
he walked ahead of you and opened the door, pausing. you realized he was opening it for you and you quickly thanked him, going right in. small town hospitality.
it was saturday evening, but to your surprise, there were hardly any patrons in the bar. taehyung then pointed to a sign by the door, which you missed completely. it read: ‘private event, invite only.’
“oh, wow, am i v.i.p?” you joked, following him to the back of the room, where a stack of presents were grouped on one table.
“of course! you’re jungkook’s friend, after all,” he exclaimed, setting his box down with the others. “you guys go way back, huh? how long has it been since you guys since saw each other?”
you counted in your head. “i think twelve or thirteen years. a while.”
“what, no facebook back in the day?” he teased.
“no, he was never nearly fond of that. after i stopped coming for the summers, we lost contact completely.” you couldn’t recall any attempts for continued communication afterwards, other than your grandpa offering updates here and there about him. “we used to write, but i don’t know what happened. . .”
for a while, you wondered why jungkook never wrote you again after you stopped coming to the valley. admittedly, looking back, it hurt your preteen self that he never tried. but, eventually, you moved on and left jungkook in your childhood.
taehyung nodded slowly. “so. . .you didn’t know about what happened?”
you already knew what he was talking about and squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “no. i felt really bad about it.”
“it’s okay. since i moved to town, i’ve really admired jungkook. if there’s any sort of pain, he hides it really well for the sake of others,” he said, leaning on the wall.
that sounded like the jungkook you remembered. he was always the type to put others before himself, no matter how small the issue. then, you began thinking about jiwon.
“taehyung, can i ask you something?” you suddenly said. “jiwon. she’s only nine. and jungkook doesn’t have any other family. . .”
the smile at the corner of taehyung’s lips was sad. “yeah. jungkook is her primary guardian and has been since he was nineteen.”
the answer seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and you had to take a second to take it all in. there were so many questions that formed, floating around your head and you couldn't seem to find the words to articulate any of them. before you could even try, you jumped again at the sudden appearance of two new individuals, one of them being jungkook himself and forced you to put away your thoughts.
“we’re behind schedule, did yoongi put the cake in the fridge?” this new person was turned to taehyung, carrying a case of beer. “we need - oh, hi! y/n! i totally remember you, i heard you were back!”
you’d never seen someone with such energy, exhibiting positivity like a ray of sunshine. it seemed like he was genuinely delighted to see you. taking a closer look at his features, you recognized him to be jung hoseok - jungkook’s next door neighbour. he put down the case in his hands and immediately pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.
“hoseok, hi!” you winced, trying your best to hug him back, but it certainly made you burst into a giggle.
he was the first person to remember you on the spot, which took you aback. a few years older than you, you weren’t as close with him as you were with jungkook growing up, but he was always around. you remember him as the big brother who showed you and jungkook the cool ‘older kid’ shows and games that your parents would have never let you watch at that young age.
“how have you been? you look so grown up! you’re really staying here for good?” the questions were rapid-fire, one after another.
beside him, jungkook was smiling, but tapped hoseok to bring him back into the main conversation. “hyung. hyung! we’re behind schedule, remember?” he groaned, but grinned wider when you met his eyes. “nice to see you, though, bunny. really glad you came.”
“oh, right.” hoseok quickly let go and cleared his throat, beginning to point to each of you with authority. “you, taehyung. go help jimin with the slideshow. namjoon has the pinata.”
pinata? how old was this jin person, was he one of jiwon’s friends?
“you, jungkook. jin said he’s five minutes away, we need you to distract him for a bit longer.”
“can i help?” you piped in, feeling a bit out of place. “i mean, i’m here as a last minute guest, i’m happy to help in any way.”
hoseok clapped his hands together in glee. “thank you, y/n! go help jungkook distract jin, you being there will give him a reason to yap on. let’s go team!” he raised his fist in encouragement and in the blink of an eye, he already dashed off.
at this, jungkook seemed unfazed and frankly, so were you. you remember hoseok’s personality to be like this - extremely vigorous and could never sit in one place. on the other hand, taehyung looked perplexed as much as he appeared amused. he only shrugged, picking up the case of beer that hoseok clearly forgot.
“let’s go team, i guess. i’ll see you guys in a bit!” taehyung chuckled, walking off.
you were expecting to be asked to move around chairs or help bring out food. this wasn’t quite in your cards. you turned to jungkook in confusion, who chuckled at your expression.
“come follow me.”
he led the two of you back out the saloon, hands in his jean pockets. the early summer air was stunningly humid and coming outside was like hitting a muggy and sticky wall. but, there was one thing that couldn’t be replaced.
you couldn’t help but stare up at the sky, a fixed gaze. “you can really see the stars when you’re in the valley.”
the stars, dotted across the night, twinkled and smiled down at you. it was a view that others only romanticized and dreamt of in carefully crafted paintings and poems made to move the soul. and now, this dream was your new home.
jungkook mimicked the way you tilted your head up, lost with his own gaze. “i’ve lived here all my life and i never get tired of it.”
“i can’t believe i forgot about this. . .” you trailed off.
he pointed out to the sky. “that one is ursa major and you can see - “
“ - the big dipper,” the two of you said in unison, which led to a shared laughter.
astronomy was one of your biggest interests growing up, having stacks of books and a tapestry of the night sky in your childhood bedroom. your bedroom in the farmhouse also had a shelf full of astronomy books, which your grandpa still kept until his passing. having ignored the task of organizing and arranging your new bedroom, which was the same room you occupied over your summers in amber valley, you made a note to go through this shelf when you arrived home.
jungkook said, “you’re the one that taught me about that,” he turned back to you. “you actually used to randomly quiz me on constellations, it was really stressful.”
you could see your younger self sitting on your grandpa’s porch steps with jungkook, who lazied on the hammock across from you. you would compile actual multiple-choice questions and threw pebbles at him whenever he got an answer wrong. eventually, your grandpa scolded you for that, so you changed your weapon of choice to toy balls.
“i guess my lessons paid off, though,” you bantered.
following this, you heard a person shout jungkook’s name. you looked over and saw a man walking in your direction. he was tall and handsome and his smile was inviting. a little too handsome, he reminded you of models you’d seen in high fashion ads. his clothes contributed to the image, a patterned short sleeve button down and t-shirt that gave off neat and put-together. he wore jeans like what seemed to be 90 percent of the town, but you noticed the luxury brand belt.
“oh, seokjin!” to this, jungkook nudged you, as if signalling for you to be ready for something.
this was jin? the birthday boy with a pinata? he had to be around hoseok’s age.
“hey! hoseok told me to meet him here, have you see him?” seokjin began looking around. “he is working tonight, right?”
“uh, did he?” jungkook’s tone was not convincing and you couldn’t believe the hoseok made such a horrible liar be the distraction. “i think he is, want me to call him?”
“um, yeah. he said he was returning something he borrowed from me.” seokjin looked at him strangely. “why don’t i just go inside and check? why are you just waiting out here?”
“this is y/n!” jungkook suddenly blurted out, seemingly having no way around the conversation. his smile was painful and avoided making eye contact.
your eyes went wide and seokjin turned to you, having not realized there was another person in his presence. “oh, i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you there.”
“yeah, hi, that’s me. y/n.” this time, it was jungkook looking at you like you were the least convincing person in the world. you cleared your throat and offered a handshake to seokjin.
seokjin didn’t seem to notice your awkwardness and took your hand. “it’s really nice to meet you. jungkook actually told me a lot about you!” it was subtle, but you could hear jungkook groan.
you raised your eyebrows at jungkook. “oh, did he?”
“you guys grew up together, right? and you’re taking over the old farm?”
although you could tell right off the bat that seokjin wasn’t from amber valley, his deamanour was just as welcoming and friendly. he asked you a few questions about where you’re from and how settling in was.
“i’m sure you’ll be a natural. it sounds like you already have a lot of experience!” seokjin exclaimed and his positivity gave you genuine reassurance. “we’re all friends around here, so don’t be shy to reach out if you need anything.”
“thank you,” you replied.
jungkook tried to regain his composure. “seokjin runs the bakery down the street.”
“yeah! my wife and i used to buy eggs from your grandpa all the time, hopefully we can keep doing that,” seokjin winked at you.
then, the front door of the saloon cracked open just enough for hoseok to poke his head outside. there was no sign of activity from the inside, with the lights now off and all voices coming to a complete silence.
seokjin tilted his head slightly when looking at hoseok. “there you are. are you. . closed? the bar is closed on a saturday night?” he asked.
“yeah, uh, plumbing issues,” hoseok’s eyes darted over to you and jungkook. “y/n, jungkook! what brings you here around this time of day? you should all come in!”
despite the growing skepticsm etched on his face, seokjin glanced over to you two and shrugged. he followed his friend’s gesture to come inside.
you mumbled to jungkook, “you and your friends are all terrible liars.” to this, jungkook stifled a laugh and playfully jabbed his elbow into your arm.
hoseok opened the door wider and seokjin went in first, while you and jungkook trailed after. you were surprised at how well they made the interior appear deserted, with not a single soul in sight. you did noticed that they even stacked the chairs on the tables, as if the establishment was really closed.
“by the way, hoseok is the manager of the saloon,” jungkook leaned into your ear and whispered.
the floorboards creaked with every step, only adding onto the heavy silence in the atmosphere. seokjin looked around, eyebrows furrowed. he cleared his throat, hoping to cut the awkward tension.
seokjin started, “so, y/n, what happened with you and ju - “
“surprise!”
all of the lights flickered on and filled the room. upbeat music turned on suddenly, causing seokjin to jump and yelp. two dozen or so people popped out from random places - underneath the booths, from behind the walls, and from behind the bar. balloons and streamers began spilling out from out of nowhere.
“happy birthday seokjin!” everyone yelled in unison.
you awkwardly tried to join in once you caught onto what everyone was saying. despite that, the high energy ended up engulfing you and you couldn’t help but smile. some of the boys started throwing streamers at seokjin, while namjoon appeared from under the bar with a lit chocolate cake and began approaching the birthday boy in question.
“thanks, y/n!” hoseok nudged you, as everyone began singing to seokjin. “it’s exciting that you’re around again!”
as the song concluded and seokjin enthusastically blew out his candles, you cheered along with everyone else. over the cheering, jungkook found his way to you again. he raised his hand, offering a high-five, which you immediately accepted.
something about the atmosphere unlocked something inside you. within days, you were welcomed into the community and for the first time in a long time, saw people that could become your actual friends. maybe this was what your grandpa was talking about.
“yeah,” jungkook added, “it is exciting that you’re around again.”
“real connections. . .” you muttered to yourself, remembering the contents of your grandpa’s letter.
the yelling got louder, as the partygoers chanted for seokjin to make a speech. “huh, what did you say?” jungkook shouted over the chanting.
“nothing!”
you weren’t prepared for the next part of grandpa’s wish for you. it was a surprise to you that you were able to ease into the town and become comfortable connecting with the people around you. at the end of the day, though, you had a farm to run and you were about to face the worst of it.
viii. the second storm
your grandpa’s last wishes for you were to reconnect with people and nature. nature. you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.
“oh my god! why does mother nature hate me?!”
the best thing about living in a big farmhouse by yourself was the fact that you could make as much noise as you wanted. you often found yourself yelling at the top of your lungs, shrieking like a bird when you came across anything frustrating. considering you were learning an entirely new job on your own, it happened quite often.
you screamed into the void after your first phone call with a vendor, who kept on asking you if you knew what you were doing. you swore you almost broke your vocal cords when you sunk into the mud the first time you checked out the fields after a rainy night. at least you walked away several metres from the coop before you screeched in agony after the chickens gave you a hard morning on time.
when a soft knock on your front door interrupted your emotional breakdown, your heart stopped.
“fuck!” you whispered to yourself.
who would be visiting you? what if it was someone important, like mayor kim? maybe they didn’t hear - no, they definitely heard.
you tentatively approached the door and took a deep breathe before swinging it open.
“i didn’t know you started tending to hyenas on the farm.”
it was jungkook with a lazy, shit-eating grin. it was early in the morning, about 8am, and he wore workout clothes. baggy grey sweatpants and a white nike tank-top, you felt like you were straining to keep your eyes on his face and not anywhere else.
“oh, shut it. good morning to you, too,” you shot back. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”
“sorry, i would’ve texted, but i was already passing by on my run,” jungkook said.
it’d been about a week since you last saw him, though he was nice enough to check in on you every once in a while to see if you were doing okay with the farm. you hardly left home, used to the same routine of working and going right to bed everyday from your old life and the habit was hard to break.
he continued, “anyway, i saw your windows hanging from outside and i just wanted to make sure - “
you opened the front door wider for him to see the state of your front entryway and his jaw dropped. there was water everywhere on the floor. the storm from the night before was aggressive and the age of the house couldn’t stand it. you didn’t anticipate for it to be this bad, having just shoved the windows closed before you went to bed.
“yeah, they’re wrecked,” you sighed, looking over to what was left of it, considering most of it was on the ground. “actually, that’s why i was screaming.”
“you know, i take what i said back. totally justified.”
“thanks,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. he made a gesture as if to come in and you obliged, carefully stepping aside and making sure you weren’t stepping in a puddle. “i’m surprised this hasn’t happened before.”
he let out a low whistle, as he walked inside and took in the sight of your floors. “honestly, me neither. you would think this would’ve happened already ages ago.”
you didn’t know what else to do but shrug. “i can handle it.” despite your words, you certainly could not handle it. there were still a million things you had to take care of around the farm and dealing with broken windows and water was an incredible burden that you didn’t know where to start.
“shit. look, i have to go to work in a bit, but let me help you out,” jungkook said.
you instantly shook your head. “jungkook, no. it’s fine, really, i got it.”
“you’ve never picked up a screwdriver in your life.”
“hey, you don’t know that!” you wanted to slap him upside the head like from when you were kids, but found the strength to refrain.
it was only jokes and jungkook’s smirk showed it, but his tone then became serious. “okay, then, at least let me help you fix your windows. dude, you live alone in this big ass house on this big ass farm. just say yes.”
at this point, you could tell he was exasperated with your stubborness and you laughed at it. you weren’t one to turn down someone offering to do manual labour for you, but you were hesitant to show any lack of indepdence. though, something told you to say yes and it wasn’t jungkook’s annoyance with your persistence.
“okay, fine. you’re real annoying, you know that?” you had to add in the last part, it was only natural.
he shook his head. “thank you - oh, how lucky i am for milady to accept my lousy, peasant self to fix your windows!” at that, you shoved him playfully and when he barely moved from your push, jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle.
“i know you’re perfectly capable of doing things yourself, by the way. you just shouldn’t have to all the time,” he gave you a pointed look.
you nodded slowly, looking down at your feet. “thank you, jungkook.”
though it was only 8 in the morning, you decided to take a later start in the day, since you usually woke up at the crack of dawn. you had your entire day ahead of you and what felt like a hundred things to do and the last thing you wanted to add was a trip to the hardware store.
“of course,” he carefully tiptoed around the water, moving back to the front door. “it’s what friends are for. i’ll come by tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”
this is not what you meant when you decided to “reconnect with nature” at all. with your fluffy indoor slippers soaked in rainwater, you were certainly more than connected with it. you made a mental note to visit the beach and call it a day, hoping that would fulfill your grandpa’s wish for you to be one with mother earth and that the forces of nature would leave you alone after that.
𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822 @seokoutt @firelcrds @taiwan0618
#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#jungkook imagine#bts au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook x you#jungkook scenarios#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#bts imagine#bts scenarios#bts series#jungkook au#*** / the farmhouse.
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just a girl
'cruel'
last - m.list - next
[april - imola - a lot of writing again]
"these crutches are killing me." addi let out a sigh, sitting in the chair and handing her crutches to her brother before massaging the area where they had left her sore. kelly chuckled a little bit at the much younger girl.
"it's great that you're here, i didn't think you'd be here." the wag spoke up, drinking and from her glass as the tv in front of them shows off the drivers doing their warm-up lap. addi shrugged, eyes glued to the tv, "yeah, my doctor wanted to make sure i was perfectly okay, travel doctors seem to take the most time," she chuckled "but i wanted to be here."
"i tried telling her not to come." claire spoke up and sat on the other side of addi. "watching this is gonna send her into a depression."
kelly nodded slowly, thinking, "or it could motivate her to stay rested so she can get checo out of here faster." she smiled brightly.
perez isn't exactly addi's favorite person in the world. originally, she had no issues with the older driver, not until he spoke badly about her when she gained her seat.
to understand the dynamic of their... rivalry, you have to understand the timeline. in 2019, pierre was the second driver for red bull. but after some incidents, it was in the talk that he wouldn't be staying with them after the 2019 season. this was in the talks very early on in the season, even before summer break. in the beginning, red bull was looking at checo, he was experienced, not half bad, he would make a great second driver. they were just about to sign contract with sergio when they started hearing word about addilyn joining ferrari as a reserved driver.
red bull has had their eye on addi for a long time at this point, they were hoping to sign her to alphatauri in 2020, just in time for the rebranding and time for addi to go through a season of f2. but if she signed as a reserve driver for ferrari there's no way she'd leave that for alphatauri. why? well because it was well known that ferrari was her goal, charles, who she had grown up with, would be her teammate after sebastian left or retired. not to mention the leclerc's and leblanc's have held an obvious love for ferrari since... well always.
they had a few attempts at gaining both checo and addi, first they tried the alphatauri deal, a guaranteed seat in formula 1. but she turned that down because she would've rather had ferrari. then they tried a a reserve driver deal for red bull. but she said no to that too. the only way to secure addi was a guaranteed seat with red bull.
and though the decision was hard for both addi and red bull, they both agreed. addi figured it was better than waiting years to drive, and if all goes bad she was promised a reserve driver title with ferrari still.
perez was obviously very unhappy, having that his relationship with racing point was done for after 2019. so red bull gave him a reserved seat. he only agreed because he believed that addi wouldn't last long in formula 1, let alone red bull.
but he always made sure people knew how unhappy and disgusted he was by addi's success. he's said things about how women should stay in the kitchen, how it'd be embarrassing to be beat by a woman, and so much more. and though his statements never made much noise, mainly because perez isn't all that cared about, it still made it's way back to addi to hear.
now here we are today, addilyn is injured, and sergio is in her seat. she's not really a happy camper. but he sure as hell is.
she watches the race, watching hamilton and verstappen battle it out. it's weird watching formula 1 from this point of view again after racing in it for a year. it's actually quite depressing to her. she feels like she's letting people down, letting herself down. and she's is scared that perez will take her seat. experienced, older driver versus a young girl with a sprained ankle at the moment. and she knows it's temporary, but the thought of it, the reality of it displayed in front of her, it made her sick to her stomach.
max came out on top, cheers erupted as he crossed the finish line. her brother helped her walk down so she can cheer and congratulate her teammate after he climbs out of the car. they stand at the barrier as she watches lando cross the line right after hamilton. p3 for norris. and she's suddenly remembering the other day. her heart feels like it's matching the same speed as her red bull.
"and what's stopping us from getting together?" he asked, leaning closer, looking in her eyes. he looks great, amazing actually. it's crazy how he can make something as simple as a hoodie with his own brand on it look so good. she swallows the lump that's stuck in her throat, looking down at her fingers as they pick at each others skin.
"pierre and arthur." she said, just above a whisper. she felt like a pile of shit, how could she do this to them. three boys have stolen her heart in ways she didn't think was possible, and now she's stuck with the aftermath of it. lando nods slowly, not pulling or looking away, but his face changes in a way she could not describe. "i'm sorry."
"you don't have to be sorry." he smiled at her a little, she loves his smile. along with his dimples, or maybe it's only one dimple, his smile drew her in from the moment they met. he's a charming man, a bit cheeky and sarcastic. "i'll wait for you."
she felt her heart flutter at his words. how could someone put themselves through that wait knowing there's two other men doing the same thing?
"until then! i'll be getting your coffee's and fluffing your foot pillow." he smiled and stood up, grabbing her coffee glass and returning to the kitchen to refill the glass with the cold brew.
she still feels like crap for that day, and it's safe to say she feels awkward around lando because of it, but he's assured her many times not worry about it. that it isn't her fault. but she felt like it was. how could she let herself fall so deep.
she smiled and clapped as the three cars pulled up to their spots, red bull parks behind the 1, then mercedes, then mclaren. she suddenly remembers that no one knows she's there, even her own team was shocked to see her as she squeezed past to get to the front beside kelly. max stands on top of the hood, celebrating, then hopping down. he does the usual run to the team, jumping into their arms as he walks over to her and kelly, hugging his girlfriend as she kisses his helmet, classic. then he reaches addi,
"you made it! oh my god!" he cheer and hugged her with a smile plastered on his face before he was rushed to move on. the drivers all weighed themselves, lewis smiling and waving at addi, meanwhile she hasn't caught lando's eye. she was asked for interviews after the podium celebration, and she was hesitant at first but she gave in after some time. she was in the middle of an interview when lando came up behind her and hugged her gently, being sure not to hurt her or make her fall.
"oh lando norris! hello!" the interviewer laughs and smiles "congratulations!"
"thank you." he smiles and lets go of the girl, standing next to her, "i didn't know you were here."
"i showed up during the warm-up lap, my doctor tried to stop me but, i wasn't gonna miss it." she laughed as he rolled his eyes and hugs her one more time, "congrats, norris." she smiled
"thank you, i have to go, i'll talk to you later." she nods at him before he walks away and she continues the interview.
charles got p4, but he didn't get word that she was there until after the interviews. or well, in the middle of an interview when he was asked if he had seen her yet. "i didn't know she was here!"
he literally ran to red bull to go see her, lucky him, she was outside with her nolan and claire. he runs up and hugs her, "i thought you weren't coming!"
"i tried stopping her." claire huffed. "the doctor didn't even want her to come,"
"why are you here?" charles glared at the young girl in his arms, she only rolled her eyes. she didn't want to miss a single race, even if she couldn't be the one on the podium, even if she wasn’t sweating like a porous pitcher on an italian summers day inside her helmet, she wanted to be there. over the past year, these people have become her family, even more than before. she didn't want to miss that.
the ride home in her brother's range rover was depressing. she sat in the backseat with her foot raised up on the empty seats next to her and a book in hand. arthur always made fun of her for reading in the car, mainly because he didn't understand how she could. she misses arthur. she hasn't seen or talked to him or pierre still, she's not really sure why anymore. she's talked to charles, lando, seb, now max and kelly. what's the point?
part of her is scared to ever since her conversation with lando, she's scared to find out how she actually feels about them. she's unsure what answer would be best in this situation. what if she likes arthur?. there's the possibility of them breaking up and a possibility that lando and pierre stop talking to her, broken friendships. and if she likes pierre? broken friendships. lando? broken friendships.
loving can be so cruel.
taglist: @love4lando @fairiepoems @leilanixx @ietss @charli123456789 @ayoanna @enhacolor @be-your-coffee-pot @alixnsuperstxr@vellicora@tpwkstiles@lndonrris @willowpains @gaslysainz @blueanfield
#f1#just a girl#charles leclerc#lando norris#˗ˏˋ lucie. ❝ just a girl ❞#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#arthur leclerc#formula 1#f1 x oc#f1 one shot#f1 fic#f1 dr#f1 grid#formula one#pierre gasly insta au#pierre gasly smau#pierre gasly imagine#lando norris smau#lando norris insta au#lando norris imagine#arthur leclerc smau#arthur leclerc insta au#arthur leclerc imagine
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋
➢ mha characters as american high school stereotypes
note: this literally makes me laugh every time i read it and i lowkey want to do a part 2
characters: midoriya, mina, denki, yaoyorozu, monoma
content: crack, no ships,
words: 0.6k
I. MIDORIYA — The Summer Glow Up
- ik he spent his freshman and sophomore yr being labeled as a simp even though he was just tryna be nice
- some girls in his class were screaming and hollering about how they had a boyfriend when all he asked was if they needed a pencil
- but whew that sophomore to junior yr summer did him right, giving him a few more inches and a nice deep voice
- when he came in everyone thought he was a new student until he said, “Here”, when his name was called
- now everybody and they momma be lowkey flirting with him
- got people asking him for rides home left n right and has about a million candy grams on valentines day
- poor man doesn’t know how to handle all this new attention since he still feels like the same ‘ole deku from last year :(
M. ASHIDO — The Camerawoman
- yk that person who lowkey gets the perfect shots during a fight?
- yea that’s her
- she’s always looking for fights to record and keeps a schedule of when they’re supposed to happen
- like you’ll see in her school planner “FIGHT @ 1 NEAR FIRST FLOOR BATHROOM” right next to her history hw
- lowkey almost gets suspended one day for "instigating" but gets out of it
- eventually gets tired of having to send everyone the fight and makes an insta page with denki
D. KAMINARI — Runner of the School’s Instagram(s)
- never sleep, fight, or tell him drama
- cause it’s gon on one of them insta pages
- it started with just making a sleep page and then spread like a wildfire
- got so popular he moved on to the drama and eventual fight page that he co-runs with mina
- it got so bad that people were scared to sleep in class and fights were more frequent
- the school can't do too much about it since no one’s snitched on him yet ;)
M. YAOYOROZU — The Nice "It Girl"
- basically the smarter version of cher from clueless
- minus the terrible driving and falling in love with her stepbrother
- always smells so good and will lend you anything you ever need
- just give it back to her or she will hunt you down
- takes the prettiest notes and is the first one to have her hand raised in every class
- the president of student council for all four years
- everyone knows her but she has a small circle of friends
- don’t take her kindness for granted though or you’ll get a lot of nasty stares in the hallway
N. MONOMA — The Devil’s Advocate
- def that guy that you see across the hallway that you think is pretty
- until he opens his mouth and you realize that he has a pretty punchable face
- always starts his sentences off with, “I don't mean to be that person but…” and then goes on to say some mess
- don’t expect him to help you with anything during a group project
- but if he does, you both are gonna end up fighting more than completing the project
- always has a smirk on his face and will start arguments just because he thinks its funny
- the teachers love him yet hate him
- on one hand, he gets the class to engage in discussions, but on the other do they really want to spend their prep period dragging another student off of him?
➢ thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed and don't forget that Jesus loves you, to drink water, eat some food, and get some rest :))
➢ taglist: 🫧
@megurulvr
#.angiewrites#headcannons>>>#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia x poc!reader#my hero academia x black!reader#mha#mha x reader#mha x poc!reader#mha x black!reader#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha x poc!reader#bnha x black!reader#izuku midoriya#izuku x reader#izuku x poc!reader#izuku x black!reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya x poc!reader#midoriya x black!reader#mina ashido#mina x reader#mina x poc!reader#mina x black!reader#ashido x reader#ashido x poc!reader#ashido x black!reader#denki kaminari#denki x reader
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Dark! Jason Dilaurentis X Black Reader
Warnings: language, back shots, slight forced motion, bathroom sex, oral
"y/n, get your ass over here right now" the blonde said through the phone. You and four others were best friends with the meanest girl in Rosewood.
Even worse, she would force you specifically to sleepover at her house. Days ago, she had told you she was getting anonymous texts from someone named "A". Meaning, Allison was as clingy has ever. I’ve never seen her scared before. I was genuinely worried.
So when she called I always went.
"Fine, just let me pack my stuff" I uttered. I frantically stuffed my bag with needed necessities, and made my way over to Ali's.
I knocked on her front door and to my surprise, her big brother Jason answered it. He glared at me erotically, as if I wore a naked bird waiting for its mother to bathe him.
The glare went on for about a minute. Was he going to let me through or what. I hope Alison comes down the stairs, I hate awkward silences. Jason was so tall and so muscular you could his body print through the shirt. I couldn’t deny it, Jason was really fine. The first time I met him was in the summer of 6th grade, I was sure he was annoyed by me.
“Do you wanna go to your friend or should I close the door” he asks. I shake my head yes and walk past him and I go straight to Allison’s room. I don’t even look back, my body aches in embarrassment. Jason seemed mad, maybe something happened before I came and now I made him more upset.
Hours have gone by, and we still haven't figured out who "A" is. I don’t want to sound like a bad friend or anything but I’m not really surprised that Allison has someone bothering her. She torments other people and I hate when she does that shit. I almost stopped being her friend because of it ,she begged me for days to forgive her and I finally budged.
Allison was really scared though, I’d never seen her in this state before, she’s usually the bully but now she’s the bullied. She’s digging in her box, looking at all the notes from A. I squeeze her shoulder, so she’s knows I’m here for her. “Alli maybe you should give this a break, and A hasn’t texted once since I have been here, maybe they’re done”
“They are not, I’m telling you if u weren’t here, they would be sending paper plates to my window with threats” She looks at me as her face is puffy, I haven’t made to much attention to her face since I got here, but her eyes are puffy and her skin is red. She had been crying. “We could go to the cops and report them” As I finish the sentence she breaks out into tears crashing into her bed. “Don’t you think I thought that, they’ll hurt me if I do it” I’m about to open myself but her mother walks right in and calls us for dinner.
The table was so quiet, it differed largely from my household. There was no loud kids crying , no small conversations nothing.
I kept trying to figure out who would be trying to mess with Allison but the list of people who hated ali was too long. She’s so scared and fragile kind of like a baby, it was like I was walking on glass around her. I could say one thing and she’ll crack. I didn’t know what to say to her and she didn’t tell the rest of the girls, so I don’t have anyone else to talk about this too.
I picked at my spaghetti and meatballs, twirling the noodles on my fork. My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a large hand on my thigh, I look down to see Jason's hand caressing it.
I didn’t hate it, it’s not like Jason was unattractive but he was Ali’s big brother so he was automatically off limits. I learned that when Hannah looked at him too hard last summer and Ali had a fit. If she sees this she’s definitely gonna do more then have a fit. I can’t do this Ali, she was just crying infront of me upstairs and now I’m getting touched by her brother, am I a bad friend.
I closed my eyes hoping when I open them again his hand would disappear but it didn’t. I opened them again to still see his hand still on my bare thigh. I had to leave. Allison and I have had our arguments and pretty fights but this is pushing it. I get Allison mad but who knows what she would do is she was furious.
"Can I be excused" I asked before getting up without hearing an answer. I had to get out of that situation, I head to bathroom and wash my face, I was sweating like crazy. I look at myself in the mirror to see Jason behind me. His hard body was pressed up on my butt. I realize I was practically arching in front of the mirror.
“You were gonna leave with out saying goodbye” he asked. I look at him using the mirror,he was looking down at me. N-no just needed to step away for a few” I stuttered. He moved his body slowly caressing his groan on my butt.The feeling was painful but a good painful, I wanted to feel more of that.
If Ali sees this I’m dead. Before I knew it Jason pants came off and so did mine. He bent me over the sink and my arch was lowkey pretty. He moved his dick up and down, teasing me. He slide it inside slowly , we both moaned as it was entering. He started slow and I couldn’t control myself, my moans were just slipping out with no control. Hearing this he went even faster, he covered my mouth. So nobody would hear, his groans were low and sexy.
"You like that princess" he asked. I couldn’t even answer, his dick was taking me away. He went faster and faster, you could hear the sink rattling a little bit. I was enjoying it but I was getting worried, what if Allison came looking for me, I’ve been gone for some time now. He grabs my neck and he goes fully in, he takes slow shots. I’m taking every inch of him. He groaned loudly, he came.
He was so close behind me, I could feel his body heat. He turned me around and looked in my face. I didn’t look away for a second. He was so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His lips looked so soft, I had to taste them. I leaned in and kissed him , he kissed back. Our tongues were fighting each other and his mouth tasted like fresh mint. He was such a good kisser, I loved every sound he made. He groaned and I moaned, he reached into my shirt grabbing my titties. He took them out the bra and started touching my nibbles. His hands were so cold, goosebumps came over my body. He lifted up my shirt and started sucking my titties.
Nobody has ever done that to me before. The boys in this town don’t know how to please a girl, since jason was man he knew how to do it. He looked up at me with his brown/green eyes (I forgot the color), he looked like an angel, my pussy was in heat, I took his hands and brought them down to my pussy, he took a look at me and put his head in between my legs. I moaned softly, so he could hear. His head was warm and his tongue was so wet. He was eating me out, it felt so good. I was leaking into his mouth and he slurped up everything. “Jason” I moan. I brush my hand through his hair, it was extremely soft. As I came in his mouth, there was a knock on the door, Ali was on the other side of it.
“Y/n, Y/n” she screamed, she banged on the door, I was so scared I pushed jason off of me and started putting my clothes on. He looks at me calm, I motion my hand to the shower , and he goes in it I throw him his clothes and I leave the bathroom.
“What took you so long”
“I had gas” I lied.
“Ew” she said, she walks and I follow behind her. More A hunt, I turn around and I see Jason quietly leaving the bathroom. We lock eyes and he blows me a kiss. Oh my god Jason is so fine
Note;
I rewrote it, hope y’all enjoy.
#black reader#jason dilaurentis#pll#pretty little liars#x black fem reader#blackreader#unexpected#smut
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LOVE HIM (I DID)
OBX WRITING WEEK DAY 4 — SECOND CHANCE W/ RAFE CAMERON
word count: 1093
summary: rafe leaves for the last time. y/n comes back for the last time.
a/n: sorry this is a day late! was absolutely slammed this week with work, so the rest of my stories for obx week will be pushed back by one day. <3
You should’ve known better. You had met Rafe through your favorite cousin, at a backyard pool party. It was late and you two were the only ones left standing outside, lighting cigarettes off the oven.
That was in the summer, you could’ve never seen the bloodbath that was coming. Never would have known what a waste of time being with him was. Because no matter how good it felt, none of that was worth how awful his absence felt.
And no matter how much you wanted it to work out, loving him was just not fair. It was sad really, how often he left and how often you let him back into your life.
“Why are you leaving again? Please tell me,” you begged.
"Because I don't want to fucking hurt my girlfriend.” Rafe snapped. "God, half the time I'm with you, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."
You wanted nothing more than to help him. It broke your heart to see him struggling and instead of going to you for help, he would run away. Every time.
“Rafe, I can handle it. We’re supposed to be in this together,” you responded.
“No, no I can’t hurt you anymore.”
“You’re hurting me right now.”
That was the last time you two spoke, nearly a month ago. You, too tired to try anymore, and Rafe, too stubborn to come back for one last time.
He had his issues. He would come over upset sometimes, from a long day of work or dealing with his father. You were always able to calm him down, but you could tell that he felt like a burden. You always assured him he was anything but, that you loved him and you would never get tired of him.
It never seemed to get through his head, or his heart, the fact that he was loved. You began to believe that maybe love wasn’t enough, that maybe you weren’t enough.
Being with him started taking a toll on you, and he knew this too. But this didn’t mean that you wanted to break up, you were willing to fix things with him. You always were.
Even though you weren’t seeing him anymore, you had his best friends send you occasional updates on how he was doing. Topper said that he was, quote, “sad, but getting through it,” which you’re not sure was reassuring or not.
Still, you were glad to see him back at work and smiling sometimes on the beach. You kept your distance from him, knowing that maybe this was the break he needed to finally get better. If you weren’t going to help him, you just wished someone or something else did. It was a hard truth to swallow, that the love of your life might be better off without you, but you loved him more than the truth.
One day, his other friend Kelce told you something that stopped you in your tracks. Apparently, Rafe was in therapy. You could hardly believe the words he was saying to you.
“Like, he’s talking to a professional? About his feelings?”
“Apparently, he didn’t say much to me. You know how he is,” Kelce explained.
“What were his exact words?” Maybe his friend had heard wrong.
“Uhhh, ‘Nah, I can’t go, I got therapy.’”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, that was it.”
“Well, how does he seem nowadays? Better?”
Kelce hesitated, knowing that if he said yes, you might feel bad, but if he said no, you would feel even worse. He settled on the truth, “Yeah, honestly he does seem better. Smiling and laughing. Making jokes again. He was so serious a few months ago when you guys broke up for real.”
The word “break up” was still sensitive to you, but you pushed on. “Good, that’s really good. Thanks, Kelce.”
Back at home, you wondered about what this meant for you two. If there was even a “you two” to begin with. You both had been on your own for so long now, it almost felt like that backyard pool party had never happened. Almost.
You knew that no matter how hard you tried to forget him, Rafe would always be an important part of your life. You told yourself that you didn’t love him anymore, that you only used to, but that wasn’t true. No matter how hard loving him got, losing him was even worse. You decided that this would be the last time once and for all.
He answered his door on your third knock.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Rafe. How are you? Can I come in?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Uhh, sure. Come in, is there something wrong?” His eyes scanned your face and body for any signs of distress or hurt.
“No, nothing is wrong,” you smiled at him gently, hoping to change the anxious expression on his face. “Kelce told me you were in therapy.”
“Oh.”
“Is that true?”
“Yeah.” He wasn’t offering you anything. “My therapist says that I should take time to be alone right now. To work on myself instead of depending on other people.”
“I understand,” you said slowly. “I just came over here to check on how you were doing.”
“Look, Y/N, we do this every time. I appreciate you checking on me but this is my problem to fix.”
“You can fix this problem, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone all the time. You know I’m here for you, right?”
“I know, but that was the issue. I only depended on you. It wasn’t fair to you.”
For the first time, he was admitting it out loud. The fact that there was never a balance in your relationship.
He continued, “You didn’t have anyone to lean on. I knew that and I was being selfish because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone.”
“Rafe…”
“Y/N, can I just ask you one thing?”
“Yes?”
“That you’ll be there for me when I’m better. I’m not telling you not to see anyone else, or even wait for me, just that I’ll at least have a friend when I find myself again. Because I’m worried you’re not going to like who that is, hell, I don't even know who I am underneath everything.”
You sighed, “Of course. I know you, I know how incredible and kind and sensitive you are. You’re my best friend, at the end of the day. Always.”
With that, he pulled you into his arms and you hugged as if for the first time.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#obx#outer banks#obx x reader#obx imagine#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x you#obxweek23
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Somewhere only we know - Chapter 13 (Kendall Roy x Reader)
Masterlist
Series summary: You met Kendall when you were six years old. You have spent every summer together and now years later you and him are still just as close. This story follows Kendall and his best friend through their lives. Will they realize their feelings for each other before it’s too late?
Chapter summary: While the Roys are at their mothers wedding you get a phone call that is turning your world upside down. Following the events he makes a decision that could change his life for the better and yours too.
Authors Notes: We’re so so close to an confession!! I hope you like this chapter! Much love to everyone who’s still keeping up with the story! 🤍
Wordcount: 3.1K
You hear you’re phone ring. The caller ID says Connor wich makes you furrow your brows. Why would Connor call you from Caroline’s wedding? You accept the call, with a weird feeling spreading in your stomach, remembering last time you got a call from a Roy family member that wasn’t Kendall while they were out of the country.
”Hello?“ You ask slightly wary. He says your name in a somber tone before telling you ”Something happened.“ You take a deep breath the dark feeling starting to grow.
”It’s about Kendall. There was an accident and he, yeah, he almost drowned.“ He says and your breathing stops
”He fell off a pool float, he was drunk. We don’t know if it was an accident or..“ Tears gather in your eyes ”Is he..?“ You ask even if you’re afraid of the answer of how bad it is. If he died you don’t know how you would cope. ”He is stable, they’re keeping him til tomorrow.“ You close your eyes and exhale a shaky breath ”Can you send me the name of the hospital? I will be there as soon as possible.“ You ask him. ”Y/n you don’t have to-“
”No. Con, I need to.“
He mumbles an okay and take care, you tell him you’ll be in contact with him and if there’s any news about Kendall he should call or text you.
While organizing a jet you get a suitcase out and throw in anything you can catch. It feels like you’re almost in some kind of trance, you’re almost too calm. In less than 15 minutes you are out of your apartment and on the way to the airport.
You board your families jet, Connor has send you the name and address of the hospital Kendall was admitted to. You have also texted with Jess and Roman. You haven’t contacted Kendall himself, maybe you’re scared he will tell you not to come and because he was still not awake when Connor called you. You aren’t even sure if he knows that you’ve been told about what happened.
You know you should use the next hours to sleep but how are you supposed to when you don’t know what happened to your best friend, the man who you are in love with. You open your phone and go to the folder with all the pictures you have of him. There are funny ones of the two of you together and others where you attended galas and dinners together. You stop when you reach one where Kendall is sleeping. He looks so peaceful and carefree. You’ve taken it a year ago when he fell asleep on your couch while watching some movie. You wonder when it all went so wrong, you remember when he carried you all the way home on his back to your parents summer house after you cut your foot at the beach. Or when he rapped along to his new favorite song on your dorm bed. The way you two danced through the night in Shanghai’s clubs. All these memories rush through your head and you can’t stop yourself from crying.
You arrive at the hospital after an exhausting 10 hour flight and a taxi ride. You had slept for about an hour before waking again, too anxious to drift off again. You knew Kendall wasn’t doing well but you hadn’t thought it was this bad. You feel like you should have noticed how bad he was doing.
You ask to see Kendall but you really haven’t thought this through because you’re met with an ”I’m sorry signora, we can’t let unauthorized people to him. Only family.“ you nod, turning around contemplating what to do. Connor told you they weren’t going to the hospital but will see him after he’s released. You see Comfry on her phone. Jackpot.
You walk over to the blonde woman who smiles at you and gives a little wave. After she hangs up, she brings you to Kendall’s room. She stops outside to tell you about what happened, when and how he was found, that he’s mostly fine now but they kept him overnight to be sure.
You open the door to his room, he is resting on the bed, awake and looking out of the window. ”Kenny.“ you get out before tears come to your eyes. His head snaps towards you fast, he’s shocked to see you here. Who told you? Why did you come? It reminds him of the press conference where you appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He knows it was Roman who told you what was going on but still it feels like you always know when he needs you most by his side.
He says you name and you walk towards his bed, crushing him in a hug. He strokes your hair and after minutes you let him go. ”Sorry, sorry.“ you say wiping your tears. ”It’s okay, please don’t cry.“ he tells you cupping the side of your face. ”You shouldn’t have come, nothing happend. I’m fine, really.“ Kendall tells you to wich you shake your head. ”Kendall. No - of course.“ you tell him. Did he really thought you wouldn’t come after you heard what happened? ”Connor called me and I knew I had to get here. I just needed to see you.“
You don’t pry him about the situation knowing he will talk to you on his own terms. You just lay with him on the hospital bed. Pressing kisses onto his shaven head. ”My Dad- Uh, he won’t let me leave.“ Kendall says to you in a low distant sounding voice. ”What?“ you ask confused, since you’ve read the birthday card where he offered it. ”We had dinner yesterday. I wanted out but he- yeah, he said no.“ Kendall answers you and you feel like you swallowed a hot stone, you’re so mad at his father. Logan’s constant psychological abuse of his children. ”God. Kenny.“ is all you get out and just from that the man knows you’re mad. ”It’s okay.“ he assures you and you turn so you face him. ”No it’s really not. God i hate him so much.“ you can’t help yourself ”I’m so sorry Kendall. You don’t deserve being treated like that. You deserve so, so much better.“ he feels tears well up and he blinks fast, tries to swallow all these feelings again.
Instead he asks you if you’ll come with him to his mothers wedding and of course you say yes.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Comfry comes into the room a few hours later with one of the doctors, Kendall is being released. A car is already waiting outside.
You arrive at the house his family has rented. You catch Sophies eyes and give her a small wave and a smile. She smiles back, happy to see you. You eye Logan warily who sits next to the kids. Suddenly acting like a grandfather, you fight the urge to scoff. He looks at you but you avert your eyes quickly, turning toward the siblings who sit around a table playing monopoly. They make some jokes about Kendall’s accident slash attempt and you roll your eyes, wich Connor catches. But you don’t care, you’re here for Kendall. Connor sounded worried yesterday when he called you, you don’t understand how they can act like that now, not even a day later.
”Kids! Come on we’re leaving!“ Kendall shouts and you wrap your arm around Iverson. ”What are you doing here?“ Sophie asks with a mischievous grin. She’s not opposed to you and her father dating. She was old enough when her parents divorced to know it was better that way, she heard them fighting. Iverson took the break up harder and you can’t blame him. ”What? can’t I just go to the wedding of my best friend mother?“ you say to her jokingly.
”But you weren’t here yesterday?“ Iverson asks ”Y/n had a work thing she had to attend, that’s why she’s late.“ Kendall says quickly. He loves how well you get along with his kids, even if that means having Sophie asking him questions about you two later.
While Kendall is off to a meeting with his siblings, wich unbeknownst to you is an intervention, you and Comfry go to find you a dress to wear for the festivities. You have grown to like the woman even though your relationship with her is definitely not as deep as yours and Jess.
You buy a dress that fits you perfectly and is fitting for Carolines wedding.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You attend the wedding alongside Kendall. You give your congrats to Caroline and her soon to be husband, who’s name you already forgot. You’re sitting with Willa and Connor. Kendall wanted you to sit with him at the family table but you assured him you’re fine. He argued that you would be his plus one for this event but you declined. Your eyes find each other’s during the speeches multiple times, sending small smiles across the lawn.
When the eating part is over you and Kendall stay close to each other, holding hands the entire time, his arm around you. It just feels natural and you both just want to keep physical contact after everything that had happened who wouldn’t try to seek some comfort.
Maybe it’s the fact that he could have died but you just need him close to you, to feel that he’s alive. And he feels the same, he doesn’t want to get away from you. He doesn’t care about all the guest around, not really keen on striking up a conversation with anyone that isn’t his best friend.
You’re leaning into his shoulder while he smokes when Shiv and Roman come and ask to talk to him. He shrugs and tells them that he’s not interested but they are consistent and it seems like it’s urgent, so he relents and excuses himself from you for a moment. He kisses the side of your head goodbye and you hear Shiv ask ”So what? Are you together now?“ as they walk away.
The next time you’re hearing from Kendall is while you’re with Connor and he tells you about his upcoming campaign when you get an incoming call from Kendall. You excuse yourself for a moment and walk a bit away from the other guests before you answer the call. ”Y/n! We had to leave the party. We’re going to kill dad.“ he says and you furrow your brows ”Metaphorically speaking of course.“ he adds ”Wait- what? Who?“ you stammer, still confused on what is going on ”Me and the sibs.“ then he explains their plan before telling you, you can’t tell anyone about this but you wouldn’t anyway. Before hanging up he promises to call you as soon as he can and you promise him to stay with his kids until then. You stay at the ceremony, sitting with his children, you talk to Willa about her engagement and Connor reminisce about your childhood. You dance with Sophie and Iverson and briefly talk to Greg who tells you about his Comfry / Duchess dilemma and you laugh at his words. ”Nooo Greg, you can’t treat Comfry like that. She’s so nice to you“ you tell him honestly.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
”How did killing Logan went?“ you ask once Kendall comes back into the house he’s staying in. It’s late and Sophie and Iverson are already in bed. You had texted Rava earlier that you had taken the kids back to the house. You knew she was feeling better if you looked after them then when Logan did, after all he had hit iverson before. She had called to talk to the kids and you had spoken to her afterwards.
You’re sitting on the couch, skipping through the tv channels when he comes back. You glance at him as he steps into the living room and you can tell it didn’t went down smoothly. ”Tom fucked us.“ he says and your eyebrows shoot up „Are you serious?“ he sits down next to you, his head leaning back against the cushion, staring at the ceiling ”Yeah he told him about our plan.“ you would have not thought Tom would go like this against his wife. ”But the sibs and me, we’re gonna do our thing. Without dad.“ he tells you before saying ”I told them about uh, Shivs wedding.“ you know instantly what he’s referring to.
”It’s funny, Roman said the same thing you did.“ he says and you turn, so that you’re facing him ”It’s the truth Ken. It was an accident.“ you say and he looks at you, nodding a little, it’s really faint and you could have easily missed it.
”Are you hungry? The chefs already left but I got some leftovers in the fridge for you.“ he thinks then that he doesn’t deserve how much you care about him. You flew here as soon as you heard about what happened to him and now you make sure he eats. He loves you. More than a friend and he has known this for some months now. Your love is the purest most unconditional kind of love he has ever been given and he knows he needs you in his life, you make him a real person. You don’t see him as an extension of his Dad, or some famous douchebag, a Roy. You don’t see him as a killer. You see him. Kenny. Kendall. And he thinks he would like to come home to you every day. He wouldn’t dread his apartment anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that he could have died that day but he feels like he needs to get better and to confess his feelings to you finally. He can’t let this chance you two have go away again. Not if it could be everything he wanted for a long time.
"Thank you.“ he says then and you know that he’s not only talking about leftovers. "No need to, Kendall.“ you scratch his buzzed head. "I appreciate it, really. It uh it means a lot.“ he says and you answer him "Well you mean a lot to me.“ and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. While you put the food into the microwave Kendall goes to say goodnight to his Kids. He eats on the couch next to you and after you watch some tv show you go to sleep. There are like thousand rooms in this house but it’s not a question that you are sharing a bed.
You’re laying on your side and Kendall rests on his back when he starts speaking
”I know things are difficult right now, uh with me and I know im putting a lot on you too.“ Kendall admits and you know this is hard for him. ”Its okay, Kendall. I know you’re going through some things at the moment and that’s not your fault.“ you tell him before adding
”And you don’t need to apologize, its beyond your control and of course im there for you. Like you’ve been with me when I was going through hard times.“
”Yeah but I feel like its my fault with the-“ he clears his throat ”With my relapse.“ He finally says and you swallow. Its progress that he can admit that he’s struggling again instead of telling you its fine.
”I feel like, I- I- am maybe at my breaking point.“
He turns on his side, facing you now.
”I think I need to, I need to get better. For my siblings. For you.“ you take his hand in yours ”For me, uh for me too.“ he says at last
”I think that’s a good plan, Ken.“
You whisper "I love you.“ as he drifts off to sleep and he lets himself feel a shimmer of hope that everything could get better.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••
You flip through the papers Jess had dropped off at Kendall’s earlier. They’re rehab facilities he could go to. Its a few days later and you’re glad he’s still planning to go.
”Do you already know wich one you’re going to?“ you ask
”I think the one in Denmark sounds good. It has an eight week programm.“ he answers and you flip to the clinic he meant.
Reading over the text it does sound nice and the pictures look good too.
”When will you go?“
”They have a spot in two days open.“ you nod
”Do you want me to come with you?“
”To Denmark? You don’t have to.“
You give him a smile ”Yeah, but that’s not what I’ve asked.“
He takes a breath looking at you sincerely
”Of course I would like you to come but I, uh, I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much for me.“
You shrug now
”When does the jet leave?“
••••••••••••••••••••••••
He takes his shirt you’ve worn the night before with him. It smells like you and he needs something that reminds him of you. He doesn’t tell you, but you’ve seen him put it in the suitcase. But you don’t care, you kept one of his too and there are still multiple ones around your apartment. And two months is a long time for you two to be apart.
”What happens to us if I go now?“ he asks when you’re in bed that night. His fingers drawing shapes onto your arm.
”We’ll have all the time in the world when you come back. But now you need to focus on yourself.“ you tell him cupping his face. It’s the truth but it’s also a promise. You are aware that whatever is going on between you isn’t purely platonic anymore and more than just a crush now. It’s seems like it’s always on the brink of spilling over. You hope that you can talk about it once he returns, but he needs to be clean for that so you can be sure it’s what he really wants.
”I’ll be right here.“ another promise, he won’t come back to find you in a relationship.
You’ve waited such a long time these few months won’t matter.
”I’ll be back soon.“ he says
”Take as much time as you need.“
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
There are a few photographers and you’re glad for the darkened windows of the car. You arrived In Denmark yesterday evening and spent last night in a shared hotel room.
His hand is still in yours. Since it’s a private clinic with high privacy values you’re being driven through big gates that close behind you. You give him a long hug
”I’m really proud of you.“
He holds you a little tighter.
”I love you.“ he answers
”I love you too, Kenny. So much.“
”Thank you. For, uh for everything.“
”Always.“
You sit for a few more minutes holding each other before he knows it’s time to leave. He releases his arms from around you
”Goodbye Kendall.“
”Goodbye Y/n.“ he tells you and you press a lingering kiss to his cheek.
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I think it’s amazing how you fleshed out Hangman in Bad Habit, his backstory is so believable and how he’s just as fragile as the reader too. It was beautifully written 😭🥹
I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but it would be so interesting to see the reader being introduced to Jakes parents and standing up for Jake when his dad keeps making digs at him because you know she would have his back no matter what 💪🏻and Hangman just falls more in love with her ❤️
♡ pairing ; boyfriend ! hangman x female!reader
♡ wc ; 4k
♡ warnings ; angst, sappiness, toxic parents, some sexual innuendo and the tiniest, tiniest, tiniest breeding kink hint at the end (i can't believe i just typed that goodbye)
♡ note ; bad habit universe. anon, i need you to understand the way this ask made me go feral. i'm so sorry this got so long but i truly went INSANE i BLACKED OUT. goodbye.
Jake is jumpy before you even get in the car. He spends way too long picking out his pants and shirt, messing with the cufflinks, wrapping and loosening the tie around his neck a hundred times until you finally take it off him.
“It’s just your parents, Jake,” you say softly, letting the garment - dark green silk, your last Christmas present to him because it brings out his eyes - drop onto the hotel bed. “Don’t be nervous.”
It’s stupid advice, and you know it. You’re pretty sure the thought of his father has made Jake nervous his entire life.
But under the gentle pressure of your hands on his shoulders, some of the tension seems to drain out of him. He all but slumps against you with a sigh, dropping his head into the crook of your neck. Like all the fight just evaporates.
“It’s been so long,” he whispers against your skin, but what he means is: I’m scared.
You wrap your arms around him, wishing with a sudden, unfamiliar fierceness that you could shield him from anything bad in the world.
“It’ll be okay,” you whisper back, but what you mean is: I know. I’m with you.
On the drive, in a rental that smells too new, too clean, you’re the nervous one. Knee bouncing up and down, fingers drumming along to the pop songs on the radio but missing the rhythm entirely.
Jake puts a hand on your thigh, just above the knee, just below the hem of your floral sundress. Warm skin on warm skin, even with the aircon blasting. The last freckles of summer are still fading on the backs of his hands.
His touch, unfailingly, sends a shiver down your back.
“Nervous to meet the in-laws?” he asks, signals, and pulls off the highway. Outside the window, factories and strip malls make room for a residential area, for swingsets in back yards and sweet tea on front porches.
The words have heat rising to your face. You’re not even engaged, let alone married. Still, Jake’s been known to introduce you as the Missus, to carry a polaroid of you in his wallet, to talk to you about which tropical destinations you should spend your retirement benefit plans on when you’re both seventy. (You don’t tell him he’ll be seventy a good few years before you because it’ll just make him pout, and then you’ll kiss him, and then you won’t do any talking anymore.)
“Just… I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before,” you admit.
Jake hums, lifts his hand from your knee to tangle his fingers with yours instead, pulls them up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to your knuckles. His eyes never leave the road.
“You’ll do fine, sweetheart.” And then his smirk turns mischievous. “I love that dress on you. Will like it even more when I take it off you later, though.”
You laugh more for his benefit than because you actually find it amusing. There’s the familiar spark of desire, but it’s faint, muffled, distant.
It’s not hard to tell that Jake’s heart isn’t really in it. That’s okay. Yours isn’t either.
The house is perfect. Impeccably kept lawns, greener than the Texan heat should allow for, bushes trimmed into neat squares like somebody is exercising their personal vendetta on nature. Big windows and a car parked in a perfect parallel line to the curb. There’s something cold to it all.
On the walk up to the front door, while you’re careful not to step on any patches of that green, green grass, you take Jake’s hand, and you can’t tell if it’s for his benefit or your own. He squeezes back just once.
Jake’s mother is just like that house - so perfect it scares you.
She looks like one of those housewives in laundry detergent advertisements from the 50s. Manicured fingers, a string of pearls around her neck, lips painted a rosy shade of red.
Suddenly you’re sure your dress is too short, your hair isn’t styled carefully enough, you’re wearing too much make-up. You want to hide.
She greets you at the door, a smile on her face that seems almost a little nervous.
“Jake,” she says and kisses him on both cheeks but doesn’t hug him. They haven’t seen each other in two years.
You hang back, unsure, wishing you could go invisible, but Jake puts a hand on the small of your back, pushes you forward, smiles, and looks proud in a way you can’t explain.
“This is my girl,” he says, and there’s so much in it. Not girlfriend, because you’re more than that. Not wife, because you’re not yet. But his, always, always his, since that night he walked into you at the Hard Deck. His, even when you still swore up and down you hated him.
His mother shakes your hand, smiles not unkindly, and leads you into the house.
Jake and you sit on the couch as she hands you glasses filled with a sensible amount of iced water. An old, imposing grandfather clock ticks away the seconds.
“Your father’s in his study,” she says, eyes shifting rapidly like she can’t decide where to look. “I’ll check what’s keeping him.”
The whole house smells like the roast sizzling in the oven, like the steaming peach cobbler you saw through the open kitchen door when you walked in.
Jake is tense beside you, on guard. He sits on the edge of the sofa, palms spread on his knees like he’ll spring up at any moment and sprint out of the house, out of the state, back home to California, to the little apartment the two of you are renting. An apartment without lace curtains, without grandfather clocks, an apartment without grass or manicured bushes. But an apartment with warmth and sheets that smell like his shampoo, like your flowery body lotions, with a stain on the sofa cushion where you spilled red wine, with a burn mark on one of the kitchen counters from the one time Jake tried to cook dinner and set a pan down on the linoleum.
Not a perfect house, but a kind one. A home.
You loop your arm through his and press your cheek into his sleeve.
“You okay?” he asks softly. Even now, he’s still thinking about you, and you wonder how you could ever, for one moment, for one second, believe that he was selfish. Your chest feels tight, too narrow for all these emotions to fit inside.
You nod. “Are you?”
He’s about to answer when his mother comes back.
The man trailing behind her is unmistakeably his father. You can recognize the traces of Jake in his eyes, in the line of his mouth, but he lacks his charm, his boyish air. Lacks the flicker of kindness in the stiff smile. The hair at his temples has greyed with age, but his gaze is clear and sharp. It flicks from Jake to you, and his mouth twists downward.
Jake jumps up the moment his father enters the room, back ramrod straight. You follow slowly, choosing to hang back a little. Hiding at least partially behind Jake.
“Sir,” Jake says, voice different than you’ve ever heard, and you watch in amazement as they shake hands.
Involuntarily, you think of your own mother, smothering you in kisses after you got back from a school trip. You, pushing her away, glancing at your friends, saying, ew, stop, Mom.
Suddenly you think you might cry.
“This is her?” Jake’s father asks, waving a hand in your direction. He’s looking only at his son, you note, not at you.
“Yeah,” Jake answers and tells them your name.
You give him what you hope is a sweet smile, but his father ignores you.
“Is dinner ready?”
Jake’s mother nods. “Yes. We can go to the dining room.”
There are flags on the walls, plaques, and framed medals. Pictures of aircrafts and squadrons, men in uniforms that look dated now. There’s nothing new here, no traces of Jake apart from a framed photograph on the mantlepiece, him grinning into the camera at what you think might have been his senior prom.
It’s strange. You remember Jake telling you he sends all the mementos of his accomplishments to his parents. Maybe they keep them upstairs, you think, but somehow you doubt it.
When you get back home, you’ll ask him to hang them in your hallway instead. You didn’t even want him to put his Top Gun diploma on the sideboard near the entrance, but now you feel different about it.
All of them, you think. Everything. I’ll put out the award from the Spelling Bee he won in second grade.
In the dining room, Jake’s mother serves you roast and mashed potatoes and green beans in sensible portions on crisp white china.
“Your favorite,” she says, smiling at Jake.
You don’t say anything, but it’s on the tip of your tongue, burning there. Lasagna, you want to say, his favorite food is lasagna. One time he came home from a deployment and ate so much of it he got sick.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jake says, smiling a smile you’ve never seen. One that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Everybody makes small talk. His mother asks you a few questions about your teaching position, tentatively inquiring about your plans for the future.
“I’ll buy her a house,” Jake interjects, sounding serious and proud, and you stare at your plate to hide the smile.
He’s joking, probably. No way he means that.
His father doesn’t talk to you at all. He asks Jake increasingly aggressive questions about his last deployment, about the squadron he’s been assigned to, about when he’ll finally make the jump from Lieutenant Commander to Commander.
Jake hesitates, then he says, “Actually, Sir… I was thinking of teaching.”
The older man pauses, scotch glass halfway to his mouth, amber liquid sloshing against the rim.
“Teaching,” he repeats, a tension to the word that borders on danger.
Jake nods. “At Top Gun.”
His father sets his glass down on the tabletop with a sound softened by the silk cloth. You’ve gone quiet, frozen, as has Jake’s mother. Both of you staring like you’re watching a car crash - impossible to stop it, impossible to look away.
“Why,” Jake’s father says softly, “would you ever want to do that?”
Jake tips his chin up and answers, “Well… It’s close to home. And when we get married, when we get a house, I want to be there. Not on active duty, I want….”
And he’s mentioned it once before, but back then, you thought it was a joke. The idea of Jake torturing poor Top Gun hopefuls is a little unsettling, or at least it was, but you’re beginning to understand. You think he could be good at it, great maybe, teaching those people not to make the same mistakes he used to make.
When we get married, he’d said. Not if. When.
The thing Jake has loved most in his life - and you know this - was flying out there. Being in the midst of it all, in the thick of it, risking his life, always up in the air. The fact that he’s willing to give it all up for you…
Warmth blooms in your chest.
For the first time this night, Jake’s father turns his eyes right on you. They’re ice-cold. As cold as this house.
“Was this your idea?” he asks.
Automatically, you open your mouth to answer, but Jake is quicker.
“No,” he says. “It wasn’t her idea. It was mine. She had nothing to do with it.”
His father exhales a loud, shuddering breath, something that tears through the silence like a bull pawing at the ground.
“No,” he says finally.
“No?” Jake repeats, sounding hesitant.
“No.” Jake’s father places his cutlery delicately by his plate, smooths out the napkin in his lap. “No son of mine will give up a career to play house.”
“I…”
His father bulldozes over the interjection as if it hadn’t happened. “What, you can’t handle the pressure? Tough luck, boy. You gotta grit your teeth and get through it.”
There’s so much wrong with all of it. An emotion you can’t name rises up in your throat, makes your fingers clench into the fabric of the tablecloth.
“I don’t want to,” Jake says, trying to stand his ground. But something’s fading from him as you watch, some light dimming as his shoulders slump and his face falls.
You’ve never seen Jake like this before. All the cool melted out of him, all the bravado gone. Nothing but uncertainty left in its wake.
“You’ve always been weak,” his father says without looking at him. “Crying all the time when you were young, running to your mother. I knew it back then, and I see it now. Too weak for the Navy, too weak for this life, too weak….”
“Stop.” You can’t remember making the decision to speak, but suddenly your voice echoes through the room. Everybody’s looking at you. Your heart is in your throat.
And it’s so dumb. You can barely stand up for yourself. Last week, one of your student’s fathers yelled at you about a bad grade, and you just went home to cry into Jake’s chest for an hour. But this… it’s different. This ignites something in your chest, something violent and significant, something that demands to be felt.
You’d known their relationship was bad, but you hadn’t expected this. Nothing could have prepared you for it.
“You’re wrong,” you say, and wonder how your voice can sound so calm when on the inside you’re shaking, when the anger bubbles up into your throat like bile, when… “He’s not weak. Jake is the strongest person I know.”
Distantly, you’re aware of Jake’s head turning in your direction, but you keep your eyes on his father. Watch the twitch of his mouth, corners curling up into a smile dripping disdain.
“Oh, Jake,” he says, voice mocking as he turns to his son again. “Still need women to fight your battles for you?”
Jake’s mother says nothing, face turned down towards her plate, hands folded primly in her lap. The string of pearls around her neck shifts with every inhale, and for a moment, you ask yourself who’s worse: the one who does the hurting or the one who sits by and does nothing.
“I love him,” you say, and it’s not the first time you’ve said it, but it is the first time you say it in front of somebody else, somewhere outside the privacy of your bedroom, where you can convince yourself nobody exists in the world but him and you. It feels, somehow, significant. “He’s twice the man you’ve ever been.”
The eyes turn on you, so cold it sends a shiver down your back. And you don’t understand how you could have thought, even for a moment, that they looked alike. It’s like comparing a pencil sketch to an oil painting - night and day.
True anger courses through the words, through the voice, as he says, “You think I’m going to sit here and listen to some rude little schoolteacher my son picked up on the roadside try and tell me to….”
Jake’s palm hits the tabletop so forcefully the china jumps an inch into the air, the glasses rattle, and white wine spills into the casserole dish with the green beans.
“Don’t,” Jake hisses through clenched teeth, “ever talk to her like that again.”
Silence spreads.
His father chuckles. “What, you think that’s gonna impress me, boy? I don’t…”
“I don’t care,” Jake says. You can hear it in his voice, in the trembling of his breath - the anxiety, but the anger too. Your eyes burn. “For the first time in my life, I don’t care what impresses you. I just… I’m so tired of it. This is who I am. Either accept it or don’t.”
“Jake…” his mother whispers, but he won’t look at her. She throws a furtive glance at her husband, then at you. You can see the fear there, and you almost feel bad for her.
His father picks his cutlery back up and cuts into his roast.
“Sit back down, boy,” he says, the picture of perfect calm if it weren’t for the quiver in his hands. “Don’t cause a scene.”
You see the exact moment it happens. When the resignation finally sinks in for Jake. The acceptance of this thing he’s denied all his life.
His eyes flicker to you, and there’s something helpless in them. You think you hear the crack as your heart breaks.
And Jake is confident. Knows what he wants. Is so much clearer about it all than you with all your overthinking and spiraling and second and third and fourth guessing. Is so good at acting like he has all the answers that sometimes it makes you forget how good he is at pretending too. How sometimes, he needs you to take over.
So you get up, slot your fingers into the spaces between his, and say, looking only at his mother, “Thank you for dinner. I think it’s time we leave.”
Nobody says anything. Jake’s parents stay where they are, in their perfect, cold house, with their perfect, flavorless food and their lace curtains and grandfather clocks and no pictures of their brilliant, beautiful, warm son.
But you leave. You leave, and you take him with you.
The thought of Jake as a child, alone in this house, with that man in front of his door, almost chokes you.
You’re silent as you get into the car, silent as he pulls away from the curb, silent as the house fades smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. As it disappears from view completely.
You know you’ll never come here again. Something about it all is decidedly and vitally final.
Over the middle console, you watch Jake. It’s dark outside now, but the electronics of the dashboard illuminate him, the headlights of oncoming cars paint ghostly shadows across his features. You can’t read his expression, feel almost incapacitated by your own panic.
You don’t know what to say.
It’s impossible to tell how long you drive, but finally, Jake signals and pulls into an empty Walmart parking lot. Parks the car. Turns off the engine. And then he makes a sound you’ve never heard before.
With a start, with a jolt that zaps through you like a current, you realize he’s crying.
You’ve never seen him cry. Not when a bird strike took down his wingman last year. Not when you made him watch first Philadelphia and then Titanic in the most devastating double feature of all time.
It stumps you. Throws you for a loop. Makes tears well up in your own eyes.
“Oh, Jake,” you say, leaning across the middle console to wrap your arms around him, to press your face into his neck and hold him. Try and keep you both from falling apart.
And it’s so much pain. So much pain he’s carried with him every day, so much of it that you can feel it reverberate along your own bones as if it’s yours. And maybe that’s true. Maybe part of loving someone is feeling their pain as your own. Carrying it not for them but with them. Sharing it.
After what you just saw, you think you understand. Perhaps for the first time. All that cockiness and all that arrogance and all those things you hated about him at first. How they’re all just pieces of armor, something he’s built over the years to protect himself from that father and those expectations he could never meet and that cold, cold, cold.
You hold him until he calms, until the shaking of his sobs subsides, until he draws back and pushes himself into an upright position, says, “I’m sorry for crying.” He pushes a laugh out, but you don’t buy it. Not for a second. “That’s humiliating, huh? Bet you didn’t know you were dating such a pussy….”
“Don’t.” Your voice is firm, and it stops him in his tracks. “Don’t do that, Jake. That’s just him talking. There’s nothing wrong with crying. There’s nothing wrong with anything you did.”
His fingers flex around the steering wheel. He exhales loudly through his nose, and when he speaks again, his voice has gone so quiet you need to lean forward to hear him, “I guess some part of me just always thought… always thought that maybe, someday, he’d love me.”
And that’s it. It shatters you right there. Breaks you apart in a way you can’t explain.
You don’t know what to say. Maybe there is nothing to say. No words to make this better, to make him think the opposite. Not after what you’ve just seen.
“I guess…” His throat moves as he swallows. It’s so dark in this parking lot you can barely see more than the outline of him, shadowed by the darkness, but it’s enough. You know him so well, you could draw his face blind. “I guess that’s it, then. I guess I no longer have a family.”
It’s instantaneous. No, you think. I won’t let him believe that. Not for a second.
“Do you think I don’t have a family?“ you ask him.
Jake’s brows furrow, obviously confused by your question. “What?”
“Because my mom is gone, and my dad doesn’t care, and I don’t have any siblings or aunts or uncles. Do you think I don’t have a family?”
“No,” he says immediately, frowning. “You’ve got me. And you’ve got Penny and Phoenix and….”
“Then why would you ever think that about yourself?”
That shuts him up. He just sits there for a while.
“Jake,” you say, voice more gentle than it’s ever been. “It doesn’t change a thing. Not about the way I feel about you or the man that you are.”
He’s biting his lips, glancing at you from the corner of his eye and then away just as quickly.
“You don’t…” He clears his throat. “You don’t believe what he’s saying? That I’m… weak, or…”
You’re shaking your head before he’s halfway through the question.
“I meant what I said back there,” you reassure, reaching for his hands again. “Jake, you’re the best person I know. You can be an asshole, and a dumbass, and arrogant, and….”
“Aren’t you supposed to be making me feel better?” he interrupts, but there’s amusement in his voice, and relief floods your chest in answer.
You say, “What I mean is… I think you’re remarkable.”
“Remarkable?” he repeats, and you can hear the frown in his voice.
“Remarkable. Because even with someone like him raising you, putting you down all the time, telling you all that bullshit… you still turned out so good. You still turned into the best man I’ve ever known.” You take a deep, deep breath. “The only man I’ve ever really loved.”
And when he turns to look at you, you can see the tears sparkling in his eyes.
You’re climbing over the middle console before you know it, settling into his lap with your arms around his neck and your knees pressing into the seat bis hips. Jake slots clumsy kisses over your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your nose, until he finds your mouth.
He tastes like salt and gravy and home.
“It shouldn’t be like that,” you tell him, drawing back to card your fingers through his hair. “With my mom, it was never like that. She was so warm and kind, and she was so happy to see me, always. Even if I showed up unannounced and drunk at three am. And she just wanted me to be happy, no matter in what capacity. That’s how it should be, Jake, that’s what you deserved. Someone who loves you unconditionally.”
“I do have that,” he whispers, voice husky. “I have you.”
And it’s like this: being with Jake is like drifting on a blow-up mattress through a pool. Being with Jake is like reaching the top of a mountain after hours of hiking. Being with Jake is like the first taste of ice cream on the hottest day of the year. Being with Jake is like the first winter snow, early in the morning when everything is still untouched and quiet. Being with Jake is like listening to the rain from beneath your blankets, warm and safe and cozy.
Being with Jake is everything you’ve ever wanted.
“Yes,” you agree, head spinning, chest tight, “you do. You’ll always have me, Jake. We’re our own family already. And when we have kids, I know you’ll be the most perfect father, and you’ll never, ever treat them the way your dad treated you. You’ll be so kind and so loving and….”
“When we have kids,” he interrupts you.
In his lap, your face inches from his, you freeze.
Suddenly you can’t look at him. Your cheeks feel like they’re burning. “I… I’m sorry, we never talked about this, I just….”
You move to climb off him, but he pulls you closer instead, holds you to him with hands grasping the backs of your thighs.
“Is that what you want?” he asks softly. “You want to have my kids?”
The way he phrases the question almost makes you scoff. But then you think about it for a second, this thing you haven’t even been brave enough to voice in the privacy of your own mind. This thing that perhaps, in your heart of hearts, you’ve always dreamed of.
“Yeah,” you breathe. “I do. I do, Jake.”
And he groans, pushes his face against your cheek, and you can’t see him, but you can feel the tears.
“I’ll give it to you,” Jake whispers. “I'll give you anything you want. A ring and a house with a blue door and a baby. I’ll give you a baby, sweetheart. My girl. My gorgeous, brave, brave girl.”
In the silence of the night, in the warmth of that car, it sounds like a promise.
#hangman fic#hangman x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x reader#top gun maverick#hangman#mine#drabble#f: bh#hangman drabble#f:bhdrabbles
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Found Memories. Chapter 2.
Finding Memories Sequel: (I advise you to read the 1st series for context).
Series Summary: Following the aftermath of Finding Memories, Bucky tries to complete goals he feels she would have discovered for herself as a way to let her memory live on. However, he never expected to find someone very close to who he believed she would have been if given the chance of normalcy. A journey of mourning someone he lost turned into a journey of discovering someone new happens upon the soldier. Maybe this whole normal thing isn’t as bad as he had pictured it in his mind. Maybe he had a better shot at it than he ever tried to imagine.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Teacher) Reader
Word Count: 4700+
Playlist Song: Magdalene by: The 502's
A/N: I know I said I wouldn't post another chapter until I finish writing the entire series, but I checked the follower count for the first time in a while and realized we passed 3000 followers recently!!! So I'm posting this in celebration of the 3155 people that have been kind enough to follow my writing journey and interact with stories that I put a lot of my time and effort into :) I can not explain how thankful I am for each and every one of your support!! XO
Chapter Notes: This chapter is written from the perspective of the reader. Each chapter will (for the most part) switch back and forth from Bucky and Y/N Clark's 1st person. I've read some books recently that did it in this format, and it was fun to read that way and see all points of view ;) Plus, I thought it was only fair that we saw Y/N's perspective from the last chapter, and you can get an idea of the character she will play. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it because this REALLY IS THE LAST chapter I'm posting until the series is complete. As always, please feel free to comment, even if just emojis or a few words. They all mean the world to a writer!!
Chapter 2:
I hadn't planned on going to the compound anytime soon, but Tony Stark had proved to be a sneaky man when it came to getting his way.
When I saw Morgan Stark on my enrollment sheet, my principal made a special visit to my room during the last week of summer when we reported before the kids. I was nervous about the kind of parent relationship that was to come after how serious she made the endeavor.
My principal, who is also one of the reasons I'm not staying at this school for another year, made it a big deal and practically scared me shitless that if anything was not to Mr. Stark's liking when it came to his daughter's education, it was on me to fix or else I'd be screwed.
It was a lot of pressure, considering this was a man who had saved humanity more than once and was likely to continue to rack up that number.
But the pressure was quickly taken away when he showed up to meet the teacher, and he and his wife, Pepper, were nothing short of kind and supportive parents every teacher hopes to work alongside of.
Now was he a little forward and slightly egotistical? Yes. But I was prepared, considering his reputation. Pepper balanced him perfectly and quickly put him in his place if he started getting a little too brash.
And it was quickly shown during any minor and major holiday that they were big-time gift-givers and loved to shower those that worked with them with random treats and thoughtful, yet overpriced, 'appreciations' as they called them.
I remember getting a card during Thanksgiving break that seemed simple and like any other card a parent sends as a thank you, but inside was a gift certificate for a spa day.
And no, not just a mani and pedi or a massage. It was an entire spa day treatment including; mudbaths, facials, full body massage, hot rock therapy, mani-pedi, acupuncture, and a list of other things I had never even heard of or knew as options. They had already paid for and scheduled it for me, and they had handed it to me like a Mcdonald's gift card.
I didn't feel right taking something like that from a parent even if I knew they were billionaires and it was equivalent to a Mcdonald's gift card to them. So I attempted to give it back and handed it back to Happy, who usually picked up Morgan and told him it was a kind offer, but I couldn't accept it.
The next day I had a bouquet of flowers waiting for me in the front office and a card that said;
"Sorry for leaving Tony in charge of your holiday gift. He doesn't realize how intense he gets in that department… But please do treat yourself to a spa day! I changed the package so that you and your sister can enjoy it together, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as the things he added to it. We appreciate all you do for our family. You deserve the pampering!"
It was a sweet gesture, and it felt rude to not take it after they had sent it back to me. I asked my assistant principal about it, who had Tony as a parent for the last 5 years, and she also said to take it. I wasn't used to the private school demographic as much, and she assured me that though it was nicer than what most parents gift, she's seen him gift more outrageous things that Pepper had to fix in the past.
"I had to talk him down from donating a hot air balloon ride for our field day last year. A spa gift certificate is nothing compared to what I've seen that man do…" she had said.
So though it still felt weird, I took advantage of it and took my younger sister to the spa, and we enjoyed the massages, mani-pedi, and facials we were kindly given.
All that to say, I've learned this semester that Tony was an ornery man. He reminded me of my father when it came to how he joked in conversations and how blunt he could be about his thoughts and ideas.
I had thrown something back to him during our first parent-teacher conference by the complete mistake of not filtering my thoughts. And when I thought I was going to get fired, he let out a loud laugh and told Pepper, "Finally, someone who can dish it back and not get butt hurt," he had laughed with a giant grin.
I apologized quickly and rambled about how he has remarks like my dad, and it was just a reflex to say what I countered with, and Pepper laughed too.
"It's ok, Ms. Clark. Tony needs the sass to keep him in line as often as possible."
"Yeah, it gets boring when people walk on eggshells around you. Where's the fun in etiquette?"
That got a quick eye-roll from his wife and a slap to the arm, which he laughed at, and we continued our meeting.
Since then, I have kept a professional demeanor around him, but I also don't hold back when he needs a quick sarcastic remark to put him in his place.
Now his sliding a resume into Morgan's homework folder was also on the list of things I was not expecting. Right next to the custom-made Stark iPad he gifted me for Labor Day. (Which who gives gifts for Labor Day?)
The resume was an offer to be a personal tutor for Morgan once she got to middle school. She was in 5th grade right now, and she was a bright girl. I don't know why he was worried about her having the extra help, but nonetheless, he offered me a job to be her full-time one-on-one tutor for next year.
He was willing to pay me enough that I wouldn't need a second job as a teacher. I would solely be Morgan's tutor, and the benefits and pay would be enough for me to work little hours for a salary that a top surgeon in New York would make.
A part of me struggled with the offer. I knew money-wise it would take care of everything I struggled with; rent, medical bills, helping my sister through college, and the list went on.
I should have jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work under one of the wealthiest and most admired men alive, but my heart could never accept something like that merely because it was such an outrageous opportunity to fall in my lap.
I kept saying in the back of my head that I hadn't joined this career for the money. It was never about the money.
The only reason I took a private school job this last year (which a friend was kind enough to get my foot in the door for) was that money was tight, and I needed the slight boost that public school funding couldn't give me. But I wasn't giving up teaching; I was just moving to a different group of kids to teach. A lot more privileged and supported demographic, but I was still influencing kids' lives.
Though after the last few months, I realized it wasn't a fit for me. As much as I wanted to make it be that and push my morals aside to continue so I could keep paying for things without going into debt, deep down, it wasn't what I signed up for.
I was meant to help the underprivileged and poverty-level kids. I was that kid that grew up with one parent working more than one minimum-wage job to make ends meet and the other being underpaid as a school teacher themselves for most of my life. The educators who aided and encouraged me to be where I am now made me passionate about the same efforts.
With all that to be said, I was moving back to the public school in New York after this year, and Tony had found out.
It wasn't that I didn't care for the kids at this school. I loved them. My group of 5th graders had become 18 of my own personal children. I wanted the world for them and everything in between. The difference was they could have the world and everything in between. They had access to those resources.
The kids I was going back to had lived in a world I knew far better than the one I was in. I wasn't of major aid to my upper-class students as much as I was to the lower class. And at the end of the day, my job wasn't about the money; I continued to remind myself. It was about the next generation getting the support they needed and deserved.
So when I saw that Morgan had left her sweater in the classroom before the break and I had the resume in my hand, I called and asked if I could come to talk with him about it.
I hadn't been to the compound, and the size and security of it all was nerve-racking. The number of guards, levels of clearance, and private entrances I had to go through just to meet him in the lobby was intense.
I couldn't help but marvel at the architect and the sufficiency the place ran on while walking up the steps outside into the building.
People were walking around in grey and neutral-colored attire, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb with my bright red and checkered winter coat. Though I like neutral colors, I was never one to keep strictly to that. It was near impossible for me to pass up an accessory or statement piece that popped with color. Hence why I always got the comment, "Oh, you're an elementary teacher? You definitely have the wardrobe for it."
Thank God I spotted Tony only a few seconds after entering the foyer because there were three different reception desks, which I'm sure went to all kinds of departments of the massive establishment, but I wasn't sure which one to approach.
He approached me with open arms and gave me a hubristic smile as I gave him a keen one in return.
"The homework folder is meant to hold Morgan's work. Not your side hustles," I said with a raised eyebrow as I handed him a new folder with just the resume in it.
"It's work from a Stark; does that not count?" he said back, his grin never leaving.
"Yeah, but the work I'm supposed to review is usually based on story elements and division facts. I don't think Morgan is worried about salary levels and insurance benefits at her age."
"With a work ethic like her mother and a brain like her mother… She'll be managing a place like this in no time," he placed his hands in his pockets, not taking the folder just yet.
I handed off the sweater instead and held onto the folder, knowing I wouldn't be leaving with it either way.
"That I can't argue. But she may want to get her math down before she starts something like that up," I held onto my tote bag with one hand and dropped the other with the folder.
"Which is why I had that in her folder, so math and whatever else she needs help in, she can have you to h-."
He was cut off when a tall, dark-skinned man approached abruptly. I recognized him as one of the Avengers but didn't want to seem shocked or freaked out, considering I was in their home, basically.
"Hi," he said.
Running to his side was a second Avenger I somewhat recognized, but he seemed more hesitant and nervous compared to the man with a sweet gap-toothed smile in front of me.
Tony's light and teasing mood seemed to disappear with his interruption, and he took a breath before saying, "I told you I would help you after I talked with-." He was cut off as the man patted him on the arm and went to introduce himself.
"Sam Wilson," he smiled kindly, offering his hand, which I smiled back and took.
"Y/N Clark. Nice to meet you."
Sam seemed to give his friend a silent look that communicated something else, and the blue-eyed man extended his hand as well.
"James Barnes," he gave a tight-lipped smile like he was being forced to converse, but I returned a firm handshake and responded.
"Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you."
I realized then I had seen this man earlier today at the coffee shop I stopped at before my errand here. I didn't have my head on straight at the time cause my sister had called saying that the repair man who was supposed to fix our balcony door had once again canceled and rescheduled. This was the fourth time now, and it felt like our apartment was crumbling beneath us with the 20 other things my landlord had kept pushing off.
I thought I saw him staring then too, but like most strangers, I see in public, I just gave a brief smile and moved on with my day. Though in New York, I'm still learning that isn't a regular thing here. Many native New Yorkers could go the whole day not making eye contact with a single soul on the overpopulated streets.
I brushed past the fact he was studying me like I was him, as if we were both looking for an answer to a question we didn't even know.
Tony turned all of our attention back to him as he introduced me to them briefly and promptly gave them death glares. Clearly, they were waiting on something from him, and he wasn't showing patience for what I assume were usual antics between the two with how they talked to each other.
"Cyborge and Birdman, this is Ms. Clark. She's Morgan's teacher. Ms. Clark, these are two of my most impatient co-workers. Who I asked to give me a second before I talked with them…"
"Thank this one for the interruption," James said while childishly shoving his friend to the point he teetered on his feet.
"Just seemed rude to not introduce your colleagues," Sam gritted.
"It's fine," I spoke up, attempting to break some of the tension building. And instantly, Mr. Barnes's eyes were back on me like they had been in the coffee shop. But I acted like I didn't notice and turned to Mr. Stark. "I was here to just drop off these two things anyway."
I handed the folder off successfully this time since his attention was turned to the other two, and he took it while staring at them still.
"Yeah, well, I had a few things I wanted to discuss without… This interruption." If looks could kill, his co-workers would be in a casket 6 feet under right where they stood.
"I appreciate what you're offering, but I've already told you I have a job set with another district after this year."
James Barnes was grinning like a child who just got revenge, but why, I wasn't sure.
"Yeah, but… Money." Tony said the last word like it was a magic word that would make me reconsider everything instantly and fold.
"Money is great and all, but it's not what this is about, Mr. Stark." I couldn't help but laugh even if deep down I knew the risk I was taking not accepting his proposal. I went to readjust my tote on my shoulder as a nervous tic. "Maybe after winter break and I get some paperwork back from the new school I'll be at, we will better understand what I'll have on my plate."
"That sounds like a well-worded way to put this conversation off," Tony smirked.
He wasn't wrong. I had worded it specifically as a way to keep it on the table for him knowing he'd never relent, but also to be able to walk away from the conversation and not get convinced out of my already made-up mind.
"It's Christmas break, Mr. Stark. Have a great vacation with your family, and happy holidays," I nodded, starting to turn out to walk, but before I was completely turned back, I looked at the other two men. "You two as well. I hope the world is kind enough to give you all a break as you deserve during this time."
It was true. Crime and bad guys never ended, from what the news showed, and I couldn't imagine what big holidays looked like around here.
"If I know anything about teaching, I know you'll need a break just as much," Sam shouted towards me after I was a few feet away, making me laugh.
"Happy Holidays," I said a final time before moving for the exit, thankful that the two men were there to distract Tony from trying to convince me to join his payroll.
___________________________
"Oh sweet loving sister of mine, I'm home," I shouted in a sing-song voice but was abruptly cut off when I shut the door, and she stood on the other side like a damn statue. "Mother Fu-! Hallie!" I shouted after a scream let out of me first. "Why the hell are you acting like a Victorian ghost-child and standing there like that?"
"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" she said, quickly bypassing how she made my heart practically stop beating for 5 seconds too long.
"I told you I was going to run errands," I answered vaguely, already knowing where she was going with this but not wanting to give her the advantage.
"Yeah, errands don't normally involve going to the Avenger's Compound!" she shouted with her arms up as she watched me walk into the kitchen and follow me.
"Jesus, lower your voice. We have neighbors," I grumbled, throwing my bag on the hooks on the wall and taking my coat off as well.
"Answers, please," she crossed her arms like a mother who had just caught her daughter sneaking out to a party.
"I had to drop off something that Morgan left at the school. I figured she'd want her coat for winter break," I answered honestly, just leaving out a few other details.
"Like she wouldn't have a whole room for winter coats alone. Why did you really go?" Hallie continued to interrogate.
I looked at her, and she was unwavering. I let out a huff of air, going to the fridge to grab a Dr. Pepper and the sweet cream to make my favorite drink after an eventful day.
"I'm not lying when I said I went to drop that off," I said, pouring the soda into a glass and waiting for the foaming bubbles to go down. "And you know exactly why I didn't tell you I was going there."
"You act like I'd go insane if I stepped a single foot on that estate," she groaned, pulling a stool out at our island/ kitchen table in the tiny New York City apartment we shared. "Even if Captain Roger's has walked on those tiles and maybe breathed in the same air and all…"
"Here we go…" I mumbled, shaking the creamer bottle as I waited for what I knew was to come.
"And so what if Natasha Romanoff has probably sat in the chairs or road the elevator that leads to what I assume are suites and apartments they have to themselves on the top levels?" she paused for effect as if waiting for me to confirm or deny as if I would know. But I just stared at her, and she continued without hesitation. "It's no big deal that Sam Wilson has probably flown the EX0-7 Falcon wingsuit in the field that surrounds the compound. Or maybe even hearing Steve playing an old jazz record. I know that cause there was a girl who used to live on his street when he stayed in the city, and she said there were a few nights that he would play all kinds of old songs with beautiful trumpet solos. Oh, and!"
I absentmindedly poured the practiced amount of sweet cream into the Dr. Pepper, grabbed a straw to stir it, and took sips of it as I patiently waited for her to finish her fantasies.
She went on about Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, and any other Avenger that came to mind until she noticed me stop sipping my drink and start to slow-blink at her.
"Stop. I know that look," she pointed, stopping in her rant abruptly.
"What the you-just proved-my-point look?" I fluttered my eyelashes at her and took another sip.
"Shut up," she sneered, even though she knew I was right.
As if he had just realized people were home, her small senior brown-haired and deaf dog came hobbling around the corner and yipped when he looked at me.
"Hey, Chuck Norris," I sighed, and he came up to me, barking at my leg like I was an intruder in my own home. "I still don't think he's used to me."
"You say that like you didn't live with him for 10 years," Hallie laughed, walking over and picking him up with one hand and cradling him in her arm.
"Three of those years were just visits back home. I figured after a month of you being moved in here, his memory would catch up to realize I'm still the same person when we first rescued him."
Chuck Norris was a tiny little mutt my sister had found behind a dumpster in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel close to where we lived when we were younger.
The vet had said he was already about four or five when we brought him in, but he had no microchips or anything showing he belonged to someone. He was also malnourished from only eating scraps that fell out of the dumpster since he wasn't big enough to scrounge through it himself. So he came with a laundry list of things he needed fixing with his tiny weak body.
We only ever had one cat growing up, so it was a responsibility my parents weren't too sure about taking on. But my sister being who she is, made a presentation the next night and was able to persuade them to let her keep him for at least a month to show she could handle it.
After a month, they saw how special of a dog he was to her and how she was practically the only one he trusted, and they couldn't just send him to the pound after that.
The laundry list of illnesses and help he was going to need to get him back on his feet led to a lot of medical bills in his future. But luckily, an old friend of mine I had gone to high school with went into Veterinary school and helped my family out a few times since we were still close.
Now Chuck Norris lived here, and he didn't care that I, even if I was paying most of the bills, lived here along with him. He only trusted one person wholeheartedly in his life, and that was my sister.
Now being 14, possibly 15 years old, his eyes weren't great, and he was almost a hundred percent deaf besides sharp noises he happened to hear every once in a while. I'm almost positive he had some form of dementia, too, cause he treated me like a stranger most of the time.
He must have been sleeping when I came in cause a lot of times, if he sees my walk in, he's at my feet barking and acting like he's going to be the one to bring an end to the big monster that teases and picks at his mom.
As for the name… Don't ask. My sister's an anomaly, and that's the only answer I have to give for that.
"Back to the question at hand," my sister continued, and I groaned overdramatically before walking to the couch with my drink and turning the TV on. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to see the Tony Stark?!"
"First off, I think you answered that question when you went on your little tangent of extremely specific details. You've for sure daydreamed about the Avengers, you nerd," I started, looking up at her where she stood by the coffee table with the glossy-eyed brown mutt in her hand, who I couldn't tell was looking at me or the window that was behind me. "And second, who's to say I even saw Mr. Stark? I was just dropping off a sweater, and I could have very well just left it at reception and carried on with my day."
"It's the fact you're saying it all as a 'could have' scenario instead of just saying you did," she deadpanned.
She had me there, and that one was on me.
"It's not like it's the first time I've ever met him. He is the parent of one of my students, so it's not a big deal to me anymore," I brushed it off and looked to the TV, and started mindlessly scrolling through the evening shows.
She immediately cut off my view by standing right in front of it.
"Move," I said, peeking my head around her body, which she quickly blocked again.
"Once, I'm asking once, that I get to meet him," she bargained.
"Eventually. Just not before the break. We're all tired and have been busy, him, I'm sure more than anyone, and I don't think the compound is where he wants to worry about crazy obsessed fans bombarding him," I looked at her with a big-sister stare. "Now, the whole thing is already over and done. Can I please just drink this and watch an episode of this documentary I've been waiting to decompress to all day?"
As if I was asking too much and the universe needed to humble me, the coat rack I had hung my coat and tote bag earlier fell to the floor with a harsh crash.
I didn't even look in the direction of the latest home improvement added to the list, but instead closed my eyes and sat up some.
"Classic," I mumbled and started to move to the closet we kept our toolbag in, but before I could stand up, Hallie stopped me.
"Don't. I bargained with the building repair man to come tomorrow instead of making us wait another week," she said, looking back at the damage. "He can do that as an extra fix for being an ass."
"How'd you manage that?"
I looked at her, impressed, considering the guy was a nuisance and very much a man's man. In other words, "How could two girls on their own ever manage without a big strong man to come and save them when things fell apart?" I think he got off on being able to make us wait for him when it came to things we couldn't actually fix. Talk about a savior complex.
"I said I had to bake some cookies for one of my classes and said I would bake some extra if he came sooner," she shrugged.
"You're a musical theater major. What class is having you bake cookies?" I gave her a weird look.
"None. I just didn't want him to think I was baking them just for him," she said with a witty smile.
"Attagirl," I chuckled, patting the couch next to me. "Just for that, I'll let you pick which documentary we binge tonight."
"Why is it always with the documentaries?" she huffed, sitting next to me despite acting like she was upset with the option.
"Don't lie and act like you don't get sucked in." I stood up and put the now half-empty drink down. "I'm going to change, but look through the ones we've already started and pick from those."
"Does Unsolved Supernatural with Shane and Ryan count?" I heard her shout as I turned into my room.
Normally the answer was no, but I could go for something fun and not so serious.
"Sure, but pick a good episode!" I shouted back. "Let Christmas break commence…"
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hello/goodbye hugs that linger for javey 💙
Number 18 comin right up!
edit: oops, this got away from me because I don't know the definition of concise apparently
******
"It's just another three weeks, and then I'm home for the entire summer," Davey assures.
"It's too long," Jack whines. "I hate Yale. I hate stupid Boston and their stupid red-sox and their stupid Ivy League schools that have ya away for nine months of the year."
As much as Davey wants to pretend that Jack being all sorts of clingy is a major inconvenience, he can't dismiss the fact that he loves the way Jack always refuses to release them from their final hugs before Davey heads back to school.
It's become a tradition of sorts. They hug goodbye, and Davey makes some comment about being late for his train, and Jack tightens his grip while Davey rolls his eyes and lets his arms go limp at his side.
There's something different this time around, though, and Davey can't quite put his finger on it. The soft, ragged breath Jack takes when he buries his face into the crook of Davey's neck. The way his smile isn't entirely reaching his eyes.
"Hey," Davey's hands settle on Jack's shoulders as he puts enough space between them to get a good look at his best friend. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Jack mutters. Davey can tell by the dimness of his eyes that he's lying. " 'm'fine."
"You don't seem fine."
"I guess," Jack sighs, "In the past year, with you bein' gone and all... I didn't realize how much I was gonna miss ya. I didn't realize a lot of things."
Before Davey can even open his mouth to reply, he's being hauled in again for another bone-crushing hug. Davey's arms dangle by his side in shock as Jack's come up behind his back, gripping the back of Davey's shirt with such force.
Davey blinks himself out of his stupor and slowly brings his arms to clasp around Jack's waist.
"I love you, Dave."
"Love you, too, Jackie."
Davey's on the train, his mind running through their last encounter the way a needle runs over vinyl, when his phone buzzes.
Jackie: i need to tell you something.
Jackie: shoulda said it before you left
Jackie: i mean, i said it, but i didn't really SAY it ykwim??
Jackie: fuck. i hope you don't have signal rn and we can just wait til u get back for summer
Me: Bad news
Me: I have signal
Jackie: well shit
Me: You were saying?
The three dots indicating someone on the other side is texting pop up. They disappear for a moment and return, sending anxiety that rises like the tide shooting through Davey's veins. This is where Jack admits what's been bothering him. This is where Jack says they've grown apart, that keeping up with Davey when he's so far away isn't worth the effort, that their friendship of nearly six years isn't worth the effo--
Jackie: I love you.
Davey squints at the screen.
All that fuss for Jack to tell Davey something he already knows?
Me: That's nice, Jackie. I love you, too!
Jackie: ffs
Jackie: you go to an ivy league school
Jackie: ain't no way ur really this dense
Me: ??? uncalled for??
Jackie: Dave.
Jackie: I'm IN LOVE with you.
Oh. Well. Davey certainly wasn't expecting that.
Jackie: and i feel stupid sayin that over a damn text message but i was too scared to say it earlier and i feel like it'll eat me alive if i don't say anything
Jackie: if you don't feel the same i TOTALLY understand btw
Jackie: we can also just. pretend this never happened when you come back and it'll be just like old times
He blinks dumbly at the phone, heart hammering in his chest as more frantic messages come in.
Jackie: OR you could continue to ignore me
Jackie: you have your read receipts on, you know that?
Jackie: oh my god i'm gonna block you.
Jackie: hi hey hello, davey jacobs? jack kelly here, your best friend who just confessed his love for you? yeah it'd be great if you could SAY SOMETHING
Me: That certainly was a sentence.
Jackie: I hate you.
Me: Pretty sure you love me. Source: you.
Jackie: no fr how am *i* the one who gets a rep for being annoying?
Jackie: really though. are we gonna talk about this?
Me: Look who's being dense now.
Jackie: DAVE
Davey laughs at his screen and decides to put Jack out of his misery, chest feeling like it's exploding into a million stars.
Me: JACK
Me: Good news.
Me: I love you, too.
Jackie: see, was that so hard?
Jackie: holy shit, so...
Jackie: we're like. properly in love huh?
Jackie: whaddya wanna do about that?
Me: We could call when I get back to my dorm? Have a real conversation about it?
Me: And maybe talk about it when I get home in May?
Jackie: yeah. i like the sound of both those things
When Davey comes home for summer break, Jack runs to him as soon as he steps off the train, arms so tight around his torso and heart so full that Davey can't imagine either of them ever letting go.
#newsies#javey#javid#jack kelly#david jacobs#asks#ask#anotherdaveyjacobs#thanks for this!#i usually try to post something on the anniversary of me being evicted from my mother's womb#but i didn't have anything ready yesterday so uh#here i'm gonna pretend i posted this yesterday#wow look at me im writing!
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I really need a mental health break from social media, sorry.
I just can't recover from what happened this summer. Like.. sure, Percy-nal Offence finally slipping and sending their harassment mail off anon let me sigh with relief at last, but not only it was a bit too late to heal the damage from being stalked and harassed that much, but also it was soured by a person that backstabbed me and my friends earlier (I just call her A here) coming to me right after, to lie that she never doubted that anon was them (when she literally chose to throw me away all because she defended Percy and I blew up over it) and worse yet, victim blame me for being angry at her betrayal. Could not be happy that the truth finally came up when I had to hear "well yeah I threw you to the wolves but you are really mean still being salty about it :/". ...and, then, in August, someone else betrayed me, with empty promises. Yes, the guy that crawled to me begging to live together and claiming his life was nothing without me, but then changed his opinion 10 days later and ditched me like dead weight that "wasted his time", although I've been there for him through his worst and lowest and tolerated his BPD abuse, when his current friends that are oh so much better than me are only there for him when he is stable and happy.
Normally I am able to cope and distract myself and just.. bear with it. Like A is pretty much thriving and very active on Tumblr, so most of the time I have to see her somewhat and it is fine, but recently something seriously opened the wound again. And with the guy, TOO many things remind me of him, and yesterday something reminded me of his broken promise again and I just.. I just can't. I broke into a sobbing, helpless mess completely.
The problem is, my mom left in another town (really has to do some stuff there). For like, a week... I am feeling at my lowest, and for at least a week there won't be anyone to control me if I want to do something bad. I don't have any help right now. I have no more irl friends left since everyone left the city/country and the last one ditched me when she found a boyfriend. I can't seek a therapist in my sorry financial state, I can't count on my online friends since our timezones are very different and they're either too busy with work/school or have their own problems to deal with. Like... I am scared. I am very unstable and no one will help me for at least one week. The only choice I have left is to remove myself from everything that could remind me of either of those two people, or otherwise destabilize me.. And that means avoiding first of all, this fandom, especially on Tumblr, until mom is back or better yet, until I am stable again
Just, don't worry about me, okay? I've done urgent removal of myself from social media before, and it often helps to stabilize emotionally. It is just all a very, very bad timing, and I am constantly exposed to things that provoke bad memories and make me spiral, and there is no way to do anything but to let the time make me not care anymore. But I can't ALWAYS be strong and distracted with memes and fun things that make me happy. I've just cracked, but I can't afford trusting myself with social media at this time. I'll come back later, okay? Okay
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Hi sorry if this is invasive at all but I know you said you have lupus are the symptoms manageable? How do you feel on a day to day basis? My sister got diagnosed with it recently and she’s really scared because it’s obviously not been fun and she’s only 15 so she’s scared that shes always gonna feel like shit forever. I wanna comfort her and say that she won’t but i don’t actually know so maybe asking someone who does would be a better course of action 😅
i don't mind! i was really scared when i was diagnosed, too (i was like 21) and my symptoms are very manageable now, knock on wood. i was diagnosed when i want to my gp because i had really painful stiff joints (esp my fingers and knees.) i got referred to a rheumatologist, who put on 200mg of hydroxychloroquine (aka plaquenil) and that's what i've stayed at ever since. i don't need infusions or further meds so far. i see my rheum 1-2x a year to run bloodwork and discuss my symptoms and the medication is managing it pretty perfectly.
i live a normal life, except on occasion i'll get a flare, and be in a lot of pain. for example, i had a bad flare last summer, where i couldn't use my fingers or knees normally: i could barely walk, and i couldn't, for example, use a pencil or clasp a necklace with my fingers. i have a prednisone prescription that i can fill when i need to manage bad flares, which i believe are triggered by sun and stress. i don't have any other physical symptoms, no rashes. i was losing hair last year and that might have been related, but my bloodwork came back fine at that time, so it's unclear.
my rheum told me i was in remission 2 years ago, and i stopped taking my meds against his advice. it came back and worse. so my main piece of advice is listen to your rheumatologist!
sending your sister love and luck!
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Both of them|part 2
He goes straight over to belly, walking so smoothly you’d think he was a model.
“I liked you better with glasses”he says with the smirk visible through his tone.
“Well I like me better without”belly says with a slight uncertainty in her voice. I hit her arm so she looks at me, and I shake my head. She knows what I’m talking about. As much as I went through a hard time last year, when bels got rid of her glasses it was really hard for her too. All of a sudden people started making fun of her and it was really bad, there was a lot of times I was suspended last year due to the threats and fights I was in with the bullies.
She looks at me for a little bit before we hear Steven tell jere something.
“I think it’s time for the belly flop!” Uh oh and she’s running but she got caught by Conrad. The smile on their faces say it all he doesn’t care about what happened last summer, why would he it was stupid for me to think he would. That story for another time.
“Ow guys I hurt my ankle” belly whines. I push my way through the boys to get to belly, when I see a glint in her eyes that apparently only I can see because when I start to get closer she does a slight eye raise, our secret little message, and I back off and let Conrad help her. But as he reaches his hand to her she yanks him down sending him flying into the water with her…
After the fit of laughter I grabbed belly a towel and we made our way inside sitting at the island in-front of mom and Susannah.
“Ah look at your girls Laurel, they’re beautiful.” Susannah gawks at us.
“I know, that’s what scares me.” Mom says with a hint of sadness in her voice. I don’t really know where it’s coming from but I’ll take it. I don’t think she’s been emotional since I let her come shopping with me.
We sit and talk till I start to get bored and excuse my self from the conversation and walk into the living room hopping to have some peace, only to fine the boys sitting there on the couch playing their stupid video games.
“Live y/n you’re blocking the screen.” Steven says with attitude in his voice. I just roll my eyes and keep walking.
I’m running out of ideas but want to continue this, help me?
#conrad fisher x you#conrad fisher x y/n#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp belly#tsitp x you#jeremiah fisher
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Whumpuary 2024 day 1
It's my birthday except my family got sick so we can't have a party so I'm just writing my silly stories instead. I thought doing a little ramble per prompt would be fun so here we go :D
ft. me trying to be good at voice lmao
Captivity- (Summer of Hell; Megan) (TW: war, abuse, self hatred, torture)
Megan still remembered what the idiot at the front desk said.
“We could get somebody else, but we want someone like you.”
How fucking stupid he was for believing that. They prayed on his fear of being useless and his need for someone to boss him around again. They dragged him off in an unmarked scuttletruck under the guise of giving him a true purpose in life. How generous, throwing him into the trenches of Vekland. Armed with nothing but hempen rope and an ability to beg for his life, he was admitted into the now-called Miracle Squad, team 107 of the Vekland Redcoats. After a while, he felt like he was worth something again, like he had a real family. What a fucking lie.
Now he was bound in the same rope they supplied him with, watching as his captor paced back and forth. He was trapped in such a way to prohibit any kind of movement, a bent, painful kneel with his head hung down and his teeth biting down on the rope they gagged him with. It was humiliating. He couldn’t even shout curses at his enemy, let alone sit comfortably. His gaze was fixed on the person in front of him, craning his neck as much as he could to be able to meet their eyes.
As their captor paced back and forth, they were debating something. They were clearly nervous, fidgeting with their gloved hands.
Snow- (Ahead In Time; Lance) (TW: attempted suicide (kinda??) freezing to death)
Cold. Why wasn’t it cold?
Lance’s eyelids startled open, and with a sharp gasp, he launched to stand upright. The energy didn’t really get him anywhere, just barely moving the ridiculously heavy and ornate blankets on top of him.
Where was he?
Last thing Lance remembered was, after passing a signpost miles back, finally lying down to rest in the burning snow. He had given up. He remembered letting his numb knees buckle from under him, sending him face down into at least 5 feet of hard snow. So how was he lying in a giant bed complete with matching canopy and golden embroidery?
Was he dead? Was this heaven? Why was it so warm?
It was scary how comfortable he was. It felt like he had been drugged, with how much he wanted to fall asleep again. He pushed the blankets off of him, struggling for a second against their hug and almost panicking because he couldn't get them off. He stared in awe for a second at the space around him. The windows caught his eye, particularly what was outside of them. Snow. Mounds and mounds of snow, completed with a steady stream of it from the sky.
“No fucking way,” he muttered. So it was real? He really ended up here? In a beautifully clean, elaborate, luxurious and warm bedroom? “No fucking way.”
Secret Revealed- (Unnamed Security Breach BAT AU; E.X.E., Charlie, mentioned Will, Henry, Endo and Vanessa) (TW: mentioned murder (out of self-defense), torture, blades (knife), mentioned noncon drugging, mentioned noncon body modification)
What kind of confession was that?
“You. You killed a guy.” E.X.E. stammered.
Charlie’s head was bowed, out of shame. Probably didn’t help that her neck was also chained to the floor. “I killed William Vincent Afton in Hurricane Fashion Mal–”
“Dude, I didn’t mean ‘tell me all the details’, sheesh. I meant that your secret fucking sucks, bro. I was hoping for something actually interesting, like that you have a crush on one of the animatronics or something hilarious like that. How am I supposed to manipulate that without feeling like a total prick? God.”
Charlie looked up. “Are you serious? You literally drugged me, hauled me here, chained me up and asked me violating questions just to get scared off by my sob story? You’re a horrible bad guy.”
“Hey, no, I’m a great bad guy, I’m just not that much of a dick. I’m just waiting for Vanessa to get back here so we can tear open your hide. This would be so much easier with Endo, he’s so good at coming up with supervillain stuff. I mean, it makes sense that he’d be good at absolutely everything cuz’ he’s like, ‘the ultimate robot’ and all. Anyways, like, what’s your favorite pizza?”
“You’re just making shit up now. This isn’t intimidating in the slightest.” Charlie scoffed. “You might as well just be offering me tea and crackers.”
“Shut up. I can be mean. I can be evil. What if I made fun of your outfit, huh? How would that make you feel?” E.X.E. squatted in front of their prisoner, trying to scare her once more.
“If your ‘friends’ are as dumb as this then there’s no way you’re gonna get anything done. Why do you even want me, anyways?”
“Cuz’ you’ve got the parts I need to fix my evil robot friend who’s gonna take over the world and give me fair pay! God, why do you have to be so much of a downer?”
“So you’re gonna turn me into scrap metal? Really? Aren’t I a historical artifact or whatever to you assholes?”
“Nope!” E.X.E. jumped back up again, grabbing their knife to fidget with. “Corporate doesn’t know shit about Old Man Emily’s robots, and I’ve got more pressing things to worry about like paying my grocery bills than about destroying a stupid old animatronic. Like, so what if you're so life-like even you didn’t even know you weren’t real? Pass! We’ve got a chicken who eats garbage instead, which is, like, so much better. Anyways, which finger would you rather lose?”
Charlie paused. “What? Why–”
“If you don’t answer, I’ll just choose one at random. I’m kinda getting bored of chit-chat, so I thought I’d do something fun instead.” E.X.E. spun their knife around, expertly avoiding any of their own fingers.
Charlie felt sick to her stomach again. Her mind slowed, filling with panic.
“Ugh, you’re taking too long,” E.X.E. knelt down to grab one of Charlie’s paws. “How ‘bout your thumb? That’d be fucked up.”
#oc#i write sometimes#aheadintimeafterpower#whump#whump writing#whumpuary#torture#freezing#snow#secret revealed#captivity#war#whumpblr#horror#DND oc#d&d oc#dungeons and dragons#FNAF oc#five nights at freddy's#five nights at freddys#FNAF tse#fnaf charlie#ahit#ahit oc#a hat in time au#FNAF au#furry#cat#grung#ahit snatcher
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