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cumikering · 2 months

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Neighbour Ghost x reader

2.6k | fluff, mentions of physical abuse If Simon still had his family (part 2)

Simon Riley just got back to the safe house when he saw it.

Tommy Riley, 2 hours ago, 5 missed calls

It’s mum. Call back.

His heart thumped as the phone rang. “Mum?” he said as soon as the line connected. ”Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“Oh, Simon…” her voice cracked.

His dad had always been an alcoholic ever since he could remember. He and his younger brother Tommy grew up witnessing his antics: stumbling through the door with slurred shouts in the wee hours of the night, often breaking things in the house, taunting them with the exotic animals he brought on occasions, if he even came home at all.

Mrs. Riley turned the other cheek, making excuses for him. As a child, Simon believed her, that people were short sometimes. Because daddy was tired at work, because mummy didn’t cook dinner right, or forgot to buy his favourite beer… Until he grew up and saw the behaviour as what it was.

But she never left, reassuring him his dad would never lay a hand on her. Simon didn’t trust that bastard of a man, but it was her choice to stay and he could only respect that. It was not his decision to make.

At least if he couldn’t bring her the happiness she deserved, he had to do something to distract himself from the hell at home and divert his aggression. That, and he wanted to help make the world a better place. When he left for the military, he firmly warned Tommy to take care of mum and to be there for her if anything was to happen.

Still, Simon spent his adult life painstakingly watching, waiting for the man’s first misstep so he could eliminate that cancer out of everyone’s life once and for all. The day was finally here. His dad had chased his mum about the house with a knife.

“I- I’ve got nothing but the clothes on my back. I walked barefoot to Tommy’s,” she said between sobs.

“How long has this-“ He stopped himself. It was not the time. He took a deep breath, his hand in a fist, knuckles white. “You’re catching the next train to Hereford,” he growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll stay at my flat until I’m back and we’ll figure things out. Someone from the base will call and help you out.”

“I don’t want to be a bother, Si. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re never a bother,” he said sternly. “I only go back home on the weekends, just stay there. I need you to be safe, mum. Please.”

In Hereford, on a chilly Tuesday night as you made your way down the hall to your flat, there stood a lady fumbling with the key to her own. On the floor laid bags overflowing with fresh produce. She turned as your footsteps approached.

“Hiya, sweetheart. Terribly sorry, but could you give me a hand please? I can’t seem to get the door.” She was middle aged, greying short hair, soft spoken with a Manchester accent.

“’Course.” You smiled at her as she moved aside. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” The key only turned halfway before stopping.

“I just got here some days ago.”

You grunted before turning it all the way. “There you go.” You pushed the door open.

“Oh, you’re an angel, luv.“ She thrusted a bag of apples towards you. “It’s not much, but here. Please have these as a thanks.”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. It’s nothing really.”

“Please, I insist.” She put her hand on yours. “And it’s Melanie.”

You smiled. “Welcome to the building, Melanie. I’m at the end of the hall if you need me.”

You spent Saturday morning baking, courtesy of Melanie’s delicious gift. Even that you devoured the apples throughout the days, you didn’t want to risk the rest going bad on you – you could only eat so much. As you let the pie cool, you cleaned up before making your way to her flat.

It didn’t take long for the door to open. Your smile fell as you blinked at the man staring down at you. His stature huge, almost filling the doorframe as he stood unmoving.

You cowered, eyes darting away. “Hi, uh, is Melanie in?”

“Melanie?” he repeated, voice gruff and cautious. He leaned his forearm against the frame, appearing even more intimidating than the situation needed him to be. “What does this concern?”

You took a step back. “Just… wanted to give this to her.” You held out the pie towards him.

“Who is it, Si?” a woman from behind him called.

The man stepped aside to reveal the much shorter Melanie.

Her face lit up. “Oh, hello, luv. What a surprise!”

“Thanks for the apples, Melanie. I made you this.” You trudged the pan towards her, shifting your weight.

“Come in, come in. This is my son, Simon.” She turned to the man, patting his arm. “She’s the bird who helped me with the door the other day.”

Still with the sharp stare, he gave you a curt nod before you followed Melanie in, placing the pie on the dining table.

“Lunch is almost ready. Would you care to stay, luv?” She made her way towards the stove and muttered, “I always cook too much.”

You smiled. “I’d love to, sure. It smells lovely.”

You helped set up the table as she finished up the soup and brought it out. Simon got himself a helping and sat across you with Melanie beside the both of you. The blond was a few years older than you, jaw lined with a light stubble, but those brown eyes. They were icy, calculating as he glared at you.

Even that the soup was tasty, you regretted saying yes to it as you ate under his scrutiny. Instead, you averted your gaze to take in the flat. The layout was similar to yours, but quality pieces furnished it instead. The large, dark couch in the corner of the living room looked particularly comfortable, behind it a tall shelf lined with books. It was sparsely decorated, and too tidy to be recently moved into without boxes about.

“Do you know if they’ve got a farmer’s market nearby, luv?”

“I don’t, sorry. I get by going to Tesco.” You gave her a soft laugh. “But I can help you ask around.”

She beamed. “That’d be very nice.”

“I do know a bakery a few blocks away with wonderful loaves though. I always buy there.”

While the both of you chatted about the area, Simon was wordless. In fact, he almost didn’t make a noise at all, but at least he’d stopped staring which allowed you to finally relax your back you didn’t realise had been tense. You thanked her again for lunch, and she promised to return the pie pan as soon as she could.

Later that evening, the knock on the door took you away from your laptop. You expected Melanie, but were instead greeted by Simon. Standing a respectable distance from the doorway, he didn’t look like he was trying to scare you this time even that his gaze was as stony.

“Thanks for the pie. Was mint.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his flat tone, taking the pan from him. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He grunted, averting his gaze. “I wanted to thank you, for how nice you’ve been to my mum.” He looked back up at you. “She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”

Your shoulders relaxed. “I understand. It’s not always easy going somewhere new.”

“If you ever need anything, feel free to drop by.” He gave you a half smile before turning away.

The blond Mancunian was the last person you expected at your door on Wednesday night. You’d just taken your coat off as you arrived back from work.

“I got greedy and bought too much takeaway. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You laughed. “Really? Too much food?”

“I’m not fond of leftovers.” He shrugged, inadvertently emphasising his size.

“Well, I haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Mon’ then.” He tiled his head towards his flat, his hands now shoved in the pockets of his black hoodie.

“Glad you could join us, luv.” Melanie smiled as she set the table.

“Hard to resist takeaway.” You chuckled as you approached. Takeaway boxes almost covered the entirety of the table. “Wow, this is a whole spread.”

“I said the same thing!”

“What can I say, I’m a hungry man,” he said gruffly behind you.

You turned to him in amusement. He gave you a shrug, but this time his eyes didn’t look as hard. In fact, you thought you saw a whisper of a smile on his lips.

Later that Saturday as you lounged around on the couch, you looked up from your book at the knock on the door. It was once again Simon in his hoodie, his posture impressive as always.

“My mum told me to run to the shops because we’re out of salt. Any chance you’ve got some to spare so I don’t have to?”

“Salt? Of course.” You headed to the kitchen, leaving the door open.

His fingertips brushed against yours as you handed him the ceramic container.

“She’s cooking pasta. Fancy some?” He tilted his head towards his flat.

“I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow.

You gave him an amused smile. “I’m starting to feel like a freeloader.”

“It’s the least we can offer in return of the salt.”

“It’s just salt.”

“We wouldn’t be eating without your salt, if I’m honest.”

The smile remained as you shook your head.

“Come, she’s waiting.”

At the stove, Melanie thanked you for the ‘life-saving’ salt when you should be the one thanking her for her hospitality. By now, you knew where the tableware was and started setting the table, but this time Simon trailed, grabbing glasses and closing the cabinet doors after you.

“It’s brilliant, really,” you said after the first bite of the tomato pasta. “You’re feeding me too well.”

She smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m not a culinary prodigy at all, but please let me return the favour and make the meal next time.”

“Don’t wor-“

“When?” Simon piped up.

“Next weekend sounds good?”

“Can’t do.”

You hummed. “Well, I won’t have enough time to cook anything fancy on weekdays.”

Melanie swatted her hand. “Oh, you really don’t have to, luv.”

“But there’s still tomorrow. How does lunch sound? I’ll do the shopping today.”

“I’ll drive. Need to pick up a few things too.”

You smiled at him and turned to Melanie. “You want to come with?”

She shook her head. “You kids have fun.”

Simon cleaned up while you got ready before leaving in his SUV. In the sun, his eyes were gorgeous glimmers of deep caramel framed by long, blond lashes. He’d pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms – the left one inked.

It flexed as his hand rested atop the steering wheel at the red light. You could see the details from here – skulls and rifles over fire adorned his pale skin. You wondered how far up the monochrome sleeve extended.

He still hadn’t said anything since he picked you up at your door. At this point, you couldn’t tell if he was awkward or simply didn’t like to talk. You tried your luck anyway.

“How do you find the building so far?”

“No complaints. Been there over a year.”

“Really? I don’t think I’d seen you before actually.”

“I don’t really live there. Just on the weekends, if any.”

“Didn’t Melanie say she just got here weeks ago?”

“She’s visiting.” He turned to you. “I meant it when I said she likes your company.”

You smiled. “She’s real sweet. I hope she enjoys her stay.”

When you arrived, he beat you to the basket at the entrance.

“I’ll get it. On you, luv.”

You got called ‘luv’ all the time, but the way he said it made you look away. You couldn’t ignore the tickle that ran down your spine.

On the way to the produce section, the offer sign caught your eye as you passed the biscuit aisle. You reached for the goldfish crackers you hadn’t had in a while.

“Two goldfish are in a tank…” he started behind you.

You turned to him, a brow raised.

“One looks at the other and says ‘You know how to drive this thing?’”

Nothing prepared you for a joke from him, the brooding man in oversized hoodies who barely spoke. You cackled embarrassingly loud in the empty aisle. It was your first time seeing him actually smile. He had pretty teeth, and his eyes finally thawed, crinkles by them.

“That’s a good one,” you said after your laughter died down, chucking a bag into the basket.

The ghost of a smile remained on his lips as he looked ahead. You took it as a cue to move along. He stood behind you as you moved about and picked ingredients, telling you the reason he couldn’t do next weekend was because he was in the military and would be gone on a mission. You didn’t know it, but his gaze lingered on you the whole time.

Before long, you were ready to check out, grabbing a box of English Breakfast tea on your way there. In the queue, Simon stood a touch closer behind you than he needed to, his arm splayed on the railing next to you. You didn’t make a move against it. Instead you tried to make out the rest of his tattoo, but the way his veins budged under the ink from holding the basket distracted you.

It occurred to you people had joined the line when you heard giggles behind the wall of Simon. You couldn’t help tuning into the rather loud conversation. One of the girls was dared to skydive after losing a round of beer pong, and the instructor was “so fucking hot summer came back to Birmingham”. She very much looked forward to their date the following week.

You bit back a smile. You were oddly proud of the stranger. You go, girl.

Simon tapped your shoulder and leaned into your ear. “Why don’t blind guys skydive?”

You only managed to turn a fraction before coming face to face with him. Your breath hitched, not expecting the proximity.

“Because it scares the shit out of their dogs.”

Your laughter boomed before you slapped a hand over your mouth and turning to him fully. His warm eyes returned with his smile, looking absolutely pleased with himself.

The eye contact remained a touch longer, only broken by the cashier calling for the next customer. You whipped towards the lady, gaze cast down as Simon hoisted the basket onto the counter.

He didn’t give you a chance to pay as he already had his phone ready at the receiver, shrugging off your protests. You didn’t mention the fact that he didn’t even pick up anything for himself.

It wasn’t a lot, but Simon carried all the shopping up to your flat. You gathered the bags from him after you opened the door.

You pulled a box of salt from one of them. “Here’s for your mum.”

He quickly took it and looked away.

“Thanks again for the ride. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

He nodded, but stood unmoving. His boots only thudded away when you’ve locked the door.

@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats

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yandere-avatar · 10 months

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I'm Not Jealous... Well, Maybe a Little

Summary: How do they act when jealous? [Damn, 3 posts in one day? Wow. Popped this out in like 20 mins.] Characters: Katara, Sokka, Aang, Suki, Azula and Zuko

Katara

She doesn't take jealousy well

She'll pretend she's not jealous and bury these feelings

But they'll end up bubbling inside her and it'll come up in a fit of rage

When your back is turned, she'll attack the person that was flirting with you

You'll be none the wiser to what she did

She'll smile at you and you'll probably be confused

The person won't even see Katara coming or even know what she did

She watches in fury though, while the person hits on you

It definitely irritates her more that you don't realize they're flirting with you

Sokka

He's like his sister, by burying his feelings deep inside

He'll probably know his feelings are bad, but he loves you and it feels so right

He might challenge them to a fight, just out of nowhere

You'll be confused, but the person won't take Sokka seriously

Sokka would make an absolute fool of himself, as long as it meant he had your attention back

He needs your confirmation that you still love him

He'd take your pity over your distaste any day

Aang

He's the most passive about his jealousy

He's very extroverted and will join the conversation, turning the vibe off [at least hopefully]

If they don't, he will get a little angry

He'll control the conversation and the flirter can't do anything about it, because Aang is so likeable

He makes sure the hint is thrown out there, that they need to leave you alone

If they don't? Well, let's just say their house blew down, so now they don't have time to hit on you

You'll feel bad, but Aang will come up with an excuse on why you and the gang need to leave

Suki

Ugh, she gets so huffy

She is very forward though and will enter the conversation

If the person tries to push her out, she will get aggressive

She's very straightforward and will confront them, even if you're there

You think they're just being friendly and the flirter will use that to their advantage

"You're just being paranoid, I was just telling them about the town"

Suki will glare, knowing it's bull, but she quickly realized she was cornered

She awkwardly smiled and turn towards you, "The gang needs our help, we should go now"

You won't think about it much and wave goodbye to the flirter

As you both walk away, Suki will turn around, smirking while waving bye to the person

Azula

Oh, you screwed up bad

When she gets jealous, she gets violent [Though she gets violent a lot]

But, she doesn't know how to healthily express her emotions, or really just express them at all, so she acts out

She hates this feeling because she's used to be confident and adored

She hates when you even waste a second of your time on someone that isn't her

She deserves all your attention, why are you wasting a second on them?

She's mad at them for talking to you, but she's also mad at you for encouraging them

You'll have to calm her down, or she's killing everyone

Her fits of rage cause a lot of casualties

She then blames you for everyone that got hurt

"Well, if you hadn't been flirting with them, this never would of happened"

Zuko

Him and sister have anger in common

He wants to burn them into the ground

Make them suffer for making him watch

He's very annoyed, but doesn't know how to express his jealousy

He won't act out like a child, but he was glare and fire emits from his fist

Anyone can tell he's angry

He'll walk up to you both and glare at the person, before wrapping an arm around you and forcing a smile

"What are you guys talking about?"

You weren't really into the conversation, so you'll say nothing, but Zuko takes it as you not wanting him to know

Did you hate him? Wait, were you talking about him? Why won't you tell him?

God the anxiety eats him alive

He then begins regretting approaching you both. But you just grab him, before pretending to hear your name and pull Zuko along, saying something like "I think I heard Sokka call us. Let's go"

He'll apologize, but you'll laugh, and lightly punch his shoulder, "I didn't want to talk to them. They were so cocky. I'm so glad you saved me. My hero"

You kiss his cheek and he blushes a dark red and you'll continue to walk as he freezes

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blushweddinggowns · 1 year

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Now with Part 2!

Steve didn’t have the best track-record when it came to relationships. It’s not that he had a problem getting into them, he just had an issue staying in them. Or more accurately, getting someone to want to stay with him.

Nancy was the worst example of that by far, but even before her, there was a trend in Steve’s life. People broke up with him, not the other way around. And he knew why. Steve wasn’t stupid, or at least, not as stupid as people thought he was. He knew he was clingy, he knew he fell in love too fast, got intense too fast, he was painfully aware of the fact.

And he wasn’t going to go through it again. Robin had been the last straw, in both a good and a bad way. The romance aspect was obviously shot to shit immediately, but at the same time, she was the one person in his life, who wasn’t a literal child, that didn’t think he was too much. She was the one person who loved him back unconditionally, all of his clinginess and care one hundred percent accepted.

And Steve would take it. He got lucky enough to get someone to want to be in his life while knowing the real him, why push? A platonic soulmate was probably more than he deserved anyway. So Steve accepted the fact that this was it. Maybe down the line, he’d do what his parents did, get married for convenience instead of love. Have kids, the whole normal life shebang. But for now, he was happy to keep all that crap away from him.

But then came Eddie Munson.

Stupid, reckless, annoying, adorable Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson who almost died protecting Steve’s favorite child, Eddie Munson who had the prettiest eyes in the state of Indiana, Eddie Munson who ended up being the sweetest, funniest person Steve had ever met. Eddie Munson, who latched onto Steve with lightning fast speed, and made him feel like his life had fucking color again.

They became fast friends, half because experiencing hell together was a really great bonding experience, and half because Dustin refused to hang out with them separately now that their weird jealous feud was over. The little shit was obviously trying to play as a friend matchmaker, and it worked to Dustin’s delight.

Despite all their differences, Steve and Eddie just clicked. On the surface, they couldn’t be more different, but underneath it all, they were eerily similar. Both had shitty parents who hated them, both were fucking terrible at academics and would side-eye each other when one of their genius friends went on a smart person rant. They were both snarky shitheads who could make the other laugh like no tomorrow. They both wanted out of this shitty town, but were too afraid to leave their friends behind. And they just…liked each other. A lot.

Steve could, and had, spent hours talking to him on the phone, about anything and nothing. And as embarrassing as it was, falling asleep on there together was not a rare thing for either of them. Soon enough, they were almost attached at the hip. Even at work they couldn’t stay away from each other, either Eddie was loitering on the Family Video floor chatting up Steve, or Steve was impatiently waiting in Eddie’s passenger seat as he did a drug deal. And it was all so fun, just being with him. Steve kind of felt like he was on top of the world.

But then it happened. He didn’t know how it happened, but it happened.

One second, they were on their way to the movie theater, arguing about what they were going to see, and the next Steve realized it. He stared at Eddie, still in the middle of his rant on how The Fly was going to be so much more memorable than Stand by Me.

An uncomfortably familiar feeling was building up inside him. Familiar but different, more intense than anything he could remember. But he still knew what it was. It was that horrible, fluttery feeling he had with Nancy, but worse. Because with Nancy, Steve had been trying, he had worked to impress her, had opened himself up on purpose to get his heart broken.

But with Eddie? It felt like he was taking a piece of Steve without permission. He hadn’t even thought about it when he opened up to him, he just did it. He never pretended with him, he was just his bitchy, overly attached self, and Eddie had never had a problem, if anything he encouraged it.

In hindsight, Steve had never had a chance.

He was in love with him. He was in love with him and he wanted to puke. He had Eddie take him straight home after that, with a half truth about feeling like shit. And then he had to wave him off from trying to take care of him, the ass. Like making Steve fall in love with him wasn’t enough, he had to genuinely care about him too? It just made him feel worse.

He had called Robin immediately, because what else could he do? He told her the whole shitty story, and like the angel she was, she talked him through it, sexuality crisis included. She made the argument that if he could fight demons with his bare hands, than he could more than handle being gay for one dude. Which...maybe wasn’t the most sound reasoning, but it worked.

They developed a system, Steve could whine and cry to Robin about his hopeless infatuation, and hang out with Eddie like nothing was wrong. And when Eddie eventually moved on with a girlfriend, Steve would just lock himself in his room for two weeks and cry like a loser until he got over it. It was a good plan, and he felt like he had everything under control.

Until he didn’t.

It was another Friday night, and Steve was always over at Eddie’s on Fridays. And Saturdays. And Sundays. And occasionally on Wednesday and Thursday. Almost always on Mondays and Tuesdays.

Okay, so he borderline just lived there when he wasn’t working, but so what? Eddie always seemed happy to see him, and Wayne didn’t mind. He was reading a comic on Eddie’s bed, while Eddie was fiddling with his guitar, staring into space.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hm?”

Eddie was quiet for a second, pausing before asking, “Why don’t you date girls anymore?”

Steve was only half-listening, still engrossed in what he was reading, “Don’t really have the time.”

“But you do have the time. Like…now is the time. You can tell me if I’m the one getting in the way of that.”

Steve shrugged, flipping the page, “You’re never in the way. I just like spending time with you more than random girls, y’know?”

He could hear Eddie put down his guitar to join Steve on the bed, his voice a little shaky, “Steve, if I ask you something that’s, uh, kinda out there, will you promise you won’t be mad?”

Steve rolled his eyes, impatient as he re-read the same part over again, "If it’s quick, I’m getting to the good part here dude.”

Eddie took a deep breath, voice soft as he asked, "Are you in love with me?”

Steve could feel his heart stop in his chest, and for a brief second, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is what a heart attack felt like. His head shot up, comic forgotten, eyes wide as he stared at Eddie’s questioning face. His mind was racing too fast to form a coherent thought. How did he figure it out? Was Steve that obvious? Was…was he mad? Would he be mad? Would he hate him? Call him a queer and kick him out of the trailer? By the time he thought of the simple answer to just deny it, he had already been staring at Eddie with his mouth hanging open for a full minute.

The window for believability was definitely closed on that front.

The whole thing felt unfair. He…he had tried this time. Really, really tried to not let his stupid feelings come into play, but here he was again, caught and about to get his heart smashed to a thousand pieces.

Eddie was still waiting for an answer, tense as he searched Steve’s face. Steve licked his lips, opening and closing his mouth like an idiot before managing to squeak out, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie was still staring at him, expression unreadable as he asked again, “So…you are?”

Steve looked away, staring back at his stupid comic book as he nodded, vision blurring. Christ, he was going to cry. Eddie was going to scream at him, or never talk to him again, or god forbid try to be understanding while shutting it down. He’d have to watch their relationship slowly dissolve while Eddie kept a healthy distance away, probably take the time to fall for some pretty girl who wasn’t a clingy and annoying fuck like Steve was.

He froze when he felt Eddie’s hand on his chin, forcing his head up to meet his eyes. This was it, the end of everything. He could barely fucking see with all the tears in his eyes, but then Eddie was wiping them away and he was…smiling at him?

“Thank God,” Eddie breathed, leaning in until their lips touched. They were kissing. Eddie Munson was kissing him. And even through his shock, Steve was damn sure kissing him back.

Eddie was trying to talk to him, pulling away to get a few words out before going right back in to press their mouths together, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Steve was the one who had to pull away, as reluctant as he was he had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming here, “Y-you’re not mad?”

Eddie seemed to vaguely understand that they still needed to talk, but that wasn’t stopping him from kissing every other part of Steve’s face, “Why would I be mad?”

“Because…” Because I’m a guy? Because you could do better? Because I’m a suffocating freak who already takes up most of your time? “Because I’m me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Oh no, the man I’m in love with is himself. Whatever will I do?”

Steve froze for the second time at that, a smile slowly spreading over his face, “You love me?”

“I love you, you love me, and I would really appreciate it if we could just make-out on my bed now that-”

Eddie didn’t even get the full sentence out before Steve was on him, tackling him on the bed to smash their lips back together.

And sure, Steve was still scared shitless about the possibility that Eddie would wake up one day and realize he could do better, but for now? He’d take it.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands #Yes Steve #you are that obvious #might do a part two to counter all the negative Steve self thoughts #this one's forever kiddo #but can you blame him?#nancy did a number on the boy

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im-not-your-nice-jewish-boy · 2 months

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we've got long memories

I am not the least bit surprised by any of the tidal wave of antisemitism the left has spewed since October 7th. Every single post saying Hamas did nothing wrong; every single targeted attack on my fellow Jewish people on this site; the number of people who proudly paraded misinformation and disinformation to the extent of funding organizations actual Palestinians have said outright don't help them in any way just because it's against Israel which means that it must be good. None of this is surprising to me.

Now, maybe you could say that I'm a cynical bastard, and you'd be right. But you'd also completely be missing why I'm a cynical bastard. I learned this from my mother, who was beaten up just for being Jewish as a child. I learned this from family who disappeared between my ancestors fleeing the countries they came from and looking to see who made it with them. I learned this from the story of one of my grandfathers picking a new birthday because his birth certificate had been burned when the Shul was destroyed so he had no idea when it was. I learned this from people using "Jewish" as an insult in school and watching a girl I knew break down in tears because people were calling her a Jew when she wasn't. I learned this from holiday after holiday that repeated the same verse of people trying to destroy us and us celebrating our survival.

We remember these things because the rest of the world is very good at deliberately forgetting them.

"It's not that bad because it happened to the Jews. It's not an actual problem because Jews are white anyway. Was the Holocaust really even so terrible? Why do you want to be oppressed so badly if not to use it as a weapon against people who you're oppressing yourselves?"

Some variety of every single one of those is something I've seen in recent memory.

So, dear Passionate Goy Internet Leftists who have spent the last few months attacking and accosting every single Jewish person who dares to speak on the issue in any way that doesn't make them a Good Jew?

My dear friend, just know that we will remember you. You can try to go back to normal. You can try to just sweep it under the rug. You can try to act like it was all just business as usual and there was no harm done to any "Good Jews" and just to the "Evil Zionists" (both of which deserve their own rant post and have multiple of them from people a lot smarter than I am).

We will remember what you did

You will never be able to make us forget you calling for our deaths

And most of all, we will outlive you, just like everyone else who ever bayed for our blood

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #jewblr #jewish and proud #never forget #free palestine from hamas #am yisrael chai

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jarofstyles · 9 months

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Oh Baby, Baby! 4

It’s been a very long time but 🤭🤭🤭 here we go! Oh baby, part 4!

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Warnings: pregnancy

WC: 3.6k

—-

Harry was absolutely insane.

Y/N was positive about that. She sat on the couch as she watched him bob about the kitchen, installing baby locks. Baby locks- and her bump was still little. Despite all of this, though, she found it stupidly attractive. His desire to be a dad, his dedication to the baby that was just a tiny little seed inside of her stomach, his already overprotective soul, it made her fall just a bit deeper.

The shift had been evident and obvious and neither of them had any awkwardness about it. It was no longer two best friends making a child- they were in it together. Harry was just as dedicated to Y/N as he was to their child. She had found that out relatively quickly. When they’d gone to the bar to meet up with their friends, Y/N and Harry both sipping on plain sodas as they caught up with people. He had gone to the bar to get her a bowl of cherries that she had been obviously craving since he had caught her looking at longingly in Sarah’s drink. He’d been approached by a very pretty girl that had her stomach twisting, seeing her place her hand on his arm which she had wanted to rip off violently. He had taken the slip of paper from her and nodded before heading back with the cherries he had paid a stupid amount for.

She had been quiet with his return, his heavy arm sloping around her shoulder like nothing had happened. He sunk back into his comfortable space, kissing the side of her head as she took one of the cherries to pop in her mouth. It felt bit hard to swallow when she did, the burning in her gut outweighing the sweetness of the cherry. Y/N hadn’t been able to hold back, turning to him after staying quiet for a bit.

“Are y’gonna go for it?” She asked,, trying to feign nonchalance. She had done a very poor job of it, though. Y/N was never one with believable poker faces. Harry could read her like a book.

“Who? Girl at the bar?” He asked with a quirked brow, shaking his head at her irritation when she nodded. Her slight pout and her irritated brows made him want to coo at her. She was so cute. “Why the hell would I do that when you’re right next to me? You’re the mother of my child. I dont need to look elsewhere. I adore you.” He turned her face, pinching her chin and pressing his lips to hers firmly for a chaste but loaded kiss. “Threw it in the trash on the way back. Told her I was an expecting father. Don’t need to go searching anywhere else.”

And that was that.

Now, doting dad and committed… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever their label was, he was exceedingly good at it. Phenomenal, really. He kept the fridge stocked with jars of the sweetened cherries and switched his cologne to a less spicy one because as much as she liked the other one, her pregnancy hormones absolutely could not stand it. He made sure to set up tea for her and get coffee if out because mournfully she was also sick whenever she smelled it. She was just hormonal and unhappy that someone else had hit on him.

Y/N had been grumpy lately. She didn’t mean to be, but with bouts of morning sickness and her breasts feeling a bit tender, a weird craving for fried chicken tenders with peanut butter, she felt irritated all the time. There wasn’t much anyone could do for that. That didn’t mean Harry deserved to be on the receiving end of her grumpiness, though. She felt a bit bad as she watched him walk back over to test out the locks, not seeming to be bothered by it visibly but… she knew he valued her a lot and the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was being mean in purpose.

Tears grew in her eyes, the sting making her even more upset. She kept fucking crying and she had been lucky to keep it from him this far, but it had only been a matter of time. A quiet sniffle was accompanied by rubbing over her eyes, not wanting tears to fall before she spoke. “I’m sorry, H.” She said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. Harry had quickly turned to look at her, concern etching over his features as he returned back to her side. “I shouldn’t have tried to start a fight. It’s not fair and you’re s-so lovely to me and I get scared you’re going to find someone who isn’t pregnant and whiny and eats weird things-“ she hiccuped, glassy eyes looking at his beautiful hands. It was hard to face him.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Y/N was full of emotion lately but Harry had thought he made it clear that he wasn’t ever going to leave. “Sweet girl… hey.” He grabbed her chin with his thumb, tilting her head up to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset. I didn’t even know you had seen that. I’d never do that. I don’t want to. What I want is right here.” He moved to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen down her cheek. Her stuttered breathing had him squatting in front of her, getting them eye level. This needed to be cleared up.

As much as he had been thorough in telling her that she was his, he hadn’t been proper in his declaration of need for her. “Look at me.” His instruction got her to look right at his eyes, a harsh swallow taken as she held her breath. “There is no one else. Maybe it’s my fault for not being clear, but I’m yours. Your partner in all of this, if you’ll have me.” Gentle strokes of the damp skin and the shaky breath exhaled as she took another second to absorb his words. “We made a sweet little baby inside of you, we’ve bonded but… m’not just here for the baby. I’m here for you. You’re what I want, and I’m sorry that I haven’t outright said it yet. I thought you knew how much I utterly adore you.” He got on his knees between her legs, still able to look at her face on as he brought her face towards him.

Delicately, he kissed over her skin. Feather light, soft and breezy, he kissed her forehead, her nose, her eyelids as she closed them to feel his affection. He was so serious about her that it grounded her a bit. Finally letting her body unclench, leaning her face into the pecks when he finished off with her lips. “I adore you too.” She mumbled back, holding on to his wrists. “I’m sorry. I- I kind of knew but we never spoke about it and when I saw you talking to her my mind panicked a little bit.” It was silly of her. Harry was right in saying he had made it clear she was his- her still slightly over sensitive cunt was proof of that alone- but the lack of clarification had gotten to her.

“Don’t need an apology from you. I know that if I saw a man talking to you, flirting… handing you his number? I’d be very annoyed. Not at you, but.. the idea. It pisses me off and probably wasn’t fun for you to watch.” He sighed, pulling back slightly to stare at her. “M’here for you and little baby inside of you. You both are my world. And I don’t want you questioning it again. Alright?” He squeezed her cheeks slightly with his hands, making her laugh through the last of her emotional tears.

“Got it.” She sniffed, welcoming the kiss he paired it with. “I- I still don’t think we need baby locks yet.”

“S’called being proactive, my darling.” He chuckled against her mouth. “Keep up.”

—————

Harry’s hand was threaded through hers as they left the appointment. Y/N was happy that as she was in her second trimester, but even more so, she was amused at her boyfriends antics.

He was diligent and doting on her, more than he had ever been before. The friend she had before had erupted from his cocoon, showing her a new side to him that she hadn’t anticipated. Protective, present, and so damn affectionate. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. It wasn’t just sexually, either. The man always had his hand on her, lips pressing against some part of her body, fingers tangled with hers. It was very new, but very welcomed.

“So… soon they’ll be able to hear.” Harry mumbled as they walked towards the car. “So we’re going to have to play them some good music. Got to be careful what my child consumes because I will not have a kid with bad music taste.” He gave Y/N a look. “No radio for right now. I’ve got playlists, going to get the family plan for Spotify or something and then y’can use that.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, approaching his black SUV with a shake of the head. “Harry, I adore you, but please.” She gave him a look. “They’re going to be perfect. With a father like you, there’s no damn way our child isn’t going to know the ups and downs of rock n’ roll history.” Harry was quick to open up the passenger side door, holding on to her hand as he helped her get into the seat. “Besides, it’s mainly my heartbeat they’ll hear. They won’t start hearing a lot of external noise until the end of this trimester.” He had been on the baby websites.

“I know that. But we have to be safe, don’t we?” He was deadly serious, too. “We don’t know the exact time they’ll be able to hear it so…” he shrugged, making sure she was buckled before closing the door. Harry was already an active parent and Y/N couldn't fault him for that.

When he was in his seat and buckled, his hand moved the car into gear before finding its new favorite spot on her thigh. It still gave her little butterflies to feel him touch her so intimately, so casually. These adjustments had made her exceptionally happier in the last few weeks.

“What did you want for lunch, petal?” He asked softly, the music playing lowly after Harry adjusted the playlist. “Is it still chicken tenders? Or are you wanting something else?” The cravings had varied lately. Harry was never sure what exactly to get her so he waited for explicit instructions so they didn’t waste time or money.

“Can I have Taco Bell?” She asked, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “Want one of the freeze things and.. maybe we get the taco box? With all the tacos so we can have it for later too?” Her stomach was growling, in desperate need of some food. “Want some of the chips and cheese too. Maybe 2. Your child is making me stupidly hungry.” The grumble made him laugh. It was very much his fault, and he wouldn’t change it.

“Course we can. Tomorrow I’m going to the grocery so I can get us some good food at home. Strawberries and greens for your smoothies.” While Harry was never one to dictate how she ate, he did encourage her to eat healthy when possible. He would cook for them since they’d basically moved in together, but Y/N was feeling too lazy to cook most of the time.

“Hm. Yeah, I think that’s good. I’d like some crisps and stuff to make dip… maybe some rice. I’ve been craving baby carrots with ranch a few times but we didn’t have it.” It hadn’t been so much that she would ask him to go out and get it. She was still able to go but Harry did like to take care of her so far. It had been a bit of an adjustment but she was learning to love it. “Y’know, you’re spoiling me. Going to make a monster out of me. I’m liking this ‘having Harry go to the shops’ thing.” Her grin was wide as she looked over to him in time to see him fondly roll his eyes.

“Well… I’m going to take care of you. You’re my girl, you’re carrying my baby. I’ve always liked spoiling you. Just didn’t do it as much because it would have been a bit weird.” He admitted. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds fluffy and white. The air was warm enough for them to have the windows down a bit as they drove, and Harry really felt like his heart was full. Just getting to experience this and spoil Y/N the way he had always had a weird itch to do? It was fulfilling a spot in his chest that had been vacant for a while.

“That’s good then. I like being spoiled so I think this could work out.”

—-

“Harry!”

The call of his name from across the house had him jolting, running from the kitchen where he had been preparing their meal, up the steps and down the hall to their bedroom. You never yelled for him like that. His brain had been on auto pilot, running over as fast as he could in his socks- dangerous- to find Y/N standing with wide eyes as their folded laundry sat in sorted piles on the bed.

Her hands were over her bump, visible in the cornflower blue dress that hung over her form. Her eyes were wide as she turned to look at him, mouth open as he approached. His hands immediately grabbed her face, looking her over. “What? What’s wrong?” He pressed. “Baby- y’cant yell for me like that and not tell me. Is there something wrong?”

“No! I don’t- I don’t think so?” She squeaked. “I felt them move! Like… s’not a kick or anything but it felt real this time! Not just the flutters. It’s like… squirming?” Her eyes were wide as she looked down at her belly, the shock of truly feeling their baby moving around inside of her taking her for a ride. “I didn’t mean to worry you but I just- I panicked and was excited. I’m sorry.” The woman hadn’t meant to worry him too much.

Harry felt himself melt in both relief and happiness at the clarification. His heart rate could finally slow down. Perching himself on the end of the bed, he was mindful of the laundry piles as he pulled her body in between his legs. “I’m not angry, Angel. Not in the slightest. You just scared me. Thought something was wrong. M’much happier with this result.” Hands moved from her hips to over her forming bump, stroking over it tenderly.

She had told him about flutters recently, how they’d made her excited- but this was a very new and exciting development. “I didn’t want you to miss out.” She peeped, looking down at him. “In case you could feel something. I know you love them a lot already and I didn’t want to keep the first couple times.”

Harry was in love. He knew that before, but her little moment now had solidified it even more. His lips pressed over the clothed belly, tilting his head up to look at her with his eyes full of fondness. “Thank you. I researched it and I don’t think I’ll be able to feel much until the end of this trimester, but I love that you wanted to tell me.” The moment had been more than enough for him. “What did it feel like to you, though? Tell me.” Holding her body to him and his chin against the bump, he listened intently.

“It was like… I don’t know exactly. They were squirming and bumped into the side of the wall? It’s hard to explain. It freaked me out at first.” A breathy left slightly moved his face as it rested on the belly. “Because I sometimes forget that there’s a real human in there growing. It’s incredible, isn’t it?” She placed her hands over his. “Like a little flower. Planted the seed and now the sprout is growing a flower.”

“Hm. Little sprout? I like that.” He turned to whisper into her belly. “Do you like that, Sprout? S’a cute little name your Mumma and I can call you. We’re going to find out if you’re a girl or boy later on but… it’s better than calling you ‘baby’, hm?” Harry more than liked that. “Can choose to be whatever you’d like, but think you’re going to be stuck with the Sprout nickname forever. S’already stuck. You’re going to be married with children and I’ll be calling you it.” He joked, rubbing her hips as he looked back up at Y/N.

She was so beautiful. Sometimes it struck him in the chest, like right now, how lucky he was to have been given her by chance. She had suggested this and they hadn’t anticipated this sort of thing happening, but it was the best thing to ever happen to him. She had that pregnancy glow, the beam of her smile. No more morning sickness and instead getting to enjoy her bump for a while. The leg cramps hurt a bit, but she and Harry worked on it with the massagers and vitamins. She was truly thriving, and he was elated.

“You’re so lucky, Sprout. Me and you. We get your Mumma, and she’s the most perfect woman. You will be grateful when you come out to meet her.” He felt her gentle hands stroke through his messy hair as he continued to speak. “Hope you’re nice to her the rest of the time you’re sprouting. She’s giving you some good genetics to work with here. M’gonna have the prettiest babies with her.”

“Babies?” Y/N rose a brow. “Who said we are having more than this one?” Her heart beat a bit faster as it did sink in. He meant it. He wanted the long haul. It was so exciting, so comforting to know. Harry reminded her often how how much he adored her, how he was proud to be hers, but that confirmation made it feel way more real.

“Well.. s’your body, so you. But I’d like to be the one who gives you more babies if you decide that I can.” He blinked up at her. “I’m more than okay with one, if that’s all you’d like. But… I would definitely like some more if that’s something you’d offer.” Obviously he would never pressure her into anything she didn’t want, but it was something he had been envisioning.

A full house. A dog or two. A set dining room table and sports practices, plays, dance recitals. Siblings spats and groans when Harry would kiss her. Picnics and beach days where he would remind the children to walk, do not run to the water. Applying sunscreen to grumbling kids and holding Y/N’s hand through all of their firsts. Perhaps it was a big dream to ask to follow through, but it was something he desperately wanted.

“You’d really want that? We haven’t even had this one yet.” She asked softly, surprise evident in her tone. “You like them that much?”

“Love them. And you.” He looked up at her again, pulling his lips from her stomach, letting the words sit in the silence for a second. “Love you a lot, Y/N. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Want to build a family with you, a home. Not just a house or a flat. Want to do it all with you. You’ve been my best friend for a long time but I love you a lot more than that. You’re the person I’ve always wanted to be with but didn’t particularly know it. Didn’t allow myself to think of it. Now that I have a chance, I’m taking it. Keeping it.” And her.

Eventually he would propose, but he didn’t want her to think it was just from the baby fever. He loved her wholly before this but it had grown and changed shape and color. She felt like gold. Bright, shiny, priceless. Better than anything else he had ever seen and she had him wrapped around her finger.

“I’d like that.” She caressed the tops of his cheeks with her knuckles. “You’re my best friend too… and- and I think that there’s no one better suited for the job as the father of my children than you. I’ve loved you for a long time and it’s changed the meaning, like you said but.. I like that idea.” Building a home and family with him. Something so perfect to them. It wouldn’t always be, but they’d love it despite the imperfections and hiccups. She knew his heart, and it was pure.

“But to be honest? To me, you’ve always felt like home.”

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anonymous-dentist · 2 months

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A very quiet evening from the Merpepito AU

Read here on Ao3

Ever since leaving the Reef, Pepito has tried to stop thinking about Pepito's parents. Pirates don't have parents. Bad Pepitos don't deserve parents. So Pepito doesn't have parents, mostly because Pepito knows that all of Pepito's parents have a new Pepito now, so Pepito really doesn't have any parents.

But now Apa Roier is on the ship, and Pepito can't stop thinking about him. He's Apa Roier, he's Pepito's hero! But he hates Pepito, Pepito just knows it!

So Pepito does what Pepito does best: Pepito eats candy.

After deciding that Apa Roier isn't a Bad Guy, Captain Celbi made Misters Pacandmike go back and get the groceries they left behind, and he told them to get extra candy as a punishment for leaving the groceries behind to begin with.

It's been a couple of hours since then, and the candy jar is now hidden in a cupboard in the galley behind a big bag of lemons and oranges. Nobody knows it's there except for Captain Celbi and Pepito, and he'd winked at Pepito when he'd hidden it, so it's probably fine that Pepito is sneaking it before dinner.

Pepito crawls into the cupboard and closes it behind him. He's small enough to be able to fit between the bag of fruit and the back of the cupboard, so that's where he sits.

He pulls the candy jar into his lap, and he tries to open it, fails, smacks the jar with the palm of his hand, still can't open it, fights the urge to cry, sticks his nails under the lid of the jar and pushes until the lid pops off. He yelps as the lid smacks his nose. Ouch!!

Pepito's glasses are still broken. Miss Mouse said she'd fix them using Demon Magic, whatever that is, so she has them now, leaving Pepito blinder than ever. But that's fine, Pepito doesn't need glasses to eat candy!

Sadly, and definitely not while thinking about how much Apa Roier hates him, Pepito pops a candy into his mouth. He rolls it around with his tongue; it tastes like Yellow. Yum!!

Pepito loves candy. Pepito especially loves the hard candy that Sky Pepitos make. It lasts longer and it has more flavor and it makes Pepito's mouth tingly after too long and that's so cool. It's like eating bubbles!

Dinner isn't gonna be for another hour, so Pepito is preeeeetty sure that nobody will catch him with the candy. But, really, it'll be fine because pirates are evil, and nothing is more evil than eating candy before dinner.

But then the galley's door slams open and two pairs of heavy footsteps stomp into the room.

"I'm not talking about it," Captain Celbi says, sounding very frustrated. Uh-oh... "Don't you have a child to be looking for?"

"Eh, he's fine, he's a big boy," Apa Roier says, sounding not at all concerned about how angry the big scary pirate captain in front of him is. "But- come on, it's been years! What happened?"

"Nothing."

A cupboard opens. Something is moved around, scratch-scratching against the floor. Captain Celbi sighs, and the cupboard is closed.

There's a creak and another scratch, this one more drawn-out. It sounds like one of the benches at the galley's long table has been moved.

Apa Roier groans, "Whatever. Your chairs suck, by the way. What, did Bad steal all your good ones?"

Oh, so he's at the table. Why? Dinner isn't for a while, and Mister Pac doesn't like there being anybody in his kitchen when he's cooking. He gets distracted, and then the food gets ruined, and then everybody's sad, especially Mister Pac.

Honestly, Pepito hasn't seen Apa Roier since he and Captain Celbi were wrestling on the deck. As soon as Pepito realized that Apa Roier was actually staying, Pepito ran off to give his glasses to Miss Mouse, and Pepito has been hiding since.

Another cupboard opens.

"Maybe," Captain Celbi says. "We aren't exactly a Navy ship, you know. We don't have the money for fancy stuff like furniture."

"Wait, you're broke?" Apa Roier gasps. "No mames, man, aren't you a pirate?"

Something metallic slams against wood.

"No," Captain Celbi tensely says. A pause, and then: "Sorry, sorry, I-"

"No, I get it," Apa Roier says. He sounds like he's smiling- he always sounds like he's smiling. "It's fine."

"Yeah," Captain Celbi breathes. "It's... it's fine."

(What does Captain Celbi mean he isn't a pirate? Is he trying to trick Apa Roier? Because that won't work, Apa Roier is a genius!!)

"So you aren't a pirate, no big deal. But even regular guys have decent furniture. What the fuck is this, wood?"

Three knocks against wood. Probably Apa Roier.

Captain Celbi laughs. "I'm sorry? I don't know what mermaids do, but-"

"Mer-people, Cellbit. Don't be sexist."

"Oops."

"What the fuck do you mean, 'whoops'?"

More scuffing of wood, and then Captain Celbi is shouting and laughing and audibly stumbling into a cabinet as Apa Roier swears at him.

"Get off of me, what the fuck?" Captain Celbi shouts. Now he sounds like he's smiling, wow. Pepito keeps forgeting he can do that, he does it so rarely when there are people around. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Mm, yes, you're Captain Cellbit, a super scary not-pirate. And you're sexist."

"I'm not sexist!"

"Then say it right!"

Pepito covers Pepito's mouth with the palm of Pepito's hand to keep himself from laughing at the shocked little noises Captain Celbi makes. Apa Roier is super good at arguing. He's good at everything!

Pepito's smile falls. Right. Apa Roier is good at everything. He deserves a better Pepito, a Pepito that didn't do the Very Bad Thing.

"Fine," Captain Celbi dramatically sighs. "I don't know what merpeople do-"

"Much better."

"You're welcome. But we make our furniture out of wood. You guys probably use, like, coral and stuff, right?"

"Wow, and you're racist, too?"

"Shut up!" Captain Celbi groans.

Apa Roier laughs, and Pepito fights the urge to laugh with him. But he can't know that Pepito is here. Pepito is doing a crime. Apa Roier doesn't need to be more disappointed than he already is.

There's a long pause. The familiar rustling of Captain Celbi's coat, the swishing of Apa Roier's sleeves against his shirt as he moves his arms.

Quietly, Pepito pulls another candy from the jar. He puts it in his mouth, and he is silent.

"Still got muscles, I see," Apa Roier comments.

"Not as many as I did then," Captain Celbi replies. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Years, yeah. Crazy, right?"

Apa Roier laughs. Captain Celbi doesn't.

Instead, Captain Celbi says, "I'm still not going to talk about it. Not yet. But... I missed you."

"Aww! You didn't even know me!"

"I knew your face."

"I do have a very good face."

"You do. I'm very happy to be seeing it again."

"Just my face?"

"No- of course not! I'm happy to be seeing all of you. For the first time. Because you were... different."

Quiet for a moment.

Pepito listens intently. He doesn't know what this conversation is, but he thinks he likes it. It's a lot nicer than half of the conversations Apa Roier had back at the Reef. Less shouting. More smiling, even through Apa Roier's words.

Then, Apa Roier says, "You were different, too. But it's fine, you know? Just means we get to be different with each other now."

There's a wet noise, and Pepito has known Apa Roier long enough to know how he gives face kisses. Every time he gives one of Pepito's other parents a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, it's always loud and exaggerated and real funny, especially when Apa Mariana starts fake crying and runs out of the room because it wasn't Tía Melissa or Tío Slime.

This sounds no different, but it is followed up by something that sounds a lot like Apa Roier moaning, and that makes Captain Celbi laugh... and it makes Pepito fumble and drop the jar of candy off his lap and onto the floor of the cupboard out of shock.

Both Apa Roier and Captain Celbi go quiet.

Pepito sucks in a breath and covers his mouth with both hands. He is quiet.

But then there are footsteps, and then the cupboard is being opened, and then the bag is being moved, and then there's Apa Roier looking at Pepito with wide eyes and a red face.

"Is it him?" Captain Celbi asks.

Pepito's mind races. He doesn't wanna get in trouble! Apa Roier already hates him, and- and-

"Pinche Pepito," Apa Roier sighs in the Language of the Sea. "Come here..."

He reaches into the cupboard, and he scoops Pepito up and pulls him out into the galley.

Instinctively, Pepito's arms latch around Apa Roier's shoulders. It's almost like it was back when Pepito was a Good Pepito, but it isn't, is it?

Captain Celbi steps closer. His face is blurry, because Pepito isn't wearing his glasses, but Pepito does notice that Captain Celbi's coat is gone and his shirt sleeves are rolled up past his elbows.

"Are your glasses still broken, Pepito?" he asks.

Pepito nods. He can't look at Apa Roier, but Apa Roier is probably disappointed...

"Ay, that's fine," Apa Roier says. He bounces Pepito in his arms. "You and I can both be blind now."

It takes a moment for Pepito's brain to catch up with Apa Roier's statement, but, when it does, Pepito immediately panics, because where are Apa Roier's bottom two eyes? Apa Roier is half spider crab and half fish and half Ocean Pepito, where are his bottom two eyes?

No wonder Apa Roier ran into that post on the dock, he's missing two eyes!

Pepito sniffs and hides his face in Apa Roier's neck so he doesn't have to see the Sea Witch's curse.

For whatever reason, Captain Celbi quietly awwws; Apa Roier just sighs and raises a hand to gently rake through Pepito's hair.

"I"m sorry," Pepito silently says, but he wishes the Sea Witch gave him a different curse so he could actually apologize to Apa Roier because Apa Roier has to hate him now, Pepito knows it! Apa Roier loves his four eyes! He thinks they're cool! He always shows them off! And now he's missing two!

Pepito's body starts to shake from fear and frustration. Stupid Sea Witch! Pepito's gonna beat him up like a pirate would! Because Pepito is a pirate, and the Sea Witch hurt Pepito's Dad (even if Pepito's Dad isn't Pepito's Dad anymore.)

"Pepito?" Captain Celbi asks.

"Oh, Pepito, it's fine," Apa Roier sighs. "I'm not actually blind. What, is all this pirate stink killing your Pepito Brain?"

"Hey!" Captain Celbi protests. "We don't stink!"

"He's lying, Pepito, I could smell him from underwater. That's how I found you guys. Yuck!"

Apa Roier makes a horn-like sound, and a small laugh escapes from Pepito. It's hoarse and quiet and all he can manage without his voice, but it's enough to make him stop almost-crying.

Pepito misses his parents. They're funny and they always know how to keep him from crying.

"Your father is a bully," Captain Celbi tells Pepito. "He hurt my feelings, so I deserve a candy."

Pepito's head perks up at the mention of candy. He looks at Captain Celbi with a splotchy red face and with pink, tear-filled eyes, and Captain Celbi just smiles back with sharp teeth.

"And I think you deserve a candy, too," Captain Celbi continues. "After all, it must be very scary to not be able to see as well as you usually can."

"And what about me?" Apa Roier demands.

Captain Celbi rolls his eyes. "You, too. Don't worry, guapito, I didn't forget about you."

He freezes, halfway turned towards the cupboard with the candy.

"Well, gatinho," Apa Roier says, a slight teasing hint to his voice even with the red tint to the tips of his ears, "just get me the biggest candy you have, okay? To make it up to me?"

Captain Celbi's smile only grows wider.

"Of course," he says. "Whatever you say."

Pepito doesn't really understand what a "gatinho" means, but it's enough to make Captain Celbi happy, so it has to be a good thing.

It's apparently a good enough thing that Apa Roier gets to spend the night with Captain Celbi in his cabin. They're having a sleepover, lucky.

Pepito misses having friends to have sleepovers with. He misses Sunny and Empi and Leo.

Maybe Pomme would want to do a sleepover.

That would be nice.

A/N:

If you read this, please leave a comment or a reblog or an ask either here on on the Ao3 page just to let me know that you read it! I love hearing from you, and interactions keep me writing!!

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#merpepito au

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melrodrigo · 10 months

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Tardy, part 4

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take Tara on the long awaited first date, how will it go?

Warnings: Suggestive themes, so much fluff you might throw up, teeny bit of angst

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is purely a filler chapter because R and Tara deserve a break, here’s some fluffy shit. I’m not really sure how I feel about it, but as always; thank you for the love!

In the end, it doesn’t take you that long to plan the date.

It might be because you’ve been dreaming about this moment for months, or it’s just that easy being with Tara.

There was a famous festival happening soon, and you’ve always wanted to take a girl there. Do all the cliche things, win her a bear; ride the Ferris wheel; make out in a secluded alleyway.

“So where are we going?” Tara muses as she sidles close to you.

You raise an eyebrow at her, “That desperate already?”

She rolls her eyes, “I think we established that already.”

“What are you two lovebirds whispering about?” Mindy asks from the couch. Sam’s eyes immediately narrow.

Please don’t mess this up for me, Mindy.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how hot YN looks today,” Tara answers quickly, smirking as you turn red.

Sam grimaces at her statement, mumbling something not-so-nice under her breath.

Chad’s also been particularly gloomy today, after overhearing a conversation between Mindy and Tara about your date.

He’s shut off every attempt Tara’s made at small talk, shooing her off with a not-so-subtle glare.

You can see it in her stance, her shoulders somewhat sagged; she’s burdened by it.

You wait until Tara leaves (gets forced) by Sam to go for a grocery trip.

Sam claims it’s for “sister bonding time”, all the while Tara is screaming and crying trying to get out of her sister’s grip.

You manage to calm her down by pressing a kiss to Tara’s forehead and whispering that she should go. She pouts but hesitantly leaves.

As soon as the door closes, you turn and make your way to Chad in the living room. Mindy gets up, shooting you a look before leaving you guys alone.

You sit beside Chad on the couch, feet bouncing; eyes staring at the ceiling.

He’s silent; too silent for your liking.

A few minutes pass before you think that maybe you should bail, you didn’t have to do this right now.

“Did you have to mess everything up?” He finally speaks, voice hot.

You roll your eyes, of course, he was going to be dramatic.

“Tara picked me. Respect her opinion bro.” You say, malice laced with the last word.

He doesn’t budge, ”She would’ve picked me if you didn’t swoop in. I was this close.”

He makes a gesture with his hands, pinching them together. You feel the anger rising in you steadily.

But for the sake of Tara, and peace altogether; you don’t make a scene.

“The heart wants what it wants, I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Chad groans, but you can tell he softens up a bit; body language opening up.

He hesitates before speaking again.

“I’m- I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to fall for Tara. I just couldn’t help it, you know?”

He looks like he’s fighting tears. You can’t help but feel bad; he was just a lovesick boy.

You sigh and pat his back gently.

“I know,” You murmur, “And I get it, truly I do. But Tara’s made up her mind, and I’ve certainly made up my mind; so stop acting like a man-child and be a good friend. She’s going through a hard time right now.”

Your words linger in the air before Chad breathes out heavily.

“You’re…you’re right. I hate to admit it but you’re right.” He says it like he’s just realizing it now himself.

“I’m sorry too, I know it’s hard to see happen right in front of you..” You trail off, reminiscing on a certain someone from your past. You snap out of it when Chad speaks again.

“I won’t be a jerk to Tara, I promise. Can’t guarantee I won’t be a little snappy to you though.”

You breathe out in relief, nodding and sticking your hand out to him.

“That’s fair.” Is what you say, and he takes you in a firm handshake. Laughs a little bit.

“I can’t believe Tara likes a dork like you.” He says, gesturing to your hand with a nod of his head.

You chuckle slightly.

“I can’t either.”

The butterflies are fluttering so wildly in your stomach at this point you think they might just force their way up and out your mouth.

It’s the date.

You fidget with your fingers, sitting on the couch waiting for Tara to come out. You check the time on your wristwatch, you guys have to move soon if you want to fit all the activity plans you’ve set up.

“Tar? You done?” Your voice cracks a little, and you’re extremely grateful Tara can’t see your face right now.

You cough to hide it.

“Wait! I’ll be done in five.” She yells. You would believe her if it wasn’t the millionth time she’s said it in the past hour.

“Yeah, five hours.” You mumble.

“Shut up!“

Your ears perk up, blushing in embarrassment that she heard you.

You sit obediently until Tara opens the door, dressed in black overalls with a white t-shirt inside.

It’s not much, but it’s not like you have to do much when you look like that.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you feel your heartbeat race impossibly faster.

“You done? Or are you just going to keep gawking at me til I make you move?”

God, she was annoying.

You shake your head, snapping out your love-filled daze. “Yeah yeah, let’s go superstar.”

The drive there calms you down a bit. The minute you got into your car Tara had taken hold of the AUX, happily DJ-ing for the trip.

You’re quite the music freak, but you didn’t mind her controlling it this one time.

You knew it was worth it when you watched her scroll through her playlist, eyebrows furrowed; a slight frown on her face in concentration.

God, she was adorable.

You blink, surprised by your own thoughts. Jesus, this was worse than you thought. This girl had you saying shit like that?

Tara finally stops scrolling and presses one triumphantly. Glue song by Beabadobee and Clairo starts playing.

It’s a cute song, and it relaxes your nerves and helps you loosen up.

By the time you’re there, you feel normal; good even. It’s just another day with Tara, comfortable, and loving.

It’s hard not to smile like an idiot, taking her hand in yours and dragging her over to the carnival opening.

It’s amazing. The lights, the endless games, the mouthwatering food.

You stand agape, unsure of where to go first. Thankfully, it looks like Tara’s in the same boat.

Her eyes lock in on something and she gasps.

“There! There’s a haunted house over there, let’s go!” She’s like a child with the excitement that radiates off her.

You raise an eyebrow.

“We just got attacked by Ghostface and you want to go into a haunted house?”

She shrugs, disregarding your statement.

“Doesn’t matter, I love haunted houses.”

Hm. That’s kind of psychotic. You decide it’s sort of hot.

You nod, and Tara brightens up; practically dragging you over in a hurry.

“Two tickets please.” You tell the teenager working the booth; who looks like they would rather be doing anything but this.

She hands you the tickets and you and Tara stand hand in hand, waiting in front of the big house.

“You scared?” Tara smirks, eyeing your nervous mannerisms.

“In your dreams.” You return.

Turns out, you might’ve really been in Tara’s dreams because that was one hell of a haunted house. You’re pretty sure you almost shit yourself at some point.

It’s not so bad when you remember how Tara would flinch and retract back into you though.

It’s pathetic how a single touch could turn scary into euphoric.

You guys scour the whole carnival after that, giggling as you bump tiny cars with each other, ride all the rollercoasters; well, all the rollercoasters that allowed a 5’0 person to be on.

Tara pulls you into a tent, lights dimmed and kisses you like her life depends on it. Hands grabbing at your face, a soft groan leaves her lips as you bite down on her bottom lip.

You briefly feel sand beneath your feet, and you don’t pay much mind to it; until the sound of big theater lights turns on and shines into your eyes. You and Tara practically jump away from each other, startled.

You’re met with the sight of children and adults alike; staring straight at you. They’re sitting on connecting chairs, mouths wide open.

You look around for the first time and notice the humongous red ball, the striped hoops, and the elephant hiding behind the back curtain.

Oh.

You speak fast before you can make it much worse.

“Sorry ‘bout that folks, consider it a little preshow!” You bow, and quickly take Tara’s hand, running out of the tent and into the carnival again.

Tara’s giggling so hard that she has to stop and catch her breath.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cry.” She manages to squeak out as she puts a hand over her stomach to calm down.

The rest of the night is spent in bliss, the food is amazing, and the lights reflecting on her face makes her somehow more beautiful.

You manage to win her a little teddy bear, and she beams as she pulls it into her side. She doesn’t let go of the bear for the rest of the night.

When you guys get back to the apartment, climbing in by the window to avoid Sam; Tara’s still giggling slightly.

You pull her forward and wrap her in your arms. It isn’t a very “first date” move, but the beer you had at the carnival must be making you extra confident.

“How was that for a first date?” You muse, brushing your nose against hers.

Tara looks flushed as she answers.

“It was good.” She says, voice high. It only helps your confidence boost higher.

“Would you want to go on another one?” You whisper, eyes flitting down to her lips and back to her other eye.

Triangle method, gotcha.

Tara leans impossibly closer, centimeters away from your lips.

She’s breathing heavily, and it takes everything in you not to kiss her. You want to make sure she wants it; you’ll let her take her time.

“I definitely would. Are you gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?”

Her words take you by surprise, eyebrows raising.

“Bold,” You murmur. “But yes, Tara, will you be my girlfriend?”

She nods, but it’s barely visible because she’s so close to you. It’s getting harder by the second to not just take her face in your hands and kiss her until she can’t breathe.

“Absolutely.” And she closes the gap between you two, kissing you softly; with emotion, with passion.

You sigh a little at the kiss. Who knew Tara Carpenter was such a romantic?

It turns heated fast, and you guys don’t stop, not even when you hear the front door open and the sound of Sam’s voice ringing.

It’s not until Sam actually opens the door to Tara’s bedroom that you break away and try to turn your face.

The look on her face is mixed with disgust and that lingering suspicion she always has when she sees you.

You can’t stare very long though, because Tara’s already pulling your face back; desperate to keep your attention and taking you in a searing kiss.

You hear Sam scoff, but it sounds a million miles away.

“Go away, Sam,” Tara says against your lips, and you can’t help but smile at her daring attitude.

Surprisingly, Sam does. Walking to her room with a sigh, probably knowing that if she started an argument she would lose.

Tara doesn’t waste any time pushing you down on her bed, straddling your waist; lips still fused together.

She grinds on you just slightly as she lets out a huff.

“You’re in for one long night.”

Tara’s a little wobbly the next day, and you’re shining; proud glint in your eyes.

You both look like crackheads, smiling bright; and you can tell it bugs Sam by the way she leaves the room when you enter.

When Tara walks over and sits directly in your lap, it seems to send Sam over the edge because she stands abruptly; announcing to everyone that she’s leaving to go to the station.

“The police station? Why are you going there?” You ask, cocking your head to the side.

Sam grabs her phone and wallet as she answers, “Detective Bailey called. He says he wants to meet me. Talk about something with Ghostface.”

Tara perks up in your lap, “Ghostface? Does he have leads?”

Sam shrugs and continues making her way through the hallway and out the front door.

Tara turns to you and gives you a quick peck. She doesn’t have to say anything, you understand her perfectly. She’s going to go with Sam.

You nod in understanding, letting go of your hands around her waist.

There’s not much to do when Tara’s gone, so you decide to go take a quick shower. Trying to make breakfast was a disaster, and there might’ve been a couple of flour stains and egg yolk on you.

It’s nice, peaceful. You feel like you’re on cloud 9, yesterday and today was like a dream.

The illusion shatters when you step out of the shower and find 3 missed calls from Tara. Worry immediately pangs in you.

You hurriedly click into her contact and press the dial button. It’s cut off immediately.

“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping a towel around yourself and rushing out of the bathroom.

You get dressed in record time, don’t explain to the rest of the gang where you’re going; curious eyes on you.

The trip to the station is a short one, well it’s short because you’re literally speeding there; hands gripping the steering wheel so tight your knuckles turn white.

You practically burst through the doors, startling the hoard of officers sitting down.

You stop, hold a hand up; and catch your breath for a second.

“Where’s…where’s Detective Bailey?”

A worried-looking front desk officer is the one who answers you. Leads you to the interrogation, makes you wait in front of it.

You fiddle with your thumbs, head low as you wait in front of the tiny room. They take 10 more minutes, but it feels like hours to you.

When the door opens, you leap out of your seat and take Tara in a bear hug.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t answer, I was in the shower.” You mumble into her hair, and you’re so caught up with being rejoiced she’s alive that you don’t notice that she doesn’t hug you back.

She pulls away, and swerves your attempt at kissing her, turning her head so your lips only brush her cheeks.

Sam looks at you; angry energy radiating off her body.

You suddenly feel weird, like the atmosphere has shifted.

You frown and peer down at Tara’s face. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, tight expression.

“Tara?”

“Let’s just go home. I’m not going to do this here.” She says.

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

She doesn’t answer, but she does let you entwine your pinky fingers as you walk out, and you rejoice a little.

The walk to their apartment is silent, only interrupted by a couple of jabs from Sam at you.

It isn’t until you enter Tara’s room; door closed that she turns on you, with an expression you don’t recognize.

“Why did they find your DNA at the crime scene?”

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #scream vi #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #vada cavell x reader

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nejiverse · 5 months

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i love your writing omg!!! may i please request more shibuya related works? let's pretend that sukuna didn't switch back and gojo isn't sealed in this particular story

s/o thinks he's hot and badass so she can't stop swooning over sukuna, choso and feral!gojo after he's done fighting jogo + mahoraga, yuji and the curse spirits (respectively). fluff, romantic and suggestive please!

i'm not sure if this is considered scenario or imagine but i'd like it to be in the same writing style as your "what does jogo have that i don't?" post thank youuu!

I ADORE U

Choso, Gojo, Sukuna

I hope this is okay!! Fem! Reader

cw: suggestive, making out in gojo’s, sukuna being as rude as ever (whats new)

700 words

"Y/n what are you doing here?", Choso frowned, his voice laced with worry as he held your head between his hands, checking for any injuries.

"Nothing..", you drawled out with a grin.

"Liar".

"I just like seeing you fight is all", you shrugged your shoulders as he pulled you into his embrace.

He shook his head and sighed. "It's dangerous".

You giggled at the overprotective man who knew full well you could protect yourself.

He didn't have a lot in the world but he did have you, and he certainly didn't want anything to happen to you during the conflict in Shibuya.

"You're treating me like a child", you huffed, taking a step back and placing a hand on your hip in disapproval.

"No, I'm treating you like someone who I don't want to lose", he corrected. There was a huge difference.

"Yeah yeah...", your eyes ogled the holes in his clothes which left his abdomen exposed. A grin played on your lips.

"I can't believe curses and jujutsu sorcerers got to see you like this before I did..", your hands traveled up his stomach and to his pectorals at which he twitched under your touch.

He quickly grabbed your wrists, his eyes roaming everywhere but your face. "Stop that..", he muttered a rosy tint painting his cheeks.

"I was just checking for wounds!".

Yeah, a likely story.

"You were so cool Satoru..", you breathed out as he left long and soft kisses down your neck, his thumb drawing circles against the other side of your neck.

"Mm keep going", he mumbled against your neck.

You were surprised he had so much energy left even after fighting the cursed spirits with the way his hands were roaming around your body shamelessly. But then again, he was Gojo Satoru.

"And handsome...a bit crazy", he laughed at the last thing you said before lifting his head up to meet your gaze.

He just seemed like a completely different person when in the midst of a fight, a part of you wished you could see him like that all the time.

"Is that really how you think of me wifey?", he cocked his head with that grin he always seemed to have gracing his face.

"I'm not your wife", you responded.

"You don't wanna be my wife?", he frowned, his hand coming up to your cheek.

"I do, but i'm not your wife yet", Gojo played with the engagement ring on your finger.

"Fiancée, wife, same thing", he rolled his eyes playfully.

"Either way it means your mine, doesn't it?"

You thought you deserved a pat on the back for being able to evade all the flying objects being thrown around by the king of curses and Mahoraga because it certainly wasn't easy.

But it was a must to get in closer and get a good glimpse of Sukuna.

It's too bad the fight was pretty much over by the time you arrived.

you huffed and walked onto the open space Sukuna had caused from all the destruction. "Best 20 seconds of my life—" before you could even react, you were swooped off your feet, a gasp escaping your lips.

“What was that for?”, your question was answered when a giant piece of rubble came crashing down where you were previously standing.

You found yourself thrown over Sukuna’s shoulder and before long, he put you down.

You brought a hand to your mouth, stifling your giggles. “So you do care about me!”.

Sukuna grimaced. “Don’t make me laugh”, he let out a scoff.

“Then why did you save me?”.

Sukuna scratched his head in defeat. He really wasn’t sure. “Doesn’t matter”.

You wrapped your arms around his own arm. “Sounds like my feminine charms are working”, you spoke jokingly which managed to crack the smallest grin onto Sukuna’s lips.

“You’re a piece of work, woman”.

You were gonna take that as a compliment.

masterlist :)

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lovelybucky1 · 2 years

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"oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

with rooster?

send me enemies to lovers prompts with top gun characters from this post

im not even a rooster girlie but this sure got away from me

warnings: enemies to lovers, gender neutral reader, sexual tension, 18+ minors DNI

masterlist

The sun on the beach is hot and you can feel it scorching on your skin. The football game is winding down as the pilots are losing interest. Some have gone into the water for a swim, some, including you, are sunbathing, and the rest are digging a very large hole in the sand. Rooster isn’t with any of the others, and unfortunately for you, he deems you more appealing than any of the other activities.

He walks up to where you’re laid out on your towel, accidentally kicking some sand onto it which pisses you off before he even speaks.

“Y/L/N,” he greets with a smirk, still smug after beating your team at football.

“Bradshaw,” you respond curtly. You’ve never been a fan of the pilot, always having found him mildly irritating and, frankly, you think he’s a little bitch.

“What’s the matter? Still mad that you lost?”

“I’m mad that you’re blocking my sun,” you say, cracking an eye open to see his dark silhouette, and even despite the lack of light, his stupid mustache is very visible.

He moves out of the way quickly and you end up staring directly into the sun. You curse him as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will the colorful spots dancing behind your eyelids away.

“Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by looking at me, you wouldn’t have lost so bad,” he laughs, sitting next to you in the sand.

You roll onto your stomach and lift yourself up on your elbows and look at him over your sunglasses.

“I wasn’t looking at you, asshole,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes you were. I saw you,” he says with a taunting voice like he’s a child, not a professional navy pilot.

“Glancing isn’t looking, and either way, I wasn’t distracted.”

“Oh, I see,” he smirks, “So you just let Phoenix take you out like that?”

Maybe Rooster was right. She had caught you in a moment of weakness where you happened to turn your attention away from the game and saw Rooster, skin glowing with salt water, sweat, and tanning oil, doing a stupid celebratory dance. You weren’t distracted, though.

“Yes,” you respond through clenched teeth. “I hate to break it to you, Bradshaw, but you’re nothing special. I could go to the bar and find ten guys who look just like you, pornstache and all.”

Rooster isn’t affected by your dig in the slightest, laughing it off and continuing his pestering.

“Why find a lookalike when you could have the real thing? I know you’ve thought about it; pornstache and all,” he grins.

“I haven’t.”

It sounds like a lie even to your own ears. You have thought about it, usually late at night after Rooster spent a long, frustrating day of training poking and prodding at you with non-stop comments and jibes about your flying or your sex life or god knows what else.

“Oh really?” he asks, eyebrow quirked over his sunglasses in a way that makes you want to snap them in half.

“Yes, really.”

“You know, lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

Frustration builds inside of you, and you almost think you might burst.

“What do you want, Rooster? Do you want me to admit I think you’re attractive? Do you want me to sleep with you? Do you want me to get down on my knees and thank god for blessing me with the Bradley Bradshaw?”

Maybe you had lost your temper, but after weeks of this, he deserved it. He looked taken aback by your outburst, and an almost remorseful look appeared on his face.

“No… that’s not what I want,” he mutters.

“Then why do you insist on fucking with me?”

Rooster is quiet for a moment while he thinks of his response. “Because it’s the best way to get your attention.” You furrow your brows in confusion. “You wouldn’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

“You’re kidding.” He shakes his head. “All this time you’ve, what, been pulling my pigtails so I’d like you back?”

He shrugs and gives a half smile, clearly embarrassed that his intentions are being exposed like this.

“That’s pathetic, Rooster. You could’ve just told me you’re interested like a big boy.”

“I did tell you!”

You shoot him a look that says really?, and he shrinks under your gaze. You sit up on your towel so you’re almost eye level with Rooster.

“You’re an irritating, annoying, frustrating son of a bitch,” you say, and it looks like he’s prepared to be slapped. Instead of slapping him, which you would have done in a heartbeat half an hour ago, you press your lips together in a bruising kiss.

He gasps into your mouth, but his surprise only lasts for a second before he kisses you back. It’s like you thought it would be. A kiss to break the tension, full of passion and weeks of built-up frustration melting away as you bite at his soft bottom lip.

When you pull away, Rooster is flushed, not just from the sun, and his eyelids are heavy and half open. He wipes the glistening spit from his mouth with the back of his hand, then clears his throat as he regains his composure.

“That was… good,” he says.

“Just good?” you lean in close again, and his eyes almost go crossed as he tries to keep eye contact. You put your hand on his abs, and you wish you hadn’t waited this long to touch him.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and despite the blush that spanks from his cheeks to his chest, he still has that infuriating cocky smirk.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #rooster x reader #rooster #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #x reader

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satorugojjo · 9 months

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I don’t think there’s a single book BookTok has promoted in the last couple years that’s turned out to be an actually good “you cannot miss this read” which now makes me and so many others I know avoid it as a whole.

A lot of BookTok books seem to be specific for very young or very new readers who haven’t cut their teeth on fanfic or haven’t been reading from a young age. The writing style is either a really profound Instagram metaphorical caption kinda overwrought and over flowery language, or it’s trying so hard to be edgy and sardonic and ends up being completely tell and almost zero show. This Is How You Lose The Time War is a PERFECT example of this - where the flowery and poetic language actually takes AWAY from a scene and distracts you from it rather than adding anything to it in the moment, and for those who do like poetic fiction this will be up their alley but if you don’t and you pick it up because of badly marketed hype when you normally wouldn’t, it’s gonna turn you off reading in general!

There’s nothing wrong with starter fiction to help get readers engaged and then find their way into actually good books, but my gripe is that it’s never ever marketed as that and as if it it’s just generically good fiction. Nothing Colleen Hoover has ever written is objectively good - the writing style is mediocre and she romanticises taboo topics which will seem spicy to the average population who doesn’t READ. And yet she takes up every bookshelf which I promise you will end up turning many readers who ARENT on booktok away from reading altogether.

YA is another genre that has declined a lot in recent years because it’s full of marketers trying to fit all the buzzword tropes into their books and getting young readers to buy it because it’s “enemies to lovers pirate cyberpunk found family” or whatever - and it feels more like focus group fiction rather than actual writing. I LOVE YA but nothing that’s been released post 2020 has had any depth, plot, character development or any style to it.

A great example is Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros - i tried reading 2 chapters as a sample and it was shocking to see how illogical, overdramatic, overedgy and exceptionally “this happened then this then this then that” it was. There was absolutely zero nuance and it felt so “I’m telling you all this but I’m not gonna prove any of it”. And yet it’s rated either 5 stars or 1 star. I’m sure it’s a great starter middle grade/teen book but it is definitely not deserving to be on the same pedestal as other YA books like Hunger Games or Six of Crows. I used to think that perhaps I’ve just outgrown YA but considering I can pick up YA from 2018 that I haven’t read before with no problems, it’s so specific to BOOKTOK YA.

It’s getting to the point that if I see a book that’s being overpromoted on tiktok, I’m more likely to believe the bad reviews because there hasn’t been a SINGLE book where I’ve disagreed with them, and then go find a different book in the same genre that hasn’t been on booktok - it’s getting hilarious actually that the books that are actually incredible get zero screen time and traction on booktok because they aren’t just cheap easy airport reads. Once again - nothing wrong with an easy airport CH book or YA book, but we aren’t going around parading a Lee Child book as peak literature no matter how enjoyable they are.

I don’t even have a conclusion to this entire rant - I’m sick of books like Babel getting steamrolled because it was “too sad or too hard” in favour of the latest SJM book, and getting even more sick of the decline of media literacy due to books getting easier and more spoonfeedy. When they aren’t? They mistake flowery metaphors for complexity and depth.

#booktok #books #bookblr #Rebecca yarros #fourth wing #colleen hoover #this is how you lose the time war #Babel #rf kuang

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firstdivisiongirl · 6 months

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Hey I am a really big fan of your writing and I love it it so much

This is the first time I request anything so please bear with me if I did anything wrong

Can I request Law with a fem reader that is his girlfriend but he keeps feeling he is not enough and starts distancing him self from her and acting cold because he feels something bad will happen if he acts like him self?and when she confronts him he denies anything wrong which makes their relationship grow cold

Angst to fluff the more angst the better please

Hi @phsycochan! I am so happy to hear that you like my writing. Thank you for the kind words. I am so happy that people like you are turning in a lot of Law scenarios. He's one of my favorites. I love writing for him, but I never do for some reason. I hope you enjoy this!

WARNINGS: ANGST! HURT TO COMFORT!

Law x Female Reader: Distance Between Us

He let you into your life. You were his girl. But, he wasn’t acting or treating you that way. He was treating you more like a stranger. One that he’d pass and never see again. This wasn’t the Trafalgar Law you knew and loved. You wanted the distance between you to shrink. He’d listen to you, right?

To him, you were his everything. You were the girl of his dreams. However, he never felt like he deserved you. Everyone he loved died one way or another. He wasn’t strong enough to protect them, so how could he protect you? So he kept you far away, you’d be safer and happier that way, right?

You had asked him why. But, he ignored you. You told him you loved him. But, he ignored you. The distance between you only grew. Finally, after months and months of this, you decided to try again.

You walked into his office. But everything was a mess. His usual neat desk was covered in papers. His organized bookshelf was a complete disaster with books clearly not in alphabetical order. The bags under his eyes were as large, if not larger, than the day you met. What happened to him, you thought.

“What happened,” you asked, breaking the icy silence between you two.

He went back to his work, “nothing.”

“No! Something is wrong. You treat me like I mean nothing to you! What’s going on? You can’t treat me like this?”

“It’s better this way!” You could see the vein on his forehead starting to protrude.

“NO IT’S NOT!!!!! Look at you! You’re a mess and…”

“ENOUGH!,” he interrupted your speech, “I’m not a child. I can handle this on my own. I don’t need you.”

You ran out of the room crying. You both sat there, wondering what you could have done differently.

****

Three months have passed with the same coldness between you. You two could barely look at each other, let alone be in the same confined space. So you made the hard decision to leave the Heart Pirates. That’s how you got to where you are now. Everyone on the crew was so sad, especially Bepo. He wanted to believe that you and Law would work it all out and get back together.

As everyone said their goodbyes to you, Law was inside. He wanted to respect your decision, but he knew he really messed up. He kept hearing what Ikkaku told him before she and the rest of the crew left to say goodbyes. “She fell in love with you because you were you. You were so worried about losing her that you caused her to leave. Put on your big girl panties and tell her how you feel.” Ikkaku was right, so he ran out of his office before it was too late.

You were about to leave when you heard someone yell. “Wait,” Law yelled, running up to you. When he reached you he kissed you passionately. It reminded you of the first time he kissed you. The magic was still there.

He continued, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I was just afraid of losing you. I didn’t mean any of it. I love you Y/N. Please stay.” You nodded your head, tears streaming down your face

It would take time and effort, but the two of you would try. This distance between you was finally dwindling.

Please do not copy, modify, translate, or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

#one piece #trafalgar d vivi #traflagar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d law x you #law one piece #law x y/n #law x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar d law #law trafalgar #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece angst

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bensonsbobblehead · 1 year

Text

Misunderstanding- Spencer Reid x Mom!reader

pairings; Spencer Reid X Mom!reader (ft Daughter!!OC)

summary: Being called to your daughters school and being told not to bring Spencer, it was the worst day ever.

content warnings; talks of child abuse

wc; 1.3k

[masterlist]

Your heart was pounding. Exploding, prodding, falling out of your chest. The phone called seemed … horrible. You were instructed not to call your husband and to come straight to the school. That was the first and biggest red flag of the call. Spencer was your guide throughout this life.

Having him by your side through the good, bad, and ugly was the norm. So, when the principal of Amaterdam Elementary told you to come alone it scared you. Immediately asking why and being told Tyler is safe and we just have to get a few things sorted out, you felt sick to your stomach.

Tyler Noel Reid was your first and currently only child with Spencer. An angel since she was in the womb. Surprising both you and Spencer because of how chaotic you both are. A mix of you both would or should have been hell but Tyler wasn’t that way.

Spencer was currently in Colorado for a case. Even when he was away it never really felt like it. Always calling to see Tyler and how her day was along with the rants he goes on about how he bothers Derek. You two were close even when he is miles away.

This killed you but you had to pull yourself together for your daughter. You walked into the school that had hallways filled with drawings and bright colors but still feeling so dark inside. What happened to our baby girl? You stuffed it all down as the principal approached you.

As you walked into the office you noticed the woman in a skirt and suit with a visitor pass.

Standing up to shake your hand, “Hi, I’m Shannon with child protective services.” She smiled as if this was normal. Shaking her hand with furrowed eyebrows completely confused why they are here.

You quickly noticed your daughter with her head hung so low it hurt you. She didn’t even move to look at you but you still kissed her forehead. Curls finally dry causing her hair to look a mess just like her dad. Checking on your daughter before anything

“Ty, what’s going on honey?” Asking and you moved her hair out the way. She was tall for a 10 year old almost taller than you. The most beautiful girl with eyes and a nose like her dad. Of course her very Spencer-like smile. The sweetest girl you could meet she was everything and more for you and Spencer.

“I’m sorry mommy” tears fell down her eyes,

“You have nothing to be sorry for Bug. I promise.” You looked her in the eye, almost crying, you were so scared for her. Looking at the principal as she began to talk,

“I know this is a lot so we can get straight to it. We’ve noticed a huge bruise on Tylers thigh and arm as if someone pushed her. The gym teacher did a follow up when she noticed she could barley move her arm today.”

This explains why she’s been so closed off lately. She was getting older so you both expected it. Always teaching and allowing her to set her own boundaries. As her mommy you’ll always see her as that little girl.

She paused looking at Tyler and then back at you.

“When asked She told us that her dad pushed her down. We had no choice but to call cps.”

Your first reaction was anger because Spencer would never do this. Besides the fact he never ever hits anyone who doesn’t deserve it never his baby girl.

Swallowing that down you immediately pulled her into a hug. You couldn’t choose obviously but Tyler always came first for you and Spencer. Thinking about your next move you quickly talked with cps and the principal with Tyler out of the room.

You knew this was bad but you didn’t want it handled this way. You told child protective services that it was all a misunderstanding, that her father didn’t mean to hurt her. You didn’t know if it was true or not but anything to get child protective services off your back.

You took Tyler home in silence, nothing but her soft whimpers in the back. Finally breaking the silence,

“Ty, do you want to talk about it? Without your dad?” You said softly, she nodded her head, you hurried home wanting to get to the bottom of this.

Spencer pushed our daughter

You arrived at the house and Tyler went to sit down on the couch as you followed behind. All you knew is that you wanted to support her however. Growing up with your fair of “whoopings” disguised as beatings, you didn’t want her to feel how you felt.

“Ty, tell me what your dad did so I can hel—-“

You were interrupted by Spencer walking through the door, not taking your eyes off of her. She tensed up which also scared you.

“Hey my beautiful girls, I got back early so I thought we get ice cream.” He rambled as he was walking in the house with his things. Lifting his head up and immediately noticing the two of you and Tylers tear stained face.

“What happened Bug?” He said approaching the couch to sit next to her.

“I got bruises from when you pushed me and now the school knows. Please don’t let them take me. Im so sorry.”

Now Spencer did push her and it was hard but not in the way the school or you thought. They were playing a game of little league football, made up by Tyler. Now, of course Spencer could win a football game with children he just maybe took it a little to serious while getting a touchdown. It sounds ridiculous but he is stronger than he thinks. The worst part was that Tyler didn’t say a peep, she just got hurt and said nothing about the bruises.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry I didn’t know I pushed you that hard. Why didn’t you tell your mom or I you were hurt?”

Tyler wiped her tears and took a breath, “I know you told me to tell you when I’m hurt even on the inside but you never cry when you get hurt and I didn’t want to seem like a baby”

She told her dad honestly, and it was true Spencer never showed sadness around her.

“I cry alot Ty, and I don’t want you to hide when you’re hurt from me or your mom. We would never see your pain as a sign of weakness.” Pulling her into a hug as she cried harder.

You all went to the bathroom to examine the bruises and found the best way to heal them. After that you all got ready for bed. Spencer reading her a story tonight since he’s home. You waited in your shared bedroom for your husband.

“She’s finally asleep” he walked into your room and immediately into the bed and place a kiss on your cheek. You smiling in response still thinking about what happened today.

“You thought I hurt her on purpose didn’t you?” Breaking the awkward silence. Being a child who was hit and beat on just for being a kid it was hard to handle the situation.

“Truthfully, yes, you know how my childhood was, that little girl in me immediately believed you did it.”

You and Spencer never lied to each other partly because it was impossible to lie to him.

“But as your wife and the woman that loves you, I knew you would never hurt or harm her on purpose” moving in to snuggle him, you hated that this could possibly hand over your heads.

“I would never and will never hurt her, I’m sorry for even letting you thinking that.” He looked you in the eye as he talked as his tears fell. Wiping them off and placing a kiss on his lips as you both said I love yours and headed to sleep.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid dad #spencer reid daughter #spencer reid x mom!reader #dad Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x daughter!oc #x mom!reader #criminal minds mom

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mangowillow · 7 months

Text

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person?

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead.

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?”

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night.

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen.

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than.

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you.

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…”

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond.

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.”

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.”

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated.

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights.

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul.

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him.

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond.

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles.

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio.

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away.

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #woosung x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook divorce au #jungkook fanfic #childhood friends #divorce au #mwillow: last to know

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