#this has been in my drafts too long everybody look

[ludicdoll]

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

#archie madekwe #archie madekwe x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh #saltburn #saltburn x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #farleigh x reader

[snowrassa]

Elements of circular storytelling in 'The Once and Future King' by T.H. White

#this has been in my drafts too long everybody look #toafk #the once and future king #arthuriana #arthurian literature #th white

[ohdeerfully]

K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.” 

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #angst #TW: child death #child death #ohdeerfully

[tonicandjins]

all of the girls you loved before

CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 3k

GENRE: best friends to lovers, all of the girls you loved before by taylor swift

WARNINGS: none, just fluff

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this has been in my drafts for way too long. hope you like it! please consider donating/tipping me

all of the girls you loved before is the fourth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

lee naeun, June 2013 - July 2013

Lee Donghyuck’s first love turned out to be the quickest one.

It was a whirlwind romance, like how he would describe it whenever you’d ask him. At thirteen, you and Donghyuck were finally catching up to the rest of your homeroom’s growing pains—both literally and figuratively. Your legs were longer now, albeit Donghyuck’s becoming longer than almost everyone else’s, and you were prettier than most. Letting your bangs grow was a wise decision in the summer, after all. Long gone were your chubby cheeks and you’d learned how to put on some lip tint before jumping on the bus to school. The internet was a better teacher when it comes to styling your hair; you’d never expected hairstyles come with face shapes. Meanwhile, Donghyuck, though his cheeks are still as round as they were in primary school, has learned that the hugs and kisses he used to give everyone in homeroom erupted butterflies all over.

You’d wondered, of course, because among everyone in class, Donghyuck’s probably given you the most hugs and kisses, yet you haven’t quite figured out what they meant when they say he gives people butterflies.

In the same year, Donghyuck learned consent. His mother and father gave him a lecture on why kissing people randomly isn’t ideal at his age and why consent is important. Hence, he’d stopped giving everyone random kisses. The last one he’d kissed you on the cheek was a week before summer started—not that you were keeping a record of all the stolen kisses—right when you were about to jump off the bus you and him were on.

Lee Naeun gave the first consent at thirteen. On the last day of classes.

She was moving to the US the next school year. Donghyuck made you wait by the benches as she packed up her duffel back after soccer practice.

She was taller than everyone else. Sporty and ambitious, Lee Naeun was every boy’s kryptonite. Just like how Lee Donghyuck was every girl’s.

“Can I kiss you?” Donghyuck asked. Naeun blushed like crazy. She was taller than Donghyuck, so when she’d nodded, Donghyuck had to go on his tip toes to reach her lips.

You looked away when Donghyuck got his first real kiss, wondering if the sudden pain in your stomach is the same as the butterflies that people get when Donghyuck kisses them.

kim haerin, August 2016 - January 2018

Kim Haerin was Donghyuck’s girlfriend all throughout junior high school.

Contrary to popular belief, Haerin pursued Donghyuck from the first week of classes. You and Donghyuck had moved to a different school after middle school as the one in your hometown didn’t focus much on arts, leaning towards STEM more, which, if you and Donghyuck were being honest, is the last thing you’d want to do in high school. This also meant that you and Donghyuck were new in town—the new girl and the new guy—and that people your age were particularly curious about you and Donghyuck that school year.

Oddly enough, the first thing they needed to confirm was whether you and him were dating. As soon as it was a clear no, you and Donghyuck received flowers left and right. You wondered whether this is what high school should be like and expected Donghyuck to feel the same, but that school year was different. The people liked the extroverted, friends with everybody Donghyuck, so it was easier for him to adjust to the new place and the new people.

They’d started dating the week after school started. Haerin was a part of a big group, the ones who’d studied in the school’s sister middle school down the road, and she knew everyone. She was nice, or so you’ve heard because you didn’t have that many conversations with her to confirm if she truly is, and she’d say hi to you when you passed by her by the lockers.

Donghyuck tried to take you with him whenever they’d hang out, of course, but his attempts could only do much because you weren’t into the same things as they were. Eventually, you’d found your own group and adjusted to the new school all by yourself. It made you worry about Donghyuck less whenever you’d see him all happy and loud like the person he is. While Donghyuck’s name stuck with Haerin’s all throughout high school, yours remain independent. You’d decided you’d start dating when you’re ready.

The only times you’d see each other, apart from the classes you shared, were weekends with your families. You and him talk, of course. Donghyuck at home is different from Donghyuck at school. But it was different. The memories of you and him going to and from school gradually blurred between all the people you’d met in high school.

Kim Haerin broke up with Donghyuck as soon as you all came back from Christmas break on the last year of junior high. She’d started dating the new guy from the other class who transferred all the way from Germany. She’d given Donghyuck a kiss in the middle of the empty gymnasium and told him she’d loved him but the sparks were gone.

Donghyuck waited with you on the bus stop that same day. To this day, he waits with you.

im jieun, November 2019 – December 2019

Im Jieun was one of a kind, and if you could pick, she was your favorite from Donghyuck’s long list of lovers.

She was a couple of years older than you and Donghyuck. How Donghyuck even got the slimmest chance of dating her, you have no idea. She was a freshman in college. You and Donghyuck met her at one of your seniors’ birthday party; they’d hit it off easily. They had the same personality, almost like twins, and were pretty much the perfect couple in your newly found friend group.

That year was the most life changing for him because Donghyuck lost his virginity with her, and for quite some time, similar to when he’d dated Kim Haerin, he disappeared from your life, and not that you’d cared at much at that time because you were also dating your first boyfriend, Na Jaemin.

Jaemin was everything a first boyfriend should be. Gentle and sweet, determined and future-driven, truly the kind you’d want your parents to meet. He’s been in the same class as you since junior high, but he wasn’t the kind to approach women that easily. He was brought up loyal and kind, and it showed with the way he treated you. He asked you out on a dinner for the first date, at an amusement park for the second, and a picnic by the park for the third—which was the same day he officially asked you as his girlfriend.

When Donghyuck had learned, he was as surprised as a best friend would be.

“You never told me you liked Jaemin,” he commented when you’d told him the news. He was sitting on the swivel gaming chair you and him bought as pairs right beside your bed, where you were still half asleep because he barged in at seven on a Sunday morning. Apparently, he learned it because he saw Jaemin’s Instagram story from your date with him last night.

“Because I didn’t,” you groggily replied. You squinted, trying to make up your mind whether Donghyuck’s a dream or not. “I mean, I like him now. But it didn’t occur to me until he started asking me out for dates.”

Donghyuck leaned his head against your chair, kicking his feet off the floor to spin himself around. “You never even told me you went out on dates.”

You giggled. “Are you sulking now, Donghyuck?”

He sighed. “I tell you all about the girls I date. Even the ones I dream on dating. And this one time you finally decided to start dating, I wasn’t there for you.”

You sat up, watching as your child-like best friend spins himself dizzy on your chair. “Check your phone. Every time Jaemin and I went out, I texted you.”

He sighed again, pressing his foot on your bedroom’s floor, stopping so he could look at you eye to eye. “You didn’t tell me it was a date. You said you were having dinner with him, going to the amusement with him, and hanging out with him at the park.”

“We’re 19,” you pointed out. “What would 19-year olds do alone together?”

Donghyuck tilted his head sideways. “You and I are always alone together.”

“It’s different.” You throw a pillow at Donghyuck, kicking off the blanket from your body and moving to give him some space to lay on. “Come here, you big baby.”

Donghyuck’s mouth formed into a pout but occupied the space on your bed anyway.

“I’m a big girl,” you reminded him as he rested his head on your chest. “I don’t need you to be there for me on my first relationship.”

“Ouch,” he mumbled.

“I will always need you in my life, Donghyuck,” you clarified, knowing well how Donghyuck hates being not needed. “Just, not for this one. I might actually, truly like Jaemin. He’s a good guy.”

Donghyuck hummed. “But I’m still your best friend, right?”

You laughed. Because it’s the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. Donghyuck will always be your best friend. You were certain no relationship would break that. You and him were past being insecure about your friendship.

“Always.”

Donghyuck broke up with Jieun before Christmas break. The reason, you have no idea. But he’d told you it wasn’t as fun as it was in the beginning anymore. And Jieun was in university, after all, and you and him had SATs to pass and college essays to ace before the school year ends.

You and Jaemin took him out for clubbing that night, in hopes of cheering him up. It was a mystery to you why he’d suddenly decided to end it when the relationship seemed like it was smooth-sailing. They’d even talk about Donghyuck going to the same university as Jieun next year. You didn’t recall any fights within the relationship, so you wonder why.

Donghyuck leaves the club without you and Jaemin.

lee naeun (again), February 2020 – April 2020

Donghyuck learned from Lee Jeno that his first love returned from the US to take her bachelor’s degree in Seoul on Valentine’s day. He found her wandering around SNU’s main lobby on the first day of the spring semester. You and Donghyuck were visiting the university after receiving your acceptance letters, looking for an apartment to share. Jaemin was going to another university, so it wasn’t wise for you and him to move in together, hence Donghyuck offered to move in with you to save up some money for rent and other expenses.

Lee Naeun stood there, still taller than Donghyuck, still the first person who ever kissed Donghyuck’s lips, still the first person you’d ever compared yourself to, wondering what she had that you didn’t.

Like the day they kissed in 2013, you looked away when Donghyuck finally reached to where she stood, wondering why, all of a sudden, many years later, the butterflies were flying all over in your stomach once again.

ginny williams, September 2020 – October 2020

Of course, the first woman that Donghyuck officially dated in university is from the UK. Jeno said he only dated her to show everyone he’s immensely improved in English.

The break-up was proof Donghyuck never improved in English. He didn’t even understand why she was breaking up with him.

park yesol, September 2021 – February 2022

You introduced Donghyuck to Park Yesol because it’s what she wanted for her birthday.

She had invited you to her 21st birthday. You and her, if you were being honest, barely know each other. You only shared a class in Literature once, so at first, it was a mystery to you why she suddenly invited you. When she’d asked if you could ask Donghyuck to RSVP with you, you’d known that it’s all she wanted from you.

Eventually, they’d start dating. Donghyuck, at that time, had been single for almost a year. He thought he convinced you that college was finally catching up on him hence he’d put a stop to his “demanding” dating life. However, Donghyuck is your best friend, and you could see right through him. You knew he liked someone he wasn’t willing to share with you, and he was probably working up the courage to ask that person out, which, when you thought about it, was new. Donghyuck was cunning and ambitious and he knew what he wanted and how to get it. He was never one to shy away from the people he liked, so it was a little suspicious that it took him almost a year to start dating again. You did not figure out who he liked, and you knew he’d only started dating Yesol to get you to shut up about it.

You and him knew it wasn’t a serious relationship because Yesol was dating other guys while she’d dated him. Donghyuck told you it felt like the relationship was just for sex because of his oozing sex appeal; you’d thrown a cushion at him when he’d said that.

Meanwhile, you and Jaemin were almost at pointbreak.

You didn’t want to spend Valentine’s Day being uncertain of the relationship would go, so you broke up with him on the first day of February. Jaemin had gotten an internship in Japan a few months ago, and the company that hired him liked him so much that they wanted to keep him while he finishes his degree virtually. You wished you could say the same, that you loved him so much you also wanted to keep him.

It was finally catching up to you and him, the distance. So, it was better you’d break it off before you and him start failing subjects just to keep a relationship steady.

Two and a half years together wasn’t enough. You and Jaemin wanted to spend the rest of your college years, at least, together. But like he said the night you’d ended it: it wasn’t worth it if it was compromising your mental health and studies. You’d cried so much that night, and you wondered if Donghyuck pretended he couldn’t hear you sobbing from the other side of the apartment.

Come Valentine’s Day, Donghyuck asked you to dress up, throwing a paper bag at you.

The place he “luckily scored” a reservation from, on a busy, fully-booked Valentine’s night, was nice. It was romantic and you were flushed and giddy from all the wine and all of the Donghyuck.

“Why are you here with me and not with Yesol?” you’d asked after the waiter filled your glass.

Donghyuck smiled at you. “I broke up with her two weeks ago.” Around the same time you did with Jaemin. “I figured if my best friend would be miserable on Valentine’s day, I should be, too.”

You laughed. “Well, you don’t look too miserable for a newly single man.”

“I’m not,” he confessed. “I’m never miserable when I have you.”

You reached out one hand, palm facing Donghyuck. He intertwined his hand with yours. And it fit perfectly. Just like the dress he got you.

your name, June 2022 – present (or alternately, sometime in 2005 – forever.)

“Lee Naeun, Kim Haerin, Im Jieun, Lee Naeun again, then Park Yesol,” you enumerate. “You were a ladies’ man!”

Donghyuck whines, begging you to stop as you go through his things in his room, particularly the notes and letters from the girls he’d dated.

You and him are moving out. Graduation is just around the corner, and you and Donghyuck decided to move on to a better place. Your boyfriend got a job in one of the biggest companies in his industry, while you’re yet to find yours.

“Don’t forget Ginny Williams,” he teases, throwing you a love letter from the bunch.

“You did not date Ginny Williams, Donghyuck. It was an illusion,” you scoff. “Tell me one conversation you had with her. A real one.”

“I swear to God, she loved me,” he answers. “Stop playing around and help me in here.”

You stand from the carpeted floor and walk towards Donghyuck as he sorts out the things from his study desk. Donghyuck starts with the tower of books and folders, organizing them alphabetically as he carefully places them on the box labeled as books. The other box is labeled as essentials; hence you start throwing his headphones and speakers and its chargers in. While doing so, you get a hold of a small box that contains what you thought were miscellaneous items mixed in with trash, until you realize what’s inside.

There are a few polaroid pictures of you and him from high school, including a picture of you and him on your high school’s graduation day, some receipts from, now you recognize, the places you’d gone to. There’s a receipt from when you and him took the subway to visit a museum at the other side of the country back in 2018, another from Valentines day 2022, when you and him celebrated being newly single, the old ticket from your senior prom when he’d gone with you, and so many more that you could recognize just from its dates.

“Donghyuck,” you whisper as you look at the box of memories. Donghyuck turns, eyes wide when he recognizes the box you’re holding. “Where… where should I put these?”

Donghyuck loved many girls in his life. You can recall their names in the order of when he’d dated them. You had your favorites and the ones you didn’t like that much. Some of your friends wonder if you’ve ever been insecure knowing you weren’t the first kiss or the first person he had sex with and if you were okay with knowing all of that. You weren’t the first and you wish you’d be the last. The only thing you’re certain of, is that he had always loved you, and that alone erases all the other thoughts.

If you could say so, you’re thankful for all of the girls he loved before because they made him the one you’d fallen for. Every dead-end street led him straight to you.

He smiles. “Essentials.”

#haechan fic #haechan fluff #haechan au #haechan x reader #haechan #nct haechan #haechan angst #haechan scenario #haechan imagine #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck angst #donghyuck au #haechan x you #nct dream #nct writers #haechan imagines #haechan soft hours #faye's moving castle #23mwd

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you post more for conrad fisher?

Request: Snow on the beach for Conrad pls?

Who has watched the first three episodes? I was waiting and refreshing my tv until it was time XD Also, don't forget to get on my taglists to get notified when I post something new! I have a lot of Conrad and Jeremiah in my draft

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Per Susannah’s wish, you all came down to Cousins to celebrate her last thanksgiving. The emotions were heavy, but Susannah wouldn’t allow anyone to be sad — not even for one second. She knew the tears and sorrowful faces would take over very soon, so she wanted to have one last happy celebration with everyone at the beach house. 

Being at the Fishers’ beach house outside of summer felt strange. The pool was a nasty green shade and the sun wasn’t shining all over the back porch. A thicker coat was shielding you from the late November chill, along with a scarf you had crocheted yourself. Steven loved to tease you and call you a grandma for crocheting, but he was always appreciative when you would make something for him. 

After dinner, Conrad and you went down to the beach. Unlike the last time, a pair of boots and a coat replaced your summer attires. 

You’ve always loved the beach — especially this beach.

The beach you grew up running to the water with Jeremiah, Steven, Conrad and Belly every summer, with your mother reminding you to put sunscreen on every few hours so you wouldn’t end up looking like a lobster. The beach Conrad taught you how to surf even if you were terrible at it. The beach you and Jeremiah buried Belly in the sand one summer. The beach you went to at night when you couldn’t sleep or had too much on your mind. The beach you and Conrad shared your first kiss. 

‘’It’s snowing,’’ Conrad pointed out, drawing your attention and pulling you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at the evening sky, seeing a spectacle of white flecks of snow coming down with no sound and all around. It was beautiful, yet felt impossible. Just like Conrad wanting you. A smile curled on your lips, marveling at the sight. ‘’It's weird but so beautiful at the same time.’’ 

Conrad came behind you, his arms circling you in his hold. A soft hum of agreement escaped his lips, perfectly attuned to the moment. You leaned back against him, both of you standing in awe of the snowfall. 

To immortalize the moment, you pulled out your phone and Conrad kissed your cheek as you snapped a picture. The snow was only slightly visible on the screen, but you knew it was there. Maybe you’ll add it to your Thanksgiving carousel on Instagram…or maybe you’ll keep it to yourself. 

Despite bundling up in additional layers, the crispness of the air still penetrated through your clothes, reminding you of the chill that accompanied the enchanting scene. You shivered, the night air slowly icing your fingers. Gloves felt too much, but now you were regretting not taking some with you to Cousins.

‘’You cold?’’ Conrad asked, taking your hands in his to warm them. Though his hands were slightly chilled as well, they felt warm over yours. ‘’Here. I’ll warm you up.’’ 

Appreciating his thoughtful gesture, you smiled up at him, the heat transferring from his palms to yours. 

You long felt guilty for taking something — someone — your sister had always wanted, but Belly was not blind. She saw the way Conrad looked at you, the smiles he kept just for you, and all the attention he always gave you. How he made you his priority — always. She wanted someone to love her like that. Someone who was cold-hearted with everybody else, but never with her. Someone who showed his feelings through small gestures and soft spoken confessions instead of going all Patrick Verona during his promposal to Kat.

‘’I love you, Conrad Fisher,’’ you whispered to him, enveloped by the quiet intimacy of the beach. ‘’You're the best thing that's ever been mine.’’ 

As the words left your lips, Conrad's curled into a soft smile. They were rare these days, but there was always one for you, even if it was small.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

[forhereyesonlyyy]

cupid’s work. — a jang wonyoung x reader short.

word count: 1.9k

author’s note: trying something new! a lot of the things in my drafts are super long, so i wanted to try my hand at writing a short that is actually short (and very vague) where i’m less strict with spelling and grammar and all that jazz and just try to vibe, ha. anyway, i hope you enjoy this~ if i see that you guys like this enough i might make a cute little continuation too <33

author's note 2.0: YA'LL... tumblr is becoming my worst enemy idk why the order of the paragraphs(?????) is getting jumbled up PLS BEAR WITH IT 😭😭

warnings: none.

sometimes you wondered if you were extremely lucky, or horrifyingly unfortunate.

when your managers had told you and your group that you would be filming a variety show with another girl group, you were overjoyed. you have always wanted to make friends with your colleagues, but have been too shy to do so. jayoon was more fit for that kind of thing; socializing. but you thought that you would finally try to come out of your shell in this variety show by making the first move on whoever the other girls may be, until you were told of them.

“ive.”

you didn’t miss the way chaeyoung and sieun gave you a sideways glance at the mention of the popular group. while jayoon and seeun shared a high five, and yeeun and sumin nodded excitedly, you were sinking into your seat.

“what, (y/n)? not happy with the other group?” your manager asked, noticing the distraught look on your face.

you perked up, “i am!”

“i bet you are.” jayoon teased. you kicked her leg under the table, but she only laughed.

your managers decided that it was better not to know whatever it was that bothered you, and had concluded the meeting right after they dropped the date when the groups will meet up for further discussions about the show. nobody talked for the first few minutes after the meeting ended, but when you saw chaeyoung smiling at you, you knew all of them were going to speak of a certain someone.

“so,” sieun started. you busied yourself with looking at your nails, pretending as if you didn’t know that sieun was talking to you. “i think i speak for everyone when i say that you should shoot your shot during this show.”

“absolutely not,” you replied immediately. “that’s... that will never work out! right, sumin?” it was your futile attempt to pull someone on your side.

much to your dismay, your leader only smiled sheepishly at you, “i agree with sieun. it’s getting a little sad seeing you pine for her from afar.”

“and trust me, we all want to be spared of your awkward greetings and even more awkward small talks in the music show hallways.” seeun added, shaking her head. you scoffed, crossing your arms, but you didn’t find the grit to fight back. it really wasn’t your fault that you get tongue-tied in the presence of the idol of this generation!

“hey, we’ll help you as much as we can. but seriously, have faith in yourself! everything will work out fine! you’ll see in the meeting that we’ll have with them that you two will get along well!” chaeyoung, bless her heart, holds your hand in consolation.

“unless you shit your pants, then i don’t think we’ll be able to help you with that.” jayoon said. you groaned, hiding your face in your hands while chaeyoung scolds jayoon in the background.

seriously, what were you going to do?

~

“i feel like my heart is going to break out of my ribcage and make a run for it.” you paced around the practice room restlessly. it was the day that stayc and ive will have their meeting for the variety show. when the news was announced on the internet, everybody seemed excited for it. what was better than having one girl group in a variety show? two, of course! both fans of the groups were excited for all of the members of be interacting, and your heart warmed at the encouraging comments of you fans, saying that you will finally have your moment to make friends, like you have always said you wanted to do.

“they’ll be here in a sec, girls.” one of the staff said. you heard jayoon and yeeun snickering behind you, but they both patted your back for good luck.

“i’m gonna faint.” you told sieun.

but you weren’t going to lie, it felt like it was the end of the world.

“you’re not gonna faint.”

and then almost immediately, the door swings open and the first face your eyes set on were jang wonyoung’s. she towered above everybody else and in your eyes, she always had that glow around her that made it hard for you to ignore her. and really, it was your big pathetic crush on her that just automatically made you look at her.

chaeyoung, who was genuinely worried that you would pass out, places her arm around your waist and had you bowing towards the other group with her, as well as the rest of your group.

“hi, (y/n)!” rei greeted, grabbing both of your hands and shaking them. you got acquainted with her a long time ago, after bumping into her in a bakery and finding yourselves being completely at peace in each other’s company. ever since that, you’ve been friends, but you hadn’t told her about your infatuation towards her fellow member though.

“hello.” wonyoung greeted you, bowing again. you found your words stuck in your throat, and only bowed back. you avoided looking at her because every time she was around, it was hard to keep yourself together. (which was a shame, because you would’ve seen the slightest look of disappointment on wonyoung’s face when you avoided her eyes.)

once the groups were introduced to each other, the producer of the show, who was a relatively young woman, ushered you all to sit down on the floor with her. you sat in between seeun and rei and about three seats away was wonyoung. you continued to look at everyone else but her.

“oh, (y/n). are you not feeling well today? you look a bit pale.” the producer said.

everyone turns their head towards you, making you flinch. even jayoon seemed genuinely worried. she was afraid that she might have taken her teasing too far and had actually scared you into ignoring your crush. but you frantically shook your head, laughing nervously, “i’m alright!” you told the producer.

seeun puts her hand on your forehead, “you’re not sick, are you?” she asked. 

you gently took her hand and rested your joined hands on your lap, “no, no. i’m fine, really.” you said.

(wonyoung studied you closely. she noticed the way you didn’t know what to do with your hands after seeun lets go of it, the way your eyes darted everywhere, and the way you didn’t look like you were listening at all. she got worried.)

after that, the producer then went on to the details of the show. the groups will be traveling together in popular tourist spots and will occasionally have friendly competition from time to time. the show is mostly about building friendships between idol groups and overall just wholesome content for the groups’ fans. everybody loved it, and you felt genuinely excited about it all.

“speaking of games, there’s no way we can’t not do the lie detector game.” the producer said, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips. the lie detector machine was filled with bullshit, as you have come to know, but every time your members get shocked by it, it was always fun.

plus, it was the only time that you got to do the teasing.

“although we might need to protect anyone who might be weak to being poked fun at,” the producer joked. your members nodded, and of course the producer sees the way jayoon and yeeun looked at you while they giggled. “(y/n), you’re not good with jokes?” the producer asked.

you shook your head, playfully glaring at jayoon and yeeun. “it’s just that you don’t really need a lie detector to find out if she’s being truthful or not.” sumin clarified, which really only made things worse on your end.

the producer laughed, “really? should i try it out then? (y/n)-ah, do you have a crush on someone right now?” well, that was a conveniently timed question. your members laughed, so you couldn’t help but laugh with them while your cheeks inhabited a very deep red color.

rei looks at you with wide eyes, “whoa.” she said. you covered your blushing face and leaned into rei, shaking your head. while your members started teasing you about how big of a trouble you were going to be in once you all play the game, you made eye contact with wonyoung, who had a fond smile on her face, and only blushed harder.

you looked away, but you couldn’t hide your shy grin.

(wonyoung’s heartbeat started racing. no way. her own cheeks started flushing pink. oh, good god.)

when the meeting ended, it only felt like there was the start to a great friendship. you hugged rei goodbye and gave yujin and leeseo a warm side hug (those two talked to you a lot during the meeting, always adding onto your ideas and looking at you attentively as you talked).

“goodbye for now.” wonyoung tells you as she approached the door with her members.

“goodbye—” your mouth clamps shut and your heart drops when wonyoung suddenly squeezed your hand before waving and bowing towards your members. once ive was out the door, you stared at your hand with wide eyes.

“holy shit, (y/n).” seeun, who witnessed the whole moment, said.

you nodded and breathlessly you replied, “holy shit.”

“i’m not the only one who saw that, right?” yujin asked, nudging wonyoung with her elbow. wonyoung has been smiling for a while now. “i can’t believe you’re going to get a girlfriend before i do.” the leader said, sighing.

~

ive was a mess in high up entertainment’s parking lot.

“i knew i wasn’t hallucinating when i saw it!” liz exclaimed, bouncing on her feet. they were, of course, talking about the very brief moment you looked at wonyoung when the producer mentioned crushes.

yujin smirked, “how did you know she was talking about (y/n)?”

“what? (y/n) didn’t even say she was crushing on me! also, that would be ridiculous. i’m just me, and she’s (y/n) of stayc.” wonyoung said, forcing herself to laugh.

gaeul stared at her, simply amazed to see the wonyoung looking so infatuated, “you’re in deep, huh?”

wonyoung paused, and once again, she found herself blushing.

yes. terribly so. jang wonyoung has had the biggest crush on you for... wow, she can’t even say exactly when. but she remembered it as clear as yesterday. being friends with rei, it made sense that you would do everything to support her and her group. so, it didn’t surprise wonyoung when you made a surprise visit during an ive comeback show. what did surprise her was how you had apparently worked hard getting the perfect bouquets for each and every member.

wonyoung found herself feeling completely enchanted by you when you handed her a beautiful bouquet. her heart melted at your words that day too.

“i saw these light pink tulips and thought of you. they’re candid, yes, but they’re very beautiful. i felt like they suit you the best — simple, but that factor is what made them so perfect. a-ah! i hope you don’t take that the wrong way! i-i wasn’t trying to insult you, or anything...”

wonyoung spent the next couple of minutes consoling you that time. those tulips were long gone now, but wonyoung never forgot about your words. ever since then, you have been on her mind, as well as her heart.

her holding your hand for a brief moment was only the start of her attempt to finally tell you of her feelings, which she hoped that you shared.

throughout the ride back to the dorms, wonyoung was smiling quietly in her seat, with only the thought of holding your hand a lot more in the future in her mind.

#ive x reader #ive imagines #ive scenarios #ive oneshots #ive reactions #jang wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung imagines #jang wonyoung oneshots #jang wonyoung scenarios #jang wonyoung reactions #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x fem reader #wonyoung imagines

[authornina]

Savvy Day Care

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Sav sat in the driver seat of their shared brand-new Mercedes Benz sprinter passenger van going over his checklist to make sure he had all of his nieces. They had so many children and counting, a regular little mini-van wouldn’t do—like on ballet and gymnastics days that they all had together or when Jacob did field trips with them. Minus the boys who rarely made any fuss, all nine girls were very specific at times and some didn’t like sharing seat belts or their personal space if they weren’t in the best mood, so they invested in a sprinter and it’d been smooth sailing since.

“Melody, she so pretty make my heart all fluttery.”

“Here,” she cheerfully replied to her uncle. She didn’t always get to spend a lot of time with her father’s side of the family so being in the presence of her uncle and cousins made her happy.

“Delightful Damaris, she gon’ be a stunnin’ runway model in Paris.”

“Here!”

“Pretty Poppy, all these hoes gon’ wanna copy.”

“Here me go, Uncle Sav!”

“Savannah my precious banana,” Sav called then looked in the mirror and she raised her hand, still not able to verbally communicate much but they were working on it day by day. They mostly depended on sign language. He and Chi were just thankful she was able to walk on her own now without assistance. “Queen Day B, my G!”

“Here daddy!” she giggled.

“Aubree my gorgeous lil cup of tea.”

“Here,” she blushed.

“Ivory, my cute honeybee.”

“I’m right here,” she replied bashfully.

They loved their pet names given by Uncle Sav.

“Lovely Loire, even though you mean you the one I’ll always adore.” “Hmph!” she folded her arms with a scowl. The last thing she wanted to do was be in a leotard, tights, ballet shoes and a slick back bun. She looked just like a little Lake with an attitude.

“Ion know what hmph mean lil girl.”

“Me here!” Loire pouted, attitude on a hundred.

“You gon’ be flung over the bushes you keep actin’ up,” Sav threatened and she poked her lip out, and started crying into her sister’s arm. “My beautiful River gon’ always have my back and deliver…slaps! To ya muhfuckin’ dome on behalf of her uncle!”

“Here, Uncle Savy,” she laughed. “You make my sister cry,” River put her arm around Loire.

“She made her lil bad ass self cry. Loire cut it out before I get Sugar Sprinkle Pickle,” he referred to their dog that Lake let them name and she straightened up real quick. For some reason she was afraid of that little ass chihuahua. “Ard, everybody got their seatbelts on?” “Yes!” they all responded at the same time, Savannah nodding her head up and down.

“Do anybody gotta go number one or two before I pull off?”

“Nooo!”

“Goin’ once, goin’ twice, and we out!”

Jacob was on vacation for a week so what he’d usually tend to with their children was split between Sav, Lake, and Dem. Vant declined to help, wanting to use all of his free time from the kids trying to give Ivy another baby which she refused.

They had so many kids that keeping them active was necessary. They had tons of energy which needed to be channeled in something productive other than fighting with one another. Leave them in the house for too long, barrettes were flying, hair was being pulled and nothing but crying and screaming filled the air.

Once they arrived at the studio, Sav parked and got out making all of the girls hold hands as they crossed the lot. They basically had private lessons seeing as their group made up one class.

“Good afternoon!” their teacher, Ms. Farrah smiled as each of her tiny ballerinas marched into the studio. While the class went on Sav sat to the side taking pictures and videos, sending them in the group chat.

Avery: Fix Loire bow, she get on my nerves with that lil ass attitude! Ivy: Why is Aubree actin’ like we don’t practice the pliè at home? Ooh that girl! Vant: Fuck off my daughter bro Ivy: STFU! Avery: Nobody is talking about Damaris eatin’ everybody up though Chi: Straight running circles around them! Show them how it’s done Maris! Sav: My Banana is the best one Chi: And she is! Avery: She is doing so good, I’m so proud of her Ivy: Me too. Vant: Love Banny and all but I’m not bouta sit here and lie Ivory killin’ all them! Avery: LIES! It’s Damaris, River, THEN my pookie poo Ivory Ivy: Avery don’t make me kick your ass. Avery: Facts are facts! Lake: Can y’all all shut the fuck up? Chi: Husband! Why you gotta be so mean? Avery: Chi. Ivy: CTFU! Sav: I’m mutin’ y’all dickheads now Chi: You better not nigga! Ivy: Whose making dinner tonight? Avery: Not me! I’m tired and my back is hurting Chi: I can’t cook Lake: That’s why you need to sit the fuck down somewhere Avery: Do you see how you talk to me?😭 Ivy: Omg! Avery go away, you wasn’t complaining how he talk to you or crying when you laid up and got your ass pregnant again! He said sit down somewhere so SAT DOWN! Chi: Husband I woulda been sittin’ Sav: Chi get your fuckin’ head knocked off Vant: At least she lay down and get pregnant, some people act like it’s gon’ ruin their fuckin’ life to have another baby. Ivy: Vant do not start! You are not the one that has to PHYSICALLY go through a pregnancy! Vant: If I could carry my own fuckin’ babies I would! Sav: This nigga gay Wreck: Gay asf Vant: 🖕🏾

Pav: The girls are so cute! I wish I had a daughter to do ballet Sav: You late Pav: We were all napping Chi: You always sleep, let me find out you lettin’ Daly do you like Lake Daly: 🍆

Ivy: Okayyyyyyyyyyy! Get it get it! Vant: Ivy. Relax my nigga. Avery: I swear this is the last one. I can’t do this anymore. We’re gonna have to use condoms. Lake: Yea ok Ivy: TMI Chi: I would never make big daddy—nevermind Sav: Wait till I get home. Ima put a dent right in your fuckin’ forehead. Avery: LMAOOOOO! Big daddy that bitch! Chi: 🖕🏾 Dem: I’m not reading all that shit Ivy: Heyyy bookie Dem: Hey Avery: LMAO! Dem did you eat? Dem: No Avery: You want me to cook you some food? Sav: But you just said you was tired and your back was hurtin but now that Dem ain’t ate shit you got the energy Avery: Hater much? Vant: I’ll cook Wreck: Then I’m stayin home Daly: Me too Lake: I’m not eatin’ nothin Vant cook Pav: I will cook. Geez. Everybody be here by 8 Vant: Ayeee! Wreck: I’ll be over there Sav: You cook better than Avery anyway Avery: 🖕🏾

Sav: Ard the class is over. I’m takin all they asses to my house for a minute. Chi: Lord. Let me put up all my good shit Ivy: Don’t do that to them lmao Chi: You know they bad as shit! Sav: No, THEY kids is bad as shit. My babies is good. Dem: And mine Avery: So what tf are y’all saying? Ivy: Exactly! Wreck: Lake and Vant got some bad ass kids. Lake: Ok Daly: Now I need to put up all our good shit Ivy: Vant? Vant: Man…Ion feel like fightin’ and our kids is bad as shit Ivy: Wow. Sav: Bye dickheads!

Putting the phone in his pocket, Sav gathered his tribe of little ladies. They all walked to the van hand in hand talking over one another.

“Loire, you feel better?”

“Yes!” she answered her uncle now all smile. Sometimes it took his niece a minute to warm up.

“Good…who wanna go bother auntie Chi?”

“Meeeeee!” they all raised their hands at the same time.

“She’s my mommy,” Sav heard Day say.

“And she’s my auntie,” Aubree sassed.

“Don’t be mean to me.”

“Talk to the hand!”

“Daddy!” Day shouted. “She put her hand in my face,” she whined.

“Aubree chill out.”

“I’m tellin’ my daddy on you!” Aubree asserted.

“And what he supposed to do?”

“Beat chu up.”

“Your daddy can’t beat my daddy,” River added twisted her neck.

“I bet he can!”

“No he can’t!

“Ard,” Sav laughed. “Y’all chill, it ain’t that deep.”

“But Uncle Savy, she—”

“It’s ard River,” Sav turned to her giving her a look. “We know the real.”

River nodded then rolled her eyes at Aubree. “My daddy still can whoop uncle Vant, I seen him do it,” she whispered just having to get the last word.

[not-magdi]

First Kiss

Warnings: None / sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to proofread it currently

Words: 1.3k

Reading Time: 5min 20 sec

A/N

I've had this in my drafts fo sooo long now it's unbelievable. But I'm done now so yeyyy!! Hope you enjoy it

Love you guys, Magdi

To celebrate Barça's win and Pablo's reappearance at the stadium today, Pedri invited the whole team to a get-together at his house after the game. And like every time Pablo got invited somewhere, he asked you to come with him as his plus one.  

You were always Pablo's plus one at any event, it didn't matter if it was a fancy gala or a simple team dinner, you were always by his side, and you never really gave it much thought. 

"Y/N, hurry up!" Pablo screamed from downstairs. You had to drive to Pedri's house as Pablo still wasn't allowed to, which meant he had been waiting for the last 30 minutes for you to get ready. 

"Jesus Christ! I'm comming, ok!" Adding the last bit of shimmer to your eyes, you make your way downstairs, completely missing the way Pablo's eyes nearly pop out as he sees you. 

You see. Pablo has been trying to muster up the courage to ask you out for about a year now, but every time he comes close to telling you, he chickens out. Because the last thing he wants is for a lifelong friendship to end just because of an immature crush. 

So, for the last year, all of your friends had to painfully watch how you two would pin after each other. Then, contrary to Pablo's belief, you weren't any better than him. The slight difference between you is that your crush has been going on since you were twelve. 

You managed to hide your feelings pretty well, or so you thought. The truth was everybody knew you liked Pablo except himself. Which was pretty confusing for everybody as you were "Looking at him with heart eyes," in Aurora's words. 

Anyways, back to now. After some slight arguing over what music you should play, you finally drove off. The car ride was silent, not an uncomfortable kind of silence, more a comforting kind. You were both recharging your social batteries again before meeting his teammates. 

Something you and Pablo have in common is not being the most talkative on the planet, you two prefer to be affectionate rather than talk someone's ear off.  

*Timeskip cause I'm lazyy* 

After arriving, Fermín dragged Pablo away, wanting to talk about "football stuff". You didn't mind it, knowing Pablo missed his teammates terribly, so you let him be, getting yourself something to drink and sitting down next to Pedri, who greeted you with a big smile.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you! How are you doing?" 

You fell into a relaxed conversation with Pedri about his season, how his brother is doing and many other things. You were finishing your fourth drink when Pedri bid his goodbye to find Ferran, you gave him a lazy smile and said bye. 

You start to feel the alcohol in your system and decide to look for Pablo. You haven't seen him since you arrived, and that was 3 hours ago. With a slight sway in your walk, you make your way around the house, trying to find him. 

You nearly gave up, wanting to call him instead, you saw him outside, sitting on a lounge chair with Fermín deep in conversation. Carefully opening the door, you step out, sneaking up behind Pablo to scare him.  

"Hey guys!" 

"Ahh ... Dios Y/N!" 

Pablo nearly falls out of his seat, screaming like a little girl. Fermín still sits in his chair, holding one hand to his chest, looking at you with a shocked face. You, on the other hand, nearly fall over laughing, holding onto the wall beside you. 

"Oh my god! Y-you guys should have seen your faces, hahah!" 

Sitting up again, Pablo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, grumbling something under his breath. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you." 

Fermín starts to laugh when he sees your shocked expression. "Excuse me! I'm awesome!"  

Pablo raises his eyebrows at you and says nothing, his expression already tells you enough. 

You cuddle yourself next to Pablo on the lounge chair and throw your legs on Pablo's lap. Almost naturally, his hands find your legs and start to stroke them. 

You two completely miss how Fermín watches the whole scene with a knowing smile, too engrossed in each other to notice anything. 

------

It was currently half past twelve at night, and at some point, the topic of the conversation changed to first kisses. 

You now know that Fermín had his first kiss under the bleachers of their old training grounds as children. You laughed at him for the next ten minutes, asking if it could be even more cliché. 

"Okok, stop laughing. Was your first kiss any better?" You heard Fermín ask between your giggles. 

"How should I now. I never had one." You just blurted out casually. 

"What!!" Both men screamed in unison.

You were startled by their sudden exclamation nearly falling back with your chair. 

"Dios mio, what's wrong with you two?!" 

Fermín was the first one to find his voice again, "So you're telling me that you never kissed anybody in your entire life? Like ever?" 

Taking a sip of your beer, you answer, "Jep, never." 

Both men now look at you like they've seen a ghost, mouth hanging wide open, eyes staring into your soul. 

"Guys it's no big deal really, calm down." You couldn't contain your laughter any longer as you kept looking into their faces, they looked absolutely ridiculous. 

After a few minutes they calmed down again and the conversation flowed easily, well you and Fermín talked, Pablo kept quiet the whole time looking like he was lost in his own world. 

-----

After some time, Fermín left, mumbling something about being way too cold. You didn't pay him much attention your focus shifted to Pablo a long time ago. 

After Fermín left, there was silence between you and Pablo, not an uncomfortable one, more a comforting and calm one. 

"Is it true that you've never been kissed?" Pablo breaks the silence. 

"Yes, you idiot, why would I lie about something like this?" You laugh at his question.

"I don't know, the tequila scrambeled my brain." 

Giggling, you throw your legs over his and make yourself more comfortable. 

"You know, I've always imaged you would be my first kiss." 

You were talking so quietly Pablo thought he heard you wrong, but he realised quickly what you said and looked at you with a gaze you couldn't read. 

"Why did you never tell me?" 

"Well, what did you want me to say? Hi Pablo, nobody ever kissed me. And I know we have known each other since we were 5 but would you want to? Yeah right." 

"I would have ..." 

Looking up from your lap, you see his brown teddy bear eyes looking at you. 

"Wha-" 

"I would have kissed you." 

His tone and his expression told you he meant what he said. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or something else, but a wave of confidence hit you, which led you to ask him, "Would you also kiss me now?" 

Pablo said nothing but started to lean in, grabbing your chin with his hand and making you look into his eyes. 

"I would love to." He whispered before leaning in, softly connecting his lips with yours.

The feeling of Pablo's soft lips against yours was addicting. You never wanted it to stop, ever again.

Sadly, the lack of air in your lungs made you two pull away from each other, taking a deep breath while gazing into each other's eyes. 

"And, was that ok for your first kiss?" 

"Ok, it was magical!" You exclaimed, linking your hands behind his neck. 

"That's good because I was not planning to stop at one kiss. Is that ok with you?" 

A blush made its way onto your cheeks as you heard him say that, nodding you hide your burning cheeks in the crook of his neck. 

"Yeah, I'd really like that." 

"Good, then come here." 

-------

Don't forget to leave a note if you enjoyed it, feedback is always welcome !!! ❤️

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi x you #fc barcelona #spain #barca

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Disheveled Duckling

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning(s): Insecurities, and a tiny tiff

—————————————

“Whose decision was it to make Zegras the cover of NHL 23?”

“Tried and failed to make the new face of the league Trevor Zegras.”

“What an absolute joke.”

“Too flashy. Not enough skill.”

“Good thing the Ducks hired another useless player. I was afraid they might actually make the playoffs.”

“Wonder if he has to hold onto sh** when the wind blows”

“His girlfriend need a man’s man?”

“Holy shit!” I slammed the door to the house I’d slowly grown to love. Trevor and Jamie’s.

Jamie’s head shot up from the couch, startled and frightened by both my abrupt arrival and my anger.

“You good?” I heard him chuckle. No doubt nervous. I took my shoes off, locked the door, and turned to look at my boyfriend’s best friend. Silence filled the air around us. Jamie’s nervous smile immediately disappeared.

“It’s impossible.” My shirt was dripping with water, as were my hands. “And you didn’t even come outside to help!”

“Trevor’s car is really that unclean-able?”

“It’s yours! It’s your Jamie! What are you driving through?” His cheeks turned red. Trevor was out for a hockey game, but when I informed him that my work place was trying to schedule a late night meeting, and we hadn’t known how long Jamie was going to be at the doctors office, Trevor said he’d simply take an Uber. I felt bad when Jamie came home five minutes after Trevor had left. So I decided to go out and wash their cars for them. It was a nice day anyway, a little outdoor time hadn’t hurt.

“I don’t know?” I had managed to get Trevor’s car practically spotless before I had waxed it. But Jamie’s was something else. It had tiny asphalt pieces all over. Which was usual on a car, but I couldn’t scrape them away without chipping paint, and they wouldn’t just wipe away either.

The sun had begun setting mere minutes ago. I had given up on Jamie’s car. I was tired, I’d missed more of the hockey game than I wanted to, and now I was simply angry.

“You’re lucky I have a moral compass that says I shouldn’t hit injured people.” I grumbled as I left the living room, walking through the house to find mine and Trevor’s bedroom. I needed a change of clothes. Something comfortable.

I had been getting notifications for a while on my NHL app. I had only stopped to look at a few, but from what I’d seen, the Ducks were losing. Another reason to be stressed. Another reason to worry about my boyfriend.

I met Trevor when he played for the USA hockey team. We just happened to be in the same town and in the same pastry shop the night it happened. He was trying to order a bear claw, and I had let out a rather exaggerated sigh over the fact that it was the last one. We shared it over two cups of iced coffee.

After that, we became friends and remained so for a long time. The year he got drafted into the NHL, it seemed he’d been on enough of an adrenaline rush to ask me out. I said yes. He pursued his dreams while I pursued my own. Our paths of life ran parallel, but close enough to hold hands along our walks.

I’d been around long enough to see Trevor make records in USA hockey, get drafted, play in the AHL, and eventually join the league permanently. I’d also seen the rise and fall of his mentality as those years went by as well.

I couldn’t pinpoint when it truly started, but I would certainly say when the media began pushing to make him the new face of the league. That was when Trevor began to feel the anxiety.

To everybody else, he loved it. To everybody else, he ate up every second of attention he got. He loved the videos online, the commercials, the sponsorships and free stuff. And part of that was true. Trevor did love all of those things.

But people put so much pressure on you when they expect you to be the poster child of anything. It can change people. Hell, Sidney Crosby’s first year in the NHL was spent screaming at any ref he could over a call he didn’t like. Getting misconducts and penalties he ought not to. Good men can fall long ways under immense pressure. But when the spotlight is on you, all people want is to see you fall and fail. People want to see the hero bend and bend and eventually break.

Trevor loved the attention, but he despised the hate. He didn’t like opening his sports news apps to find articles on himself, and not having the impulse control to not read them. He hated posting something on Instagram, and going back to check a comment from a friend, only to find hate surrounding it. He hated hearing people he looked up to all his life’s putting him down left and right. He hated being misunderstood, but not given the platform to express his grievances. He had no right to discuss his feelings. Nobody would listen.

Perhaps that had been what made him feel like he couldn’t come to me. What made him pull away when I could tell he was tense and disappointed. It took me forever to really understand why he would come home looking so defeated. Looking like a parent who should have expected better from their kid. It took me forever to realize how much Trevor hated himself.

I blamed it on the publicity over and over again. They built him up so much, just to tear him back down. And I knew with each loss, there was a new article. A new post. A new video. A new comment.

My hopes were whisked away when I opened the NHL app to see the score. 5-1. Not a good look for the Ducks. Then of course, upon further inspection, opening the live summary of the game, I realized Trevor had his own ten minute misconduct.

I was never happy that he fought. That he got in people’s faces and picked fights with guys who could have pinned him down to the ice in one shove. But I understood somewhat. Trevor was just trying to look out for himself. Trying in his own short tempered way to be heard in a league that would not listen to him. But we both found through time that nobody was on his side other than his team and few friends.

“Jamie!” I tossed my phone down onto the bed as I grabbed a spare shirt and a pair of shorts. I quickly changed, the lack of response leading me to assume Jamie was ignoring me. I rolled my eyes as I walked back down the hall, stopping once I was in the living area and over the couch.

Not ignoring, somehow asleep. I worried sometimes about him and his pain medication. He was responsible with it, but I still worried. I gently nudged him. Easy to wake, per usual. And he couldn’t have been out that long.

I nudged Jamie again, watching his eyes flutter open. I gestured for him to move, and he quickly cleared a space for me on the edge of the couch. I sat and took the tv remote, turning the screen on.

“Have you had the game on at all?”

“No.. it’s been.. kinda- stressing me out.” I nodded.

“Trevor got into another fight.” Jamie wasn’t surprised. But he knew as well as I did that Trevor was struggling. On his own little broken sailboat, refusing help because he didn’t want anybody else to be caught up in his storm.

“It should be over by now.” Jamie shifted and sat up, leaning against the arm rest of the couch.

I found the channel and flipped it on. Sure enough, Jamie had been correct. I crossed one of my legs over the other, eyeing up the tv in search of my boyfriend. When I couldn’t find him, I assumed they had kicked him out of the entire arena for the last ten minutes of the game. Banished to the locker room.

I used to love games that took place in the middle of the day. Trevor would come home and we’d have dinner together. Then we’d curl up in bed and whisper for hours until we fell asleep. Now, games in the middle of the day meant there was extra time to avoid aggravating Trevor.

We sat in silence until the goal horn sounded, frustrated Ducks players exiting the ice. It was a waiting game now. One Jamie and I were happy to do together, so neither had to worry about Trevor alone.

“He’ll probably be fine.” Jamie broke the silence with a statement we both knew to be false.

“He hasn’t been fine.” I knew that in my mind, but my heart broke at the first confession of the fact. Trevor had been a wreck of emotions and I hadn’t been able to fix even one of his problems.

And he hid it all so well underneath that big smile. And all those jokes.

Jamie and I returned to silence not long after, but when we caught the headlights through the window, he had been the first to get up to leave.

“You should handle this one.. right?” I gave a nod in approval to his suggestion.

“I’ve got him.”

Jamie retreated to his room after that. Always only one call away if Trevor or I ever needed him. I was supposed to be one call away for Trevor too. Why didn’t he ever dial my number?

I waited for what felt like hours for Trevor to come inside. He never did. So I decided to see what was going on. I unlocked and opened the front door, surprised by the sight of Getzlaf’s car in the driveway. I could just barely make out the silhouette of two figures, one pointing at the other in a manner that looked tense.

I leaned in the doorway, and waited patiently before I was spotted. Getzlaf gestured, and Trevor climbed out of the car. He grabbed his gear from the back, and I heard his voice shout something to his old captain before making his way up the short drive to the door. I wasn’t sure what to say, so instead I stood there, staring at Trevor as his eyes met mine. He looked like he was waiting for something.

“Can I come in?” I was surprised by Trevor’s tone. Playful and lighthearted. I looked skeptical, but I nodded and stepped aside nonetheless.

“I was thinking we could do dinner? I miss that. Maybe- we could try.. like steaks? I know Jamie just got a pack the other day.” Trevor’s always been talkative, but this time it feels off. There was a sound in his voice I didn’t know how to place.

“Trevor I can’t cook steaks.”

“Let me do it.” I stared at him as he shut the door. He hated cooking.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Let me take care of you.” I shrugged. What’s the worst that could happen?

Trevor insisted I sit at the table while he did his thing. I was hesitant, but I allowed him space nonetheless. Trevor tried to talk about the game a bit, but the bitter laugh that occasionally fell from his lips, and the sad sound in his voice usually caused him to stop before he got into any good details. He often stopped his own comments with something like, “guess it doesn’t matter anyway.” And the repetition of the phrase made me feel like it was a media interview. Like he was repeating and repeating just to get me to go away and stop asking questions. I hadn’t asked any in the first place. That’s what he was hesitant about.

“And the misconduct?” I hoped to look disinterested. Like it didn’t bother me, so I looked down at my phone. Trevor never turned to look at me.

“It was bullshit.” I glanced up at him. His shoulders rose slightly.

“What was it on?”

“You didn’t watch?” Trevor turned to look at me, and I don’t know why, but this time he seemed upset. I had missed games of his before… but this was the first in a long time.

“I was a little busy.” I smiled at him, hopeful to keep the clean car a secret until he could see it in the morning.

“No that’s cool..” he shrugged it off and turned back to the stove. It was definitely not cool, not to him, but he wanted to move on. So we moved on.

I listened to Trevor occasionally mumble under his breath about whatever he was making, the sweet smell of cooked meat filling the kitchen along with the sound of the sizzle of two steaks on the pan. I was certain I hadn’t missed out on Trevor learning how to cook.

Once they were finished, my boyfriend beckoned me over, and I was quick to join his side. He cut a piece and I waited for it to cool off before biting the tender piece of meat off the knife he held. At first it was perfect. Then it was oddly sweet. I made a face. Trevor noticed.

“What’s wrong with it?”

My eyes searched the various items and ingredients strewn across the counter. When I noticed it, I giggled.

“Trevor,” I nodded my head toward the container I used for sugar. I never labeled it because I knew what it was, and the boys didn’t use the big box of sugar I had set aside for baking.

“That’s sugar.” His face fell for a split second. Then he started to laugh. I thought about joining him before it all just felt off. Trevor’s eyes quickly adopted a glazed over look, his smile falling into a frown as the laughter ceased and an overwhelming look of grief overcame his features.

Trevor shook his head before turning the stovetop off. I reached for him while he reached for his keys in his pocket.

“Where do you wanna eat?”

“Baby no. We’ll fix this.”

“I don’t want to. Where do you want to eat?”

“Trevor.”

“I said I don’t want to!”

We didn’t get into fights much. We didn’t like to, but I couldn’t keep disregarding his feelings for his comfort. Something had to give.

“I love you, but you’re gonna sit your ass down and talk to me Trevor.”

“Fuck this.” He shook his head, tossing his keys onto the counter and turning to walk away.

“Trevor!” I snapped and followed him. “I am so sick of seeing you so- so sad! You have to talk to me!”

“I don’t!”

“Then who are you going to talk to? Huh?” Because I knew he was horrible at opening up.

“I don’t know! Nobody fucking listens!” I followed him all the way into our room, pushing the door shut behind myself.

“I’m listening!” I was desperate. “Trevor, I’m right. Here.” He turned to look at me. His anger eased into a blank stare, and it seemed my offer brought everything crashing down at once.

We stared each other down. Both waiting for the other to give up or make some kind of move.

“I’m so tired.” Trevor’s voice quivered, his lips pulling into a frown I hated to see. His eyes fell to the floor.

“Everybody’s so…” he drew in a breath. “Too much- it’s all too much.” Trevor sat down on the side of our bed, his head fell into his hands. “They hate me.”

There was a little kid in there. Devastated. Heartbroken that his heroes wanted him gone. That kids parents didn’t deem him a good role model. That he was ruining his own track record by trying to stay afloat. Trying to survive when nobody respected him. When refs pushed him around and legends dragged his name through the mud. Trevor just wanted to live his dream. He had fun before all the publicity. He didn’t need it, but it was forced on him.

“Nobody hates you.” I slowly made my way over, raking my hands through his hair. Trevor lifted his head to look at me, his brow furrowed and his cheeks red.

“Everybody does! I don’t want to be the guy everybody hates!” Trevor raised his voice, but I couldn’t be bothered to be upset. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

“They liked me..” his voice dropped to a mere whisper. My brow furrowed as I rested my hands on his cheeks, prepared to wipe tears as they began to fall.

“Huh?” I met his volume, Trevor closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“They liked me.. and I ruined it.” Sure, he hadn’t been perfect, but even the aggressive egotistical asshole players had fans. This wasn’t Trevor’s doing. This was the media realizing they failed and then deciding to spin his story. To make him a villain.

“It’s all my fault.” His words were interrupted by a broken gasp, I guided his head to lean against my stomach, pushing a sigh past my lips as I tried not to get too emotional.

“Trevor, this is not your fault.” I ran one hand through his hair while the other held his head.

“I just can’t- fuck!” His voice was muffled in my shirt. “I don’t want this.” I glanced down at him again, my hands travelled to his jaw to move his head from my body.

Trevor’s eyes met my own. So sad. So lost. So broken.

“I don’t want hockey if it comes with all this shit.” He tried to bury his head back against my body, but I held his jaw tightly.

“Trevor.” I carefully moved forward, resting my legs on the bed on either side of his own. I sat on his thighs and pulled Trevor in for a tight hug. His hands gripped the sides of my shirt.

“You just have to be patient. They’re gonna test you.” I whispered against his ear as his head buried in the crook of my neck.

“They test me every day.” I sighed. I didn’t know how to help. “I mess everything up.. they don’t want me. They want somebody who can actually get shit done. They want somebody bigger and faster.. and stronger. They want what I’m not.”

I rubbed at his back with one of my hands.

“Trevor, nobody gives a shit about your weight.” I had never heard a single thing on it before. Sure, maybe his mom made a comment or two about how skinny he was, but it was more so commentary when she was trying to feed him. It never had anything to do with his job.

“Yes they do.” He was insistent. I knew this was a projection. Him trying to find a reason to blame himself for something he couldn’t help. Not everybody gained muscle easily. It wasn’t a bad thing. But to him it was. To him, it was embarrassing.

“I think you look great already. If you get too big, then you can’t lay on top of me any more.”

“That’s not the point.” My joke crash landed. It only seemed to frustrate Trevor more. “People just.. they say shit.” I rested one of my hands on Trevor’s forearm while I worked the other through his hair.

“Like what?”

“That I can’t keep up.. that I’m too scrawny. I need to ‘build up.’ But I can’t! I try and I can’t! I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” He sounded desperate. Desperate for answers I didn’t have.

“It’s genetics Trev. It’s not something you can help.” I knew he tried a million different things. Nothing ever worked. And I knew how hopeless he could get when he’d go to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, and see absolutely no progress. Trevor never had an issue with his body until people started saying things about it.

He’d always wanted to get bigger, but he was patient before. He was willing to really take his time. Now one comment could leave him in the gym for more hours on end than he ought to be in there for. One chirp left him laid down next to me in bed with a shirt on and a pair of pants, curled in on himself like it would somehow make him and his insecurities any less noticeable.

“Or maybe I just shouldn’t be playing hockey. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it.” His sadness had shifted into acceptance. Like he was ready to give up.

“They drafted you Trevor. People talked about you forever. People were elated to have you in the league.”

“Yeah. Were.“

“They still are.” I sighed. “So you have an attitude? They’ll get over it. You know how many people have said they love you? They love your personality, and your talent? You’re a new version of the game. A new type of style everybody is going to know you for.” I moved my hand from Trevor’s hair. I gently traced his jawline with my fingers, holding my breath at the sight of my disheveled duckling.

“What if it never gets better?” Trevor had thought about this more than I realized. I shook my head.

“It will. There’ll be some new hotshot they’ll idolize and attack. Some new player who takes a downward spiral that they decide to torture. This won’t be you forever.. you just have to stay strong while it happens. Okay?”

“I just wanted to play hockey..” exhaustion was evident in his tone. I allowed Trevor to rest his head on my shoulder again, his breaths were heavy from trying to hold back the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“It’ll all work itself out, Trev.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “They did the same thing to Jack.. they did the same thing to Crosby. You just have to handle it better.. that’s all. You know I love you, I just think they get under your skin too easy.”

“I know.” Trevor sighed.

“You have to remember to calm down sometimes. Nobody’s ever going to listen if all you do is yell and fight.”

“That’s what Getz said.” I had been curious, but at no point did I consider asking what Getzlaf had said to Trevor. It hadn’t been my place. But I was happy Trevor told me nonetheless. It was reassuring to know somebody else was telling him the same things.

“You need a stress ball out there or something.” I joked softly, running my hand through Trevor’s hair one last time before I rested my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so I could see him.

Trevor mustered a sad smile at my words.

“Maybe you just need to chew on your glove like Jack.” I added, trying to go two for two. It seemed that comment earned a giggle from him.

“Or reach out and talk to him.” My tone took up a more serious sound. Trevor pursed his lips and nodded. “You guys don’t talk as much as you should. He probably gets jealous of Jamie.”

I went three for three the second I noticed Trevor’s smile widen, his eyes squinting as well when he laughed.

Silence enveloped our own little world. I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Trevor seemed to finally relax.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I whispered as I gently placed my hands on his chest. Trevor picked up the cue to lay back as I propped myself up over him.

“And I love you.” I added softly, pressing a kiss to his collar. “And Jamie loves you,” Trevor smiled again. “And your mom, and your siblings, and your dad. And all of your friends all scattered about.” I climbed off of Trevor and slipped off the bed. He looked confused before sitting up to look at me, eventually standing as well.

“You don’t have to be perfect.” He stepped closer, resting his hands on my sides as my own slipped beneath his shirt to hold his hips. “Nobody needs you to become a body builder.” I continued. Trevor nodded slowly. “And nobody needs you to lose that attitude.” I wrapped my arms around his body beneath his shirt, gently scratching his back. His weakness. He loved back scratches. “Just keep being the Trevor I know and love. Just be yourself, okay? Everything comes after that.”

And everything did come after that. I didn’t want Trevor to lose himself or his confidence because of others.

After I got him settled, Trevor and I had cleaned the mess in the kitchen and I took him out for a quick dinner. We ate on some curbside, talking and laughing over nonsense. When we did get home, I had checked up on Jamie, prepared to ask if he was hungry before I found he’d been asleep. After that, I slipped back into our room and got settled in bed with him, flipping through streaming services until we found something to fall asleep to.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #trevor zegras #nhl x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine

[susvale]

M.I.A. Homelander X Reader X Steve Roger

Title: Missing In action

Pairings: Homelander X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Dark Steve x Reader, Dark Homelander x reader [Crossover]

Summary: You were an avenger, one of the more magic ones. People called your name in excitement and felt safe being around you, then thanos happened… when you weren’t snapped and after a police call you were somewhere else. Now all you know is there is a man with a cap calling himself Homelander calling himself “Americas Hero” and the world is different… is it isn’t so bad though.

I made this is 2022, It’s been sitting in my drafts for that long… so yeah!

[Part One] -> [Part Two]

It was overwhelming at times. Cameras in your face after a mission were you were left battered and bruised, nevertheless you smiled, you gave a proud smile to the reporters reporting. They had risked things coming here did it make your job harder, yes, the helicopters flying around while you try and fly. It added pressure to keep people in the air safe. At least you weren’t Steve, they made him do dumb shit, like that time he was in a Detention video spouting nonesense. You job was only to keep people safe. People may offer you movie rolls but you always decline, you weren’t an actor your a hero. Even if declining meant buying an okay-ish apartment with a broken Landry machine. You weren’t a millionaire, just a lady with the power to say “bang” and a mans head would explode if you wanted to. Even then, you had the option to live in Tony’s tower. Maybe then some random wouldn’t show up ever week looking to kill you. A sigh left your lips as you looked down at the TV, Thanos killed half the population and vanished. That is what’s in the News again. Men lost daughters, mothers lost sons but everybody lost someone. Even so it still stung he wouldn’t pick up your calls, you wanted to shout at him ‘your not dead yet and neither am I! stop ignoring me before one of those things change!’ Missions still came in, unsteady but they did come in.

“Maybe I should get a real job, part time.” You mumbled to yourself while you stared at the TV. Everyone you ever knew had distanced themselves or been snapped, maybe getting out would be good… people have been starting to expect that this is life, ‘maybe thanos was right my gym has been less crowded lately!’ Kinda people, jokes that might not be jokes anymore.

You still think about it, maybe he was right. It was horrible, you know. So many people lost and yet you didn’t lose anyone significant, Bucky of course but you were only just starting to get to know him… Steve maybe but you could still see him, feel him breathe, he didn’t get snapped. He was just distance, like he wished he did get snapped…

Witch hurt…

You didn’t have a family, friends outside of the avengers, hell you never had a boyfriend before Steve. How could you? Caged and trained like a dog, feed needles and pills like food. Given faces and names to quietly kill, you never had your own name till the avengers… Y/N… it was a nice name though. you named yourself off the first person you ever killed, you didn’t know if they would ever have agreed but they were dead… so it didn’t matter.

Steve and therapy, You remembered. Keep breathing don’t think about it. Or maybe it was think about it regret is good? Your therapist had been snapped so it’s been a while. The police called you once in and while about cases. Maybe answering back wouldn’t suck? You were lonely and bored, nothing to do then unsteady mission that lacked any sort of life.

Grabbing your phone you called a man. He was your contact to the police, you could never remember titles or anything like that but he was pretty high up.

“Thank god you called, you use to be so active I was starting to worry you got snapped too.” He joked, people cope with humor, you know that. Still, it irritated you that you and your friends put your life on the line and failed only to be joked about by people who didn’t know anything. Nevertheless, you gritted your teeth and held your tongue. “More and more people are disappearing. We think it may be an aftershock effect of some kind.”

“I doubt it.” You mumbled to yourself, he didn’t hear you and went on about the investigation. A group of people who agreed with Thanos’s ideals has been here and there, left and right. They think a select group talking it too far and hurting or making more people disappear. That sounded more likely, he told you about peoples corpses. Looked like they had been shot with high power lasers, or they’re heads have been smashed in. They had a certain person in custody, maybe if you worked with them you could find a way to undo the snap? That’s what the officer proposed anyway. You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, you would be their for the interview is what you told them.

You should call Steve. This looked like such an important case, he had to know people were making more people disappear… it could lead to something. He would want to know.

So you did call him. He didn’t answer, instead you were greeted by the all so familiar call after the beep speech. It was nicer then actually speaking to him nowadays, though. “Heya, it’s Steve. Leave a uh… voicemail..? After the beep? Did I do that right?” You’d hear him call to someone in the background, “yeah, other then forgetting what a voicemail was called.” You heard your own distant voice greet you, “Steve you have to-“ you were the last thing you hear as the beep signalled the end of the recorded ‘can’t get to you’ message.

A sigh left you when you realized you’d have to speak now, “Hey Steve, the police called me and they have a case of more disappearing people. A group of Thanos supporters popped up making even more people disappear.” You paused, “I think it’s something you’ll be interested in, might lead to something, heh… listen, I miss you, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I… can’t…” your voice trailed off, you breathed in deciding not to do this over a call. “Anyway, call me when you get this. Can’t make it too long.”

That’s right. You couldn’t keep the police waiting… So you grabbed your bag and left. Off to the police station.“Hey, we put the suspect in the interrogation room.” The man spoke, he opened the door to a standard interrogation room. Blue walls, four barely cushioned chairs and a table in the middle closet to a wall. The suspect looked like a regular man. You frowned.

This all felt too… cultish? It made you uncomfortable, the look in his eye. He looked at you like you were a god among men.

#homelander #homelander x reader #steve rogers #captain america x Reader #cross over #avengers endgame #the avengers #the seven #the boys #marvel

[jellyvibes710]

2024 has approached and has smacked me in the face, where the hell the new year come from??

Anyways, my drawings this year 😎

The first three are from an eddsworld comic I'm working on, I decided to pick up a pencil after about two years without drawing and it became a side project, it's hard to believe that a small (well, not very small) project lead me to all this 👀💙💜❤️🧡

I can't believe the improvement over a year, that's insane.

I just wanted to thank you guys for helping me find the motivation to start drawing again, I never thought I'd come so far and honestly I can't thank you guys enough, I'm awful with words but thank you thank you thank you.

Especially special thanks to @abbeyofcyn @skylabrea @wandering-ghost @the-fluidiest-gender @ilivelikeimtrying (I really hope I didn't forget anybody, I'm bad with names ahhhh) you all helped me in more ways than I can count and I'm grateful to have you guys in my life 🫂

For once in a long time I'm looking forward to what's ahead, admittedly bad start but I'm still looking forward to what's to come, so to start off a new year I figured I'll show you all what's to come after little baby blue is complete

Spoilers ;]

The first drawings of this year too

Originally I wanted to do a future au that focused on Casey Jr and his life in the apocalypse, but little baby blue was created instead and being honest, I thought about it for like two days then jumped right in because I got excited, so the first few parts up till recently have been completely off the top of my head, I have everything planned, every detail, I got scripts and future parts sketched out as rough drafts, I have Playlists for future animations, I planned everything but the very very beginning, so oops.

But LAST HOPE AU will be a prequel to little baby blue, everything in little baby blue will link back and connect with last hope and vice versa, there has already been hints and foreshadowing in little baby blue that tie in with last hope, events that have happened in Casey's timeliness have already started to appear, just not in the way it had in his time. Everything will tie together in a neat little bow hehe.

We do get small snippets of Casey's past in Little Baby Blue but the story mainly focuses on leo and his brothers. Last Hope is dedicated to Casey Jr and his story that lead to the events of LBB.

A small bit of detail of the characters Casey mainly interacts with

Donnie makes more than just guns with his ninpo as you can see, he saves close combat weapons for his most bloodlust of days, especially when his family gets hurt. His hands are scarred from building the best tech he can with what little he's got, all his family wears this specially designed tech because out of everybody he wants to keep his dum dum brother's, April and Cassandra alive the most. He has the base in heavy lockdown and has strict system when it comes to missions that him and leo enforced to ensure maximum survival, donnie is cold blooded and fierce and only allows his family into his tech room that's heavily secured. When Casey Jr is born Donnies "emotionally unavailable" image gets turned to dust and genuinely gets excited when it's his turn to watch Jr, it's the only time he's actively away from his tech and security systems is to watch Casey Jr but he doesn't worry about it because if he's not there S.H.E.L.D.O.N. is on watch and notifies donnie when it's an emergency or something important, once Jr is old enough he allows Casey into his tech room and teaches Casey about how his tech works and how it operates.

Mikey never reaches his old man stage, only being 40 when the events of the movie take place. This is mainly due to the fact that he never learned how to cure kraang infected survivors, once someone is infected they couldn't be saved. He's at his most powerful protecting those closest to him and is still the main cook, him and donnie are the last line of defense if the base is ever attacked. He's the most connected to their family ninpo, him and leo work together to try and reawaken Leo's powers and were actually successful until leo lost his arm, he could never find out what had Leo's ninpo in a chokehold. Him and Casey have an entire room dedicated to wall art and often when mikey watches Casey they need to bathe all the paint off him afterwards, It's the only room full of color and is open to everyone to sit and enjoy the colors.

Raph is big, angry, intimating and powerful, but he is the kindest heart you'll find in the turtle group. Him and Cassandra go on missions together most of the times and he took her passing the hardest, he was a father figure to Casey Jr and despite being the biggest turtle he was the most gentle with Jr. He passed suddenly but died protecting those he loved most. Mikey talks with raph A lot after his death and donnie chimes in from time to time but unfortunately leo is unable to reach raph but knows he's there.

Leo is the leader of the resistance, he's looked up too as much as he's looked down upon, he doesn't take kindly to insults about his family and will put you in your place if one is threatened. He bugs Donnie a lot and try to do their traditional twin night as often as they can, along with being leader of the resistance he also helps Mikey cook, he helps Raph make clothes, and helps Donnie with security, he doesn't have time to watch Casey but always keeps an eye on him, sometimes when dee and Leo have twin nights they bring Casey with, after Leo loses his arm Casey is attached to his hip and after Raphs death Leo takes Casey under his wing and teaches him everything he needs to know to survive.

Cassandra is the mother of Casey Jr, she’s crazy fearless and insanely strong for being human. Even when she was pregnant she was trying to kick kraang butts, after Jr was born she settled down for a few months with April at her side who was teaching her how to properly handle an infant. After those few months though she was right back to her crazed energy and fighting spirit, she took it upon herself to teach the other mothers how to fight off kraang while protecting their kids, one example is kicking kraang face while burping child. Multitasking at its finest. She was in her sons life till he was 3 1/2 years old and she tragically lost her life, we will witness how she lost her life in little baby blue through one of the flashbacks Casey has and it’ll also be in last hope, sadly Casey was there to witness his mother’s final moments.

The one, the only, April O’Neal! Commander and right hand lady of the resistance, she’s always around the base trying her best to help lessen the load on Leo’s shoulders while still trying to be her bubbly self. She’s mostly helping her mother out in the medbay though and was there to help save Leo’s life multiple times, always followed by treating the soft shells wounds shortly after his freak outs. She’s not very well trained in medicine but her mother and Leo have taught her most of the basics knowledge for when she’s in battle and is needed. She is one of the few that survives till the events of the movie

I look forward to what's coming in little baby blue, and for what's to come in LAST HOPE. I hope you all are as excited as I am hehehe

There is WAY, W A Y more details and story but I don't want to spoil the whole thing ;]

Also as a bonus, if anyone is interested or just curious, l'll answer any questions either regarding little baby blue or last hope. Though depending on the question you may get spoilers, you've been warned 🫡

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt mikey #rise fanart #rottmnt raph #rise of the tmnt #little baby blue au #last hope au #future donatello #future mikey #future april #future leo #future raph #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt cassandra jones

[delightfulfics]

Swear Jar (Reader x Steve x Tony)

A/N: SUPRISE! hello everybody! i have been gone way too long! i just started college so I have not had time but tonight I was feeling motivated to finish this fic that has been in my drafts since forever! this fic was inspired by “the douche jar” in one of my favorite television series, new girl. if none of you have not seen it I would recommend it since it is hilarious and super addictive comedy to binge watch.

warnings: swearing/curse words

“Oh shit!”

“Y/N!”

Your head shot up from the place in your book and faced the voice in which was Tony’s.

“What?”

“Jar. Now.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes and reached into the pocket of your jeans. Pulling out a dollar, you got out of your chair and walked over sluggishly to where the jar was, dropping the dollar and pushing it in with the others.

“You would not have to do that kid if you just watched that mouth of yours. You are lucky it was me and not Steve that heard that.”

This was so fucking stupid. You hated that stupid jar. Over the years both Steve and Tony had been on your ass about your cussing but last week Tony had came up with an idea on how to bring down your habit of swearing by making the “Swear Jar”. Anytime anyone in the compound (whether that be Thor, Steve, Tony, Peter and so on) hears you swear you are forced to put a dollar in the jar. Sometimes when you don’t Jarvis always ends up snitching on you and you are forced to put twice the amount you are expected to put in (thanks to Tony).

“You both are sooo god damn old,” you say under your breath and head towards the door.

“Excuse me?”

You stop a few feet away the door and turn towards Tony with his arms crossed, “I mean, I don’t even understand why this stupid jar is even a thing.”

“You should not be swearing as much as you do, Y/N,” a figure states and you don’t even have to turn around to know it is Steve.

You sigh, roll your eyes and make no move to turn towards Steve. “Why do you guys care so much?”

“It is not healthy how much you swear.”

You turn towards Steve with a cold glare in your eye, “It is the way I cope with all the stress that going on. It’s like a relief. I mean can’t I just let off steam?”

“No,” they both say in union.

“I hope you know, Y/N, that there are many other ways to blow off steam besides having that sailor mouth fly.”

“Well, trust me, I have tried,” you turn your back around towards Tony and gritted your teeth, “but, nothing ever works.”

“I’m sure you can find something, kid.”

Ignoring the comment you huffed and chuckled to yourself, “I hope both of you gentlemen know that this stupid jar is not gonna do anything.”

It has been a month of using the jar and now that Steve thought about it you haven’t been really making any progress.

“You know they are right, Cap.”

“Yeah I know, Tony,” Steve sighed heavily and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, thinking.

“You both should just give up at this point.”

“Who says we are giving up? We might have an idea on how to get you to stop.”

Steve froze, removed his hand from his face and started chuckling making you look at Tony in confusion, “Oh, I think I know exactly how.”

“Oh, really Capsicle? How so?”

“Tony. Grab them.”

“Grab th- wait-“ Tony didn’t hesitate and wrapped his arms around you tightly, securing your arms to your sides with your feet hanging just above the ground. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Tony whispered in your ear.

Steve stalks towards you and stands right in front of you with his arms crossed and smiles sweetly at you.

“What?!” you yell at him, your nerves getting the best of you.

Steve looks at Tony, “Give them to me, Tony.”

“Wait-“ you say, and squeal as Tony tosses you to Steve. He grabs you and starts to carry you bride style, walking over to the couch. “What the hell is going on!” Steve sits down on the couch with you still in his arms and glances at you.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Cap?”

“Count how much money is in the swear jar please,” he says look directly at you as he asks the question.

You don’t put up a fight because you had the feeling if you were, it would result in even more trouble for you.

“It’s about 10 dollars Cap,” he says smiling.

Why was he smiling? Your heart started to pick up, nervous on what their plan was.

“So, should I do one minute or ten minutes?” Steve asks.

“Start off with one.”

“What are you guys talking about?! You’re scaring me!” you look at Steve with confusion in your eyes, pleading him to tell you what’s going on.

“Well,” he says as he grabs your hands, “remember when you were younger?” he starts to slowly raise your arms above your head and tighten his hold on you.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he was about to do. You immediately start to squirm. “Oh hell no!”

“Make that two,” Tony adds.

Steve smiles at your squirming figure, “Sweetheart,” he leans close to your ear, “You’re not going anywhere,” he starts to wiggle his fingers slowly into your armpits.

You start to giggle and move your head towards your armpit, blocking it from his devilish fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve tsks, and shoves his head into the other side of your neck, rubbing his stubble into your neck.

“NO!” you start to cackle, remembering that this was what he would do to you as a kid all the time. Every-time you misbehaved he would pick you up and rub his beard into your neck, knowing that it could easy reduce you into giggles. “Steve, stop!”

He laughs at your shrieks, making it even more ticklish with the vibrations. He lifts up his head and stops tickling your armpits but still keeps your arms pinned. “How much time we got left?”

“A minute and a half,” Tony says teasingly and looks directly at you and you glare back at him.

“Perfect!” He moves his hand right above your stomach, slowly curling it, watching you as your eyes widen in panic.

“Steve!” He smiles at you and starts to wiggle his fingers, lowering his hand towards your most ticklish spot.

“I can’t control it, Y/N. I have been taken over!” He dramatically states and darts his hand on your stomach, making you yell but you don’t feel him move his hand. You look at him in confusion. He smiles wide and stares at you in silence.

“Stev-“ he finally attacks, using his hand to claw into the middle of your stomach, vibrating his hand making you throw your head back and scream-laugh.

“Wow. I’ve never seen the kid scream like that! That’s new!”

“SHUT UP!” you yell at Tony.

Steve gasps, “How dare you?!”

Tony walks over to you still cackling with laughter as Steve scribbles his hand all over your stomach and your sides. He stands over you and puts his hand over his heart, “Ouch, Y/N, that stings”

“Wanna join, Tony?” Steve looks at Tony and smirks.

“See, I wasn’t going to but not that you insulted me like that now, I have to!” He throws his hands up dramatically and huffs.

You feel Steve let go off your arms and stops tickling you. You let out a deep breath but soon you feel Tony grab you and throw you over his shoulder.

“Where are you most ticklish?” Tony asks and looks at you upside down.

“I’m not saying shit!” you yell.

Tony sighs, “Well I guess i’m gonna have to figure it out!” he then starts to claw his hand into your stomach, scrubbing his fingers all over, making you squeal and try to squirm but it’s impossible especially with you on his shoulder. “Why are you laughing so much?!” You cackle as he starts to squeeze your sides fast and quickly, making your body jolt with each squeeze.

“TONY!”

He smiles at you, “Yes, booger?”

“PLEASEEE!” you giggle, feeling his hands start to claw into your stomach like Steve had done minutes ago.

“Please what?”

“PLEASE STOP!”

Steve stands in front of you two, smiling down at your giggling figure, “Are you sorry?”

“YES! IM SORRY!”

“Hmm,” Tony starts to slow down the tickling, lightly poking your sides and stomach making you squeal and giggle, “I don’t know Steve if she learned their lesson.”

“I know something that will make her think twice before swearing again,” he smirks at you. Tony paused tickling you and took him off your shoulder and handing you back to Steve. He carried you bride-style again and looked at you smiling, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head again but slowly lifting your shirt with the other.

“No! No! No!” you start to squirm violently in his arms, “Please!”

Steve lifts your top up and starts to lower his head to your stomach, his breath making you giggle slightly, “Let me think about that… how about no!” He then blows a massive raspberry on your stomach, shaking his head to ensure you feel his stubble.

You scream very loud and laugh very hard, throwing your head back with tears in your eyes. “STEVE!” You start to hiccup as you feel him give you another raspberry, nibbling your skin lightly and rubbing his stubble on your sensitive skin.

He hears that you start to hiccup so he stop as you soon start to have silent laughter. “Okay, okay,” he releases your arms and lifts you up into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you close. He looks at you, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, still giggling from the attack. Tony sits back you and smiles at you, putting your hair behind your ear, “You sure you’re okay, kid?”

“Yeah i’m okay,” you smile at them. “I’m sorry for swearing, I’ll try to tone it down I guess.”

You squeak as you feel a poke to your side and look at Tony, smiling at you and pointing at you accusingly, “You better,” he gets up and leaves you and Steve alone.

“I’m glad that I could see that smile and laugh of yours,” you blush at Steve’s comment.

“Me too,” you look at him and smile.

“You promise to not swear as much right?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised with his pinky out. A pinky promise. You smiled at the previous memory of you and Steve making pinky promises to each other. Like when he would leave for missions, you would make me do a pinky promise to come back home.

You look at him and hook your pinky’s together, “I promise, Steve,” you smile at him.

“Good, because I will not hesitate to do that again,” he playfully threatens you.

“I know, old man,” you giggle.

You feel the air get tense as soon as you called him that. You turned towards him and saw a shine in his eyes which was never good.

“What did you just call me?”

“Uh oh,” you say and get up quickly, running away from him.

You knew that he would get you back but you didn’t care. After all, you loved to push his buttons even if it meant that he would be chasing you around the compound for a while. You have never been happier and you wouldn’t change a single thing.

#ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!tony #ler!steve #ticklefic

[inalignment]

GET OUR SH*T TOGETHER IN 2024

If you are someone like me and you have been slacking in the self department in 2023 join me and we can do it together! <3

I have been drafting up for the last couple of days some tips and tricks that I feel will help me and hopefully you too :)

Firstly I want to say that glowing up or trying to work for the better version of you can be manageable, by starting small and building the certain habits that you feel will suit you, at first it doesn't even have to cost money or a lot of your time, however it does require a lot of discipline and patience with yourself.

Journaling

How does Journaling help?

Journaling helps you understand your emotional reactions more clearly, and puts you in control of your emotions instead of the other way around.

Meaning that through this you will be able to figure out the things you might feel might be harder for you at the beginning, its important not to rush this progress.

2. Routine

I know everybody often talks about this topic, and often times no one talks about how hard the adjusting period actually is, it is hard to change everything or even a small significant thing around you especially when you've been getting used to not having such an active life or perhaps some of us feel additionally on top of our other lifestyle arrangements to add ourselves on top is too much which takes me to my next point which is time blocking.

3. Time Blocking

Time blocking is the process of breaking your schedule down into individual blocks of time  it can be a great way to increase focus and productivity. I usually do this in 3 steps

Choose in advance what to work on. (I usually do it 2 nights or the night before)

Decide when to tackle priority tasks, this can be done in whichever interval you would like, I usually do it hourly.

Block off a chunk of time on your calendar for each task.

Now that we have the 3 basics down, we can create the routine we want to and implement the goals we wish to achieve:

BODY

In 2024 I certainly and Im sure alot of us have certain gym goals that we would like to achieve, this in turn working out has great benefit not only to your body but also your mental health over time. Even 30 minutes a day will make a big impact especially at the beginning if you are someone like me who hates the gym at the beginning but feel great afterwards, try to start small, a small walk, a small 10 minute YouTube video work out and slowly add more time as more weeks go by.

SKINCARE

One of my biggest goal is definitely towards my skin.

Its important to get out of the habit of not washing or being gentle with your skin, whatever you do one thing i will always say to prioritise is moisturising, MOISTURISE, MOISTURISE!

I have had acne and bad skin since I was a teenager no matter what I've put on my face from retinoids, to all these different creams and acids one thing I will ALWAYS say makes all the difference now and even long term is keeping your skin hydrated and wearing sunscreen, you can even get a 2 in 1 moisturiser and sun cream.

CLOTHES

Basics will be the way to go, if you're looking to investing into a new wardrobe in 2024 one thing my mother and over time i have learned that basics will never run out of fashion its the accessories that you'll need to put an extra time and eye on, a bag, jewellery, coats, sunglasses, focus on certain things that will bring out a staple to your outfit.

BONUS

I am of course adding manifestation and the songs, reprograming your thinking into this as a bonus, this is for the ones that want to either practice this or already do BUT I feel that making your affirmation playlist/ song will work better at time rather than the ones on youtube, don't get me wrong subliminal on YT they do work but if you were to make it yourself it has that extra pull. I made my own about a month ago and it has been working great for me.

Additionally I would also like to mention the importance of paying more attention to the songs and the words you listen to, the things you watch on social media, not everything has to be consumed, either a social media cleanse or trying to change your algorithm I feel is a key when it comes to wanting to grow within one self.

GRATITUDE

When you journal, try to leave a section at the end of the day for the things you feel grateful, i promise, try it for a week, it'll change your life.

Andddd that's it for now! If anyone else has any tips and tricks please drop them in the comments! Lets help each other by also reposting this <333

#acne #2024 #makeup #natural hair #glow up #becoming that girl #growth #women #mua #ootdinspiration #fashion #skincare routine #skincare tips #law of attraction #manifestation #gym routine #morning routine #night routine #self improvement #self healing #self care #self gratitude #grattitude

[monbons]

an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

thanks for tagging me @bookish-bogwitch, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, and @noblecorgi!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s): Currently, living, breathing, and eating my one and only WIP: The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch. Also, I am probably retiring after this fic because I do not think I can top it!

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___” Addie LaRue + SnowBaz = so much pain and angst

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it? Period-typical homophobia, Implied/referenced DV, Blood and Injury, Death... I mean truly the works. This is SnowBaz in the darkest possible timeline.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)? At one point, I joked with @thewholelemon about naming it "Baz Pitch's 300 Year Long Grope-Fest" but for obvious reasons that title would really do a disservice to this fic (although it is sort of true).

5. ⚠️Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next? Now that I've created a posting schedule for The Eternal Life of Baz Pitch, I want to stick to it. While I'm "done" drafting, I am still making a few big revisions to the last six chapters. I've also been re-reading the first chapters for continuity issues that may have cropped up now that I know how this ends. Either way, I can see the finish line.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as) It started out as "Addie LaRue Working Draft." Once the one doc got unwieldy and long, it spun out into multiple docs titled all sorts of things - mostly chapter numbers, but I do have one not as fun as it sounds doc called "Sex Playground." (ha!)

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP. “Are you so naive as to think I cannot watch you whenever it pleases me, even if you cannot see me?”

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP. I actually have SEVERAL scenes I scrapped...like pages and pages! Largely this is because I have a whole document titled "Voice," which served as a sandbox of sorts where I could play with every possible combination of POV, tone, and style before committing to the final version you see in the story now. There's even a scene in there told first-person Niall! (Bonkers.)

I also have a whole ACTUAL scene I'd love to include as an answer to this question because it was well-written, but I cut it because it made the plot unnecessarily complicated, was frankly too close to the original plot of Addie, and would have made my ending impossible. It is also--sadly--too big a spoiler to include here, so let me give you a few sentences from "Sex Playground" that will not be making the cut:

“Stay.” Baz pushes his hand into the center of Simon’s chest, pressing him back into the mattress. “I want to look at you.” Simon gives Baz a filthy smile. He can look all he wants. 

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet? I really want to write a canon divergence where Simon successfully but somewhat accidentally reveals Baz is a vampire fifth year, so Baz and the whole Pitch family have to flee from the Mage. I already have the "everybody finds out" scene written and the scene where the Mage realizes the Pitch family is gone, so I guess I have started it. But, I also have no idea where it's going or what it's about, so I haven't really accomplished anything. If anyone has ideas or wants to be a partner-in-crime on this, give me a little shout!

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on? Literally just this one. Again, I am retiring after this fic! (Or at least taking a very well-deserved break.)

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now? Absolutely 100% it is writing the smut. Having never written any on-page sex means I'm figuring it out as I go. Lots of frustrated growls from me (not nearly as frustrated from Simon).

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send. I know many of you have already posted, but tagging anyway since you've commented/liked past WIPsdays and such, in case you're interested in the behind the scenes!

@valeffelees, @roomwithanopenfire, @noblecorgi, @cutestkilla, @iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @drowninginships, @emeryhall, @hushed-chorus, @rimeswithpurple, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @artsyunderstudy, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

#tag game #writers asks #the eternal life of baz pitch #carry on #i really wish i could share all the things but part of the joy of this story is the slow reveal #feel free to ask me again once it's all done!

[devilsskettle]

this has been sitting in my drafts for a while because i didn’t feel like being a hater but now i do so:

with all the talk about the glass onion and the menu and vapid “eat the rich” blockbuster movies, i did finally get around to watching some of them, and i have to say about the menu - people have said that it has nothing to say, but it actually has a very clear message! it asks its viewers point blank, “don’t you want your art to be easily consumable?” it’s this:

this is the point. why would you want something new and innovative? that’s pretentious. why can’t you just shut up and eat your fucking mcdonalds

to be fair i would totally fuck up that burger but like. it’s not about the food lol

i mean of course this isn’t about food! it isn’t about the food industry at all. there is nothing specific to that in any way. actually, nothing in the film is specific. all of the characters are just there, bodies in chairs, vague ideas of rich people you don’t like.... in theory. on principal. archetypes that are easy to hate and therefore need no development. and who do we have? a food critic who is actually a stand in for any art critic (of course, we hate art critics! so pretentious. ruining lives by doing their jobs of assessing how well other professionals in their field do their jobs. people in the film industry have no stake in making critics look bad, of course, we just hate them for.... being too verbose. yeah totally). her publisher, enabling her by publishing a magazine about food that she writes for. evil just evil. some.... guys? business guys? generic assholes. an actor? for some reason there’s an actor here. and his.... assistant? who went to college which is evil. two random old people. and a guy who is just really enthusiastic. what are we talking about!!! they don’t even know. but what they really want to say is this, not about food, but about art in general:

“you can’t sit and enjoy something AND think about it. don’t you hate those long boring pretentious intellectual films? everybody is just pretending to like them to make themselves seem smarter. you want the same big blockbuster from a big name studio that you can just turn your mind off while watching and that’s better than anyone trying to do anything different and they’d be happier if they just gave up and succumbed to simple shit with broad appeal” like please. the “let people enjoy things” attitude is so insidious. and do not come over here telling me i’m reading too much into it and it’s not about the film industry! for real, do not be that dense 

anyway. also apparently this guy was soooo much happier being a cook at a fast food place than being a successful chef with total creative control. writers really telling on themselves that they’ve never had a shitty food service job before. you think anybody wants to be there? there are problems across the board in restaurant culture, high and low brow, but come on lmao 

and the last scene..... they were trying so hard to be ready or not. you will never be ready or not 

#the menu #anyway i'm sorry to anya taylor joy but she was so immediately unlikable in this movie #even though you could tell that the writers were trying so hard to make her likable

[horanghater]

Ad Nauseam

Summary: Wonwoo desires to herald in a new age of technology, but summons a monstrous deity instead.

▸ Pairing: Wonwoo x gn!oc (but it doesn’t really matter tbh)

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / horror, angst / 1900s au If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: violence (adults + children), light gore (not graphic, but descriptions related to meat processing), major character death

▸ Word Count: 3.6k

▸ A/N: This was inspired by Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs. It may not be the most popular entry, but it's the one that stuck with me the most so far in the series. I wrote the original version of this literally years ago, but did a slight rewrite so I could put it back out there. GIGANTIC thank yous to @onlymingyus and @wonwussy for beta reading and helping me clean the draft up after my eyes totally glazed over!! I apologize in advance for anyone that may be upset by this story. Know that some members' ages have been flipped and it's going to be rough for everybody involved. You've been warned. ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Mid November, 1899

“The industry is changing you,” Minghao says, standing as he stacks a pile of papers and files them into a folder.

Wonwoo smiles tiredly and looks up at Minghao from the other side of the desk, where he sits. “That’s alright as long as we change the future.”

Late February, 1900

“No, Wonwoo, this is you,” Teddy spits, wringing their hands on their slacks. 

The room smells like copper, and young Seungkwan weeps in the corner while even younger Chan sits next to him, stone face turned to the floor and bandaged hands balled.

Teddy and Wonwoo had lost plenty of people in the making, in the maintenance of The Machine. They’d both known the risks beforehand, and Teddy had reservations about bringing in children, but they needed the cheap labor, and Wonwoo had promised they’d never lose their children. Their boys. The only children the orphanage would let two odd industrialists near because it was considered a victory to just be rid of the adolescents by the time they’d become old enough to bully and fight. 

“He…” Wonwoo can’t meet Teddy’s eyes. He fixes his gaze on the window behind his partner instead. “Hansol wasn’t ours or mine.” Hansol was simply the boy that would not go home, that chose to sleep in alcoves among the machinery. Wonwoo can barely swallow his sentence, and the saliva that gathers in his mouth tastes like soot.

Seungkwan wails so loudly that for once, Wonwoo can’t hear the drone of engines in the back of his mind. He hates it.

Teddy moves to pick their children up from the floor, motions too smooth and slow. They don’t speak until the boys are in their coats, bundled up for the winter cold with oversized scarves and mittens. 

“The factory isn’t anyone’s either. It owns you. It’s changed you.”

Wonwoo knows his lover is right. He’s known for years, long before anyone had ever told him.

Mid August, 1899

The first time had been an accident. Wonwoo is certain that all the children had collected their payment and gone home for the evening. Teddy has a strict 7pm rule to ensure that they would not be wandering about at night and causing trouble. 

Wonwoo is certain.

The Machine is deafening. Over 13,000 pieces of nearly autonomous metal spanning throughout 8 floors of basement work to process meat for the masses. 

Wonwoo is absolutely positive that the children under their employ have retired for the evening, so, like clockwork, he cranks the furnace’s dial up and pulls the lever that opens the floodgates to clean the blood and marrow from the massive pipes of The Machine.

Hansol approaches him the next day in his office, smelling of oil and sweat. “Sir, may I have the day off?”

Wonwoo places his reservoir pen on the desk and stands to stretch. “What’s the matter, Hansol?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” the boy explains. 

“It’s amazing you sleep any night, laying about in the factory.”

Hansol is the type to grin awkwardly and offer a weak excuse, but today he can only shift uncomfortably. “I don’t know; it just sounded like someone kept screaming.”

At this, Wonwoo frowns. Despite having a home life that drives him to remain within the bowels of machinery, Hansol is a rather easygoing child. He definitely isn’t one for night terrors or hallucinations. Perhaps he’d snuck into Chan and Seungkwan’s room to exchange ghost stories again.

Nonetheless, Hansol looks haggard, and his odor is starting Wonwoo on one of his many migraines. “It’s been...three? Four days by now? Go upstairs and bathe - do not talk back to me. Wash yourself and stay out of trouble today.”

That evening, Wonwoo reminds his children that their bedtime is not optional and that while Hansol may not carry their last name, he’s treated as if he does. When they’re tucked in, Teddy stops Wonwoo in the hallway to tell him that four of the boys who worked for them hadn’t shown up for work that day or returned to their families the evening before.

They are never found. Hansol does not complain about nightmares for months.

Wonwoo can hear cogs whining in the section where skeletal remains are crushed. Among the scraps are bones too big to be pigs', slowing down the humming that had become his lullaby some time ago.

Early October, 1899

Teddy does not care much for the engineer Wonwoo hired to oversee the construction of a new grinder. He is too well spoken, too charming, too close to Teddy’s most prized treasure. But Minghao is smarter and has smaller hands that can move nimbly between the complicated maze of wire and metal when The Machine aches.

Wonwoo had been unable to soothe The Machine when it cried for weeks. Nothing he did made it stop, and Teddy said he was hearing things. When Wonwoo reached out to old acquaintances for useful contacts, they referred him to a brilliant mind from China that had been to Britain to have a firsthand look at how humanity could marry machinery to ease everyday production.

The rumors about Minghao are more than true. Wonwoo wonders if the man can hear the pleas of The Machine as loudly as he does, if he can hear it singing to him in his sleep.

Hansol only hears pained howling. Like clockwork every other night.

Wonwoo gives him tea and sends him off to bathe. It doesn’t take long for him to notice that the nights Hansol loses sleep are the nights The Machine doesn’t make a sound.

It doesn’t take long for Minghao to notice, either.

Early December, 1899

Minghao breaches the subject when he’s accompanying Wonwoo on his rounds of the bottom four floors. 

“Mr. Jeon, have you thought about other methods to power the factory?”

Wonwoo looks up from his clipboard. “Is what we have not sufficient?” Of course it isn’t. Every time a child went missing, Teddy would pace about their bedroom and fuss. After twelve disappearances, they insisted that the two of them switch their patrols: Teddy would oversee The Machine’s top floors, where most of the children worked, while Wonwoo oversaw the bottom. It didn’t placate Teddy’s worries by any means, but it was the best compromise that Wonwoo would concede to. At least they could finally do a proper attendance count. 

Minghao presses on, apparently unswayed by a polite demeanor and easy posture. “I’m sure your profits are plenty by now, but if this factory were to switch completely to steam power--”

“I’m not so greedy as to put youth out of work. I… My family is doing fine. Everyone is fine. We don’t need more money.” Wonwoo pushes thick spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. The Machine is sniffling next to his eardrums.

Minghao can see a vein on Wonwoo’s forehead. His default, calm expression is falling into exhaustion. “This town looks like it could use plenty of farmhands. I’m sure kids’d make better use of crops than a few nickels.” 

Wonwoo has to tell himself not to yell over The Machine. It’s gotten unbearably louder in seconds. Perhaps Minghao cannot hear it after all. “The people need this factory, Minghao.”

“No, it’s the factory that needs the people.” 

The Machine screeches, and Wonwoo panics. Weren’t the grinders supposed to be floors above them? He doesn’t have time to question it or what’s making him rush the shorter man, not with his ears ringing from the agony of noise. 

Wonwoo lets go of Minghao’s jacket just inches before his fingers touch the blades. He hopes Hansol doesn’t seek him out tomorrow, talking about shrieking. He’ll have enough to deal with trying to convince Teddy that the blood on his shirt is his own.

Teddy does not care much for Minghao, but they’re unsettled when they ask about the man’s whereabouts and Wonwoo shrugs absently. 

“He had to leave suddenly.”

January 3, 1900

The Machine has stopped screeching in Wonwoo’s ears since it was last fed. Knowledge, it wanted. Blueprints. 

Hansol falls asleep alone and wakes beneath pistons to the stench of foul water. 

Wonwoo allows Seungkwan to shadow him as he goes about tending to The Machine. Chan hasn’t much interest in going, preferring to follow Teddy on expeditions into town to procure more laborers.

Seungkwan asks many questions. “What does this machine do?”

“Didn’t so-and-so work on this floor once?”

“How do you turn this on?”

Wonwoo doesn’t notice the absence of small footsteps until The Machine sighs. When he turns around to address his son, no one is there. A door is shut behind him. He squints at Minghao’s copy of The Machine’s map. They should have been just beyond the grinders. What door is this?

Wonwoo sweats before he even breaks out into a run.

In his rush to find Seungkwan, Wonwoo nearly trips over the guardrails that separate him from an abysmal plunge into machinery. When he returns upstairs sobbing, Teddy is speechless only long enough to figure out the intercom console and plead for their son not to wander aimlessly but to follow the pipes up and out.

Teddy doesn’t talk to Wonwoo. Wonwoo does not eat. Four agonizing days pass before Seungkwan wanders into the study, covered with the same filth Hansol often wears. Teddy holds him tightly, and Wonwoo is frozen, having seen a peculiar flash in Seungkwan’s eyes that only the sickly dim lights in The Machine’s sewers can match.

Late January, 1900

Seungkwan has lost weight since the incident, but doctors can’t find any illness. He looks tired, more so than his overworked parents. He is on indefinite bedrest, and Hansol visits daily.

The young squatter is already there one evening when Wonwoo enters the children's room with snacks from the local bakery. “Ah, Hansol.”

Hansol rises and greets Wonwoo, but all that Wonwoo hears is The Machine. Spare them the world you have created, it says.

“Mr. Jeon?” Hansol looks worried. “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo blinks and remembers to breathe. “Yes, I’m-” The Machine is grumbling, “I’m alright.” He sets the bag of pastries on Seungkwan’s bedside table and kisses the child’s forehead, making a point not to brush Hansol, who is but a foot away. “Don’t forget your manners because you’re sick, Kwan. Share.”

“Of course, Father,” Seungkwan says as the man withdraws.

Wonwoo tries not to flinch. Spare them.

January 16, 1900

Teddy questions Wonwoo for days.

“Why won’t you look at Seungkwan? You’re hurting him.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you want to move?”

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“You won’t even look at me now?”

“What happened to us? To this family?”

Wonwoo can only hunch over and look away. The Machine speaks through nearly everyone to him. When others talk, they’re far away, while The Machine whispers on top of his eardrums. Chan is the only one he can hear without distraction.

Seungkwan’s voice pleads for the freedom of the masses. Teddy’s warns of disasters humanity will bring. Hansol’s is the worst of all. It bullies him, instructs him, twists his dreams into monstrous things, and in the same breath reminds him it is necessary. It is what they both want.

For weeks, Wonwoo has seen Hansol standing at the edge of catwalks. He’s seen the juvenile’s eyes among the bones of pigs and sacrifice. His young, growing arms help him swim through a sea that Hansol’s ghost says is made of the blood of swine. Some nights he dreams of Hansol’s hands pushing small bodies over railings and burying fractured skulls in the woods on the edge of town.

He does not see the boy, only the apparition of an atrocity.

January 30, 1900

When Wonwoo wakes on the study’s daybed, he nearly screams when he is faced with an apathetic Chan. The boy is kneeling next to the bed in his pajamas. It must be some time in the early hours of the morning.

“You’re loud, Father,” Chan says.

Wonwoo swallows and looks around the room. He does not see Hansol or hear anything speaking over his son. The usual, low hum of The Machine is nothing. “What?” is all the man can manage. 

“You and Hansol,” Chan clarifies. “You speak through your night terrors. Loudly. I can hear you upstairs.”

“What? I… How?”

Chan rolls his eyes. Teddy has been aggravated by this recent addition to Chan’s repertoire of poor manners, but Wonwoo welcomes the humanity of it. “Father, with my ears. I use them to hear.” He scowls. “Even when I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, son,” Wonwoo laughs, ruffling the boy’s hair for the first time in years. “Go back to bed.”

“What about Hansol?”

At this, Wonwoo’s heart beats twice in a second. In his tiredness, he’d overlooked part of Chan’s complaint. Or perhaps it was selective hearing. Perhaps he hears only what The Machine wills him to.

“Where does Hansol sleep?”

If Chan picks up on Wonwoo’s panic, he does not show it. “With me or Kwannie, of course. Every night since December. He said the factory isn’t comfortable anymore - whatever that means. How can he sleep with all the racket in there?”

Wonwoo hears Hansol, hears The Machine. He does not sleep.

February 6, 1900

Wonwoo wishes The Machine would go back to simply calling to him so he could baby it. Now it’s grown and learned to speak more than he can handle. It’s maddening.

“Go upstairs and rest your nerves,” Teddy instructs him. “I’ll check everything tonight.”

The Machine chuckles and cries simultaneously. “N-No. I’ve got it. Let’s patrol like normal.”

Teddy doesn’t miss the recoil in Wonwoo’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, we can...work something out. You can even stay in the bedroom tonight, ok? Just go.”

Hansol and The Machine call Wonwoo from the bowels. “I can’t leave you here,” Wonwoo insists. I will change the walls, It/He warns. We will rewrite this place and then the streets.

“Wonwoo.” Teddy places hands on their love’s shoulders, desperation seeping through their fingertips. “Please.”

It is too late. I live. “No!” Wonwoo snaps. 

Teddy lets their hands fall and looks Wonwoo over. “Your mind is fevered.” Wonwoo has retreated within himself as always and won’t answer. He can’t. “Fine. Check your precious machine.”

I am this city. I am– He/It starts. Wonwoo can feel Teddy’s warmth leaving and quickly grabs at the tail of their jacket. “No, Teddy, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight, really.” I will fix the world with or without you. Make the right choice. “Let me run a bath for when you’ve finished...”

Ignore me all you want, but you cannot ignore what’s coming. Teddy turns and grins, pleased. There’s an ember of hope for their love left within them that Wonwoo feared had long since disappeared. Even if Teddy’s voice is barely there, their perseverance is enough.

You did this. 

February 16, 1900

Listen to your heart. I am your heart. You know you are with me. You created me to save this world. I am your friend.

February 22, 1900

Can’t you see it? We must save this world with blood now to avoid a far greater slaughter in the future.

February 25, 1900

Round up the orphans, and the world will thank you for it. You started this. We can finish it together.

February 28, 1900

Wonwoo awakes to the shrill cries of a pig.

Teddy’s arm is slung around his waist, and they snore lazily, undisturbed. 

The Machine hyperventilates all around him, and the pig squeals pound on him like gunfire. Kill him!

Wonwoo jumps from his bed, knocked from his daze, and barely pulls on a robe as he flees to the basement. The door has changed from wood to steel, but when he rams his body against it, it opens all the same. You are too late! 

Down. Even with The Machine’s innards changing around him, Wonwoo knows to go down. The noise gets impossibly louder, and the mocking does not cease as he descends, but fear propels him. 

Let me save them.

“Don’t kill him! Please!” Wonwoo has to stop and grab his chest. It’s tight and on fire. The pig sounds a lot like Seungkwan now. The Machine sounds like the self-made orphan, yet it feels to Wonwoo as if the voices have been one and the same from the beginning of his nightmare.

He blinks and he is on a single catwalk above the tenderizers. A sea of bodies are crushed beneath them and the bones don’t stop breaking. The crackling sounds like fireworks. Hansol is trying to push a struggling Seungkwan over the railing.

Wonwoo is frozen.

“I will set them free,” The Machine/Hansol says. His/Its voice is clawing at Wonwoo’s insides. “This is what you planned.”

“I never wanted this.” Wonwoo’s throat makes him feel tiny. His eyes water, and his legs want to buckle. All he can see is bodies.

“You wanted to change the future,” Hansol/The Machine reminds him smugly. “It is dirty. You’re all dirty.” It grabs Seungkwan by the neck to still him. “We have to start over. I can purify you all.”

Wonwoo hears war rattling in his skull and feels his body being painted with mustard gas. He wants to vomit, but when he opens his mouth, all he tastes is fetid flesh and maggots on the back of his tongue.

“This is your sacrifice, Wonwoo. I’m just the shepherd to lead you and your world to salvation.”

Seungkwan barely breaks free, wriggling from beneath Hansol’s body, and stumbles toward his father. Finally, Wonwoo can move and reaches with outstretched arms to hug the boy.

But Seungkwan, frightened by something Wonwoo can’t see, stops short of his father’s fingertips. Hansol takes the opportunity to grab the child by the wrist and slam him into the railing. A crunch louder than the tenderizer below rings out alongside Seungkwan’s pained yowl.

“You are misguided, Wonwoo!” The Machine/Hansol exclaims as It pulls Seungkwan back and hurls him into the railing once again, this time face-first. His body slumps in Its arms. Wonwoo hollers, but the sound is lost among the racket. 

“I am no more evil than you! I am you! Of all the blood we’ve spilt together, the first drops were from your hands alone. But when you steeped me in blood, I understood what you wanted. You want what the world needs. You birthed me to help. But to start the world anew, we must first cleanse it of all the filth.”

Hansol shakily hoists Seungkwan up by his chest and manages the unconscious boy halfway over the edge of the catwalk. “This is the vision we shared. We need to make them free.” 

Hansol pushes a final time, and The Machine grunts. Wonwoo scrambles on his hands and knees to close the distance just fast enough to catch a still-limp Seungkwan by his calves, dangling him precariously above peril.

The Machine laughs, and Hansol kicks Wonwoo. Hansol, on his own, is weak. He seems to have become weaker since the man last laid eyes on him. Wonwoo is able to pull Seungkwan up and lay him gently on the ground, ignoring the feather punches to his side and the grating in his mind. 

Hansol/The Machine huffs,, and steam engulfs the area below them. The pulverizers turn into grinders, and the air reeks of salt and congealed blood. Chan’s voice pierces Wonwoo’s consciousness, and he can feel steam burning his son’s hands as if they were his own.

“I am already everywhere. Don’t fight what you created.” 

It doesn’t try to fight as Wonwoo yanks Hansol’s small body up by his tattered collar and shakes him, asking how he could possibly be this cruel. 

“This small thing means nothing to what you’ve built. Be it now or tomorrow, the boy will have to be cleansed as well.” Hansol’s mouth moves as The Machine, but his face is red and blotchy with tears and snot. 

Chan is in agony floors above him.

“My greatest work has already begun, Wonwoo. I will make pigs of you all if I must.”

A door that wasn’t there before bursts open, and Teddy steamrolls in, panicked. Another pig squeals before blood sprays on their robe.

March 3, 1900

Wonwoo hears screaming day and night. Orphans, whores, thieves, It says. No one will miss them.

Teddy has taken their remaining children across the ocean to a young country that dreams of crafting buildings to the sky. 

Even without workers and without Wonwoo’s family, The Machine operates. It prepares cattle for slaughter, as Wonwoo had hoped. Whether it is for people or of people is beyond importance. 

It offers no resistance as Wonwoo enters the lower floors, almost mindless for the first time in two days, not even bothering to shift the walls around him. 

He stops when he reaches the meat grinders and looks down to see the faces of many. He looks up and sees bodies sizzling in the pipes above. 

Only through our work can you ascend to the skies and claim the future as your kingdom.

Wonwoo feels only heat as he climbs over the railing and sets his feet between the massive blades of machinery. 

Bones and ashes sow the seeds of a new future.

Wonwoo does not know of the coming age, he decides. He does not know prophecy from fiction, from nightmares. He is only certain, now, that The Machine is him. Hansol’s body may have had little weight, but surely his own must be invaluable as the Creator.

Be proud, for this is your design. His skin rips like tired leather, and his teeth scatter like mice as he is finally crushed. Everything is finally quiet. It is finally sated. He has found an existence so much more peaceful than this.

#kvanity #svthub #wonwoo #wonwoo x oc #wonwoo angst #svt angst #wonwoo horror #svt horror #wonwoo fic