hunk: hey have you ever thought who shiros favorite is?
lance: oh hunk. oh my hunky honey bear. you do NOT want to know my thoughts on THAT whole situation
hunk: oh boy. ok I’ll bite, who is shiros favorite?
lance: fine you asked for it. it’s pidge.
hunk: …..huh. I would’ve thought you might have said keith.
lance: oh yeah he is too
hunk: ok you lost me
lance: look the way i see it is, pidge is the favorite the way the baby of the family is always the favorite. Keith is like the eldest son, born to take over the family business or whatever.
hunk: alright….so where do we fall in all of this?
lance: well pidge is first with keith running a close second so while keith may not get more desert at the table or get away with murder like pidge does, he’s given more responsibilities and will ultimately gain more of the inheritance. after him comes allura who’s sort of like the hot girl next door shiro has a crush on but he’s too shy to ever ask out. then it’d be you, the cuddly middle child who’s kind of left to his own devices cause your can obviously take care of yourself, then coran, alluras whacky uncle, then the Lions who are the family pets, then me
lance: the other middle child who’s the obnoxious class clown only there to get a cheap laugh out of the audience and kind of just there to make shiro angry or exasperated and give him more personality otherwise he’ll look boring
lance: but then again I’m not the last one anymore cause now slavs in the picture and HE’S the one who makes shiro angry and annoyed…..although, he is a lot smarter than i am and he brings out an even funnier side of shiro so I’m probably still the least favorite…….what were we talking about again?
hunk getting up and hugging lance from behind: lance you know you can always talk to me about stuff right?
lance trying not to tear up: uh yeah hunky bear i know that why wouldn’t i know that
hunk: us ignored middle children need to stick together
I’ve been told to never let go of the person who can fully calm the storm wreaking havoc inside of my body. That’s why I’d have such a difficult time letting you go. Because up until this point in my life there hasn’t been a single person who’s been able to make the waves stop crashing on my heart and mind in a swift heartbeat like you can. One look, one smile, one touch from you and the oceans inside of me become still. I can’t understand why it’s so easy for you and I doubt you even know how much you do for me.
There’s no other way to put this than I’ve never felt good enough for anyone until I met you. I don’t know why and I don’t know how but you just made me feel like I am truly worth something
Okay it’s been a whole day and I’m still angry about that hobbit casting thing, so let’s lay down some Tolkien canon here.
Fact 1: Per Tolkien, there were originally three races of hobbit. The Stoors were a small group, they were broad and stocky, they grew facial hair, they liked rivers, and their skin color is not specified, so Tolkien probably meant them to be white (but there’s no reason they have to be, since again, not specified). The Fallohides were a tiny group, they were thin, pale and tall, they were bold and good with languages, and they like trees. The Harfoots were the distinct majority, they lived in holes, they had hairy feet, and they were brown. Tolkien is super clear on this. He explicitly calls out Harfoots as having browner skin than other hobbits when describing the races and he uses phrases like “nut-brown skin” and “long brown fingers” when describing specific hobbits to back it up.
Fact 2: Britain planted its ravenous imperial flag firmly in the soil of India three centuries before Tolkien wrote The Hobbit. He knew what a brown person looked like. He would know he was not evoking a slightly darker shade of Caucasian when he said a person had brown skin.
Fact 3: Bilbo, Frodo, and all of their friends are aristocracy. Sam is the only hobbit we ever meet who is an actual laborer. In Tolkien’s time, laborers worked in the sun and middle class and aristocracy stayed inside where there was something resembling temperature control. Apart from Sam and Aragorn, no one in the Fellowship (or Company) ever voluntarily got a sunburn. If Tolkien talks about brown skin he’s talking about brown skin, not a farmer’s tan.
Where does this leave us?
Well, Tolkien says that after colonizing the Shire, the three hobbit races mingled more closely and became one. This leaves us with two options.
Option A: He’s talking about that thing that sci-fi writers sometimes do where “everyone is mixed race.” So all three races would have smeared together into a single uniform color. What color? Mostly Harfoot, aka brown. The “strong strain of Fallohide” in the Tookish and Brandybuck lines means maybe they’re white-passing, but in this scenario all hobbits are brown.
Option B: He’s talking about a more melting-pot scenario where visual racial distinctions still exist but everyone lives side-by-side in a fairly uniform culure. The Tooks/Brandybucks having a “strong strain of Fallohide” means that they are themselves remaining strains of Fallohide, and are straight-up white. Merry, half Took and half Brandybuck, is thus white (possibly part Stoor, given Brandybuck comfort with water); Pippin, half Took and half Banks, is either white or biracial. The Baggins family, sensible owners of the oldest and most venerable hobbit-hole anyone knows of, are blatantly Harfoot, making Bilbo and Frodo (half Took and half Brandybuck respectively) also biracial. Fallohides being exclusively adventurous high-class types, and the Gamgees being staid low-class homebodies with a distrust of moving water, Sam is obviously Harfoot and thus completely brown. (Smeagol, a Stoor, is probably white, but as discussed above, doesn’t have to be.) In this scenario, a minimum of three of five heroic hobbits are various shades of brown, four out of five of them could be, and most background hobbits are brown.
In conclusion, if you think all hobbits are white, you are canonically wrong. If you geek out over Aragorn wearing the Ring of Barahir, rage about Faramir trying to take the Ring, and do not even notice, much less complain, that Sam, Bilbo and Frodo are being erroneously portrayed by white guys, you need to reexamine the focus of your nerdery.
I’m gonna be serious here, we all know that even though I often focused on making my own content people still only saw me as ‘’Brad’s girlfriend’’. After the breakup was spat out a lot of hate hit my asks and people figuring out that Brad would no longer be part of my videos and vice versa really hit my viewer base hard.
I am not very shocked nor surprised that this happened. Which is why I am currently in a ‘rebuilding process’ of my channel. I am not sure if it will end up being successful or not or if I actually am turning into a ‘dead channel’ or ‘dead twitch streamer’ because the numbers have been dropping heavily. I will continue what I’m doing no matter what happens.
I want to thank everyone who still sticks with me or with my content and I can still make happy throughout all of this, I want to apologize if I ever failed to do so.
Honestly I am so upset that all they did with sugilite was make her destructive. Why couldn’t we have some of nicki’s personality, when her actual personality is so much closer to what amethyst/garnet as a fusion should have been?
For example, I would have loved to have seen sugilite be super bubble gum sweet to steven because of how much garnet and amethyst love and care about steven. Why would they possibly hurt him? Why would that make any sense at all, even for the direction that the show was going. the sardonyx arc still could have happened because of nicki’s show persona of just being a super strong iconic woman of color who loves being herself
That whole thing could have been that sugilite doesn’t fuse much because garnet and amethyst love each other so much and feel so much stronger together around pearl that they don’t want to unfuse. They love being sugilite because sugilite is a wonderful fusion to be. It didn’t have to be “they’re too volatile and destructive” when even malachite wasn’t that destructive.
Literally it is absolutely abhorrent that they made sugilite more destructive than malachite when it would have been so easy to have garnet or amethyst say something like “we don’t fuse often because we love our fusion too much, and we are more useful to the crystal gems as individuals” rather than shelf another black coded gem for being too “violent”
We've gotten to see a bunch of flashbacks to some HQ! characters' childhoods, so what about top 5 of the characters as kids or maybe top 5 you wish we could see younger? I really want to see little Noya, because why hasn't that happened yet?!
Oh they are both really nice my bean, I guess I’m gonna go with the top 5 characters I’d love to see as kids! (Making this top 5 I realized there are truly only a few character we haven’t seen as kids!!)
1. Bokuto. Even just to settle the big mystery of his natural hair color, I NEED to see little Bokuto right now immediately. I bet he was a little hurricane…with a not so happy backstory. I’m so ready for Furudate to slay me. (who am I kidding I’m not ready but STILL gimme)
2. Nishinoya. YES I agree with you, baby Noya would be such a blessing, even if I think he was not so different from how he’s now, just…shorter, and maybe even louder! I wonder if he did roll allover the house, jump from the forniture, escape his bed and generally gave hell to his parents. Because I bet he did.
3. Akaashi. I imagine little Akaashi as a Japanese version of Prince George. Royal aura, sassy attitude and death glare included. But also, the sweetest and most beautiful baby boy ever, with huge blue eyes that didn’t change that much.
4. Sugawara. Was he already a little demon disguised as an angel, of did life made him that way? Was he the kind of kid that stole other kid’s toys and his heart melting smile made him impossible to scold? Or was he an actual angel sent from the gods in toddler form? I need answers.
5. Kageyama. We already saw little blueberry in his junior high days, but who doesn’t need to see an even !!! smaller !!! blueberry ??? WHAT IF HE WAS A LITTLE CHUBBY THO AAAHHH
Summary:You’re head over heels for you’re best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.
Word count: 1805
Warnings:Cursing, low-self esteem, chubby!reader x bucky, idk….
A/N: I hope you like this chapter, for some reason I enjoy it a lot though it’s not much. I have a three day weekend coming up so hopefully I can continue working on my fics. Thanks for your patience and I LOVE the feedback :]
Romanov was many things: ace assassin, hotshot hacker, super spy. Pleasant in the morning? No.
Not one of her virtues. You might as well have poked a sleeping bear
with a pointy stick; their reactions were generally the same. Though the bear was more likely to let you
live, come to think of it. But desperate
times called for desperate measures.
head cradled her mug as she shuffled back towards the bed with eyes half
open. You took that as an invitation,
though it probably wouldn’t work on vampires, you’d have to remember that
should the time come. You kicked the
door shut and plopped onto the bed where a half-naked Clint was slowly entering
the world of consciousness. You signed
“good morning” to him once his confused expression grazed from Natasha and back
to you. He grinned puckishly before
speaking aloud, “Is it my birthday?”
“Why are we still here? Just to suffer? Every night, I can feel my gravity connector… And my screen… even my touch stumps… The limb enhancers I’ve lost… the comrades I’ve lost… won’t stop hurting… It’s like they’re all still there. You feel it, too, don’t you? I’m gonna make them give back our past!”
Yoongi: He doesn’t think of himself as someone who could sing very well, so when he listens to your request, he protests a little, ‘You know I’m a rapper, right?’ He’s worried his throaty voice wouldn’t ease you into sleep; if there were a piano in the room, he’d play that instead. With a little more persistence, you tell him that it doesn’t matter to you, that you just want to hear his voice last before drifting off. He would end up giving in to your pleas, humming to Whalien 52 at a slower tempo and a leveled pitch to match his voice; the melody of the song is occasionally drowned out by his soft, sleepy sighs as he holds you close to watch you fall asleep. The lyrics provoke him into the thought of losing you - something he hoped would never happen - thankfully, the sight of you relaxing your shoulders while he sings would tug at his heartstrings, calming him down. The life of an idol and producer was a lonely one. To have found you amidst all this chaos; he never took it for granted.
/ Lonely, lonely, lonely whale /
Like this, try calling once again / Until this song that doesn’t have a response / Reaches tomorrow /
Jimin: ‘Again?’, he would say. You often asked for his sweet voice to serenade you to sleep, on the days that he didn’t seem too tired to do so - sometimes, he would even do it without you asking. He knows that you have trouble sleeping every so often by the way your body twitches up against him, causing him to wake as well. He would be quite worn out from the day’s practice, but it wouldn’t stop him from smiling at the fact that you always needed some sort of lullaby to calm your nerves. He would whisper in your ear after waking, asking if you wanted to hear anything specific - whether you wanted something with a major or minor key. Doesn’t matter, you say to him, and he moves his lips to the chorus of BTS’ Hold Me Tight; a song he listened to often before he met you. He would be glad he didn’t have to relate this song to himself anymore; he no longer felt miserable, after finally being able to be your boyfriend.
/ You still shine / You’re still like a scented flower / Now trust me / Hold me once again / So I can feel you, hold me / Without you, I can’t breathe / I’m nothing without you /
Namjoon: He would stare at you for a bit, wondering what he could possibly harmonize to, to help lull you to sleep. Recently, he has been taking on more vocal roles in BTS, so he’s definitely more willing to sing to you since you asked. You are the one person that he would ever think of serenading, even despite the strenuous lives the both of you led due to being romantically involved with an idol. He wants to take this opportunity to be able to sing something meaningful to you in that moment; he wants you to be okay. He would never hurt you intentionally, but he knows the pressure of this relationship can be crippling. He climbs into bed with you, letting your head rest on his chest as you eagerly focus on the sounds emanating from deep within him, that follow to the theme of Two! Three! Hoping For More Good Days. He hopes you can sleep, knowing he would always love you through the hardships.
/ Let’s just walk down a pleasant flower path / I can’t say something like that / Let’s only see good things / I can’t say that either / That only good things will happen / That you won’t get hurt anymore / I can’t say something like that / I can’t lie like that /
Seokjin: Jin would love singing you to bed, he wouldn’t really be able to envision any better way to spend the moments he has left before he would turn in for the night. He would joke about how lucky you are to get to hear his celestial voice off-stage; fans would have killed for that opportunity. Personally, he would be brimming with happiness. He would feel appreciated and wanted, just for asking him to sing for you. He would sit by your bedside on his knees, resting his chin on your mattress. His eyes would look up to observe the process of you nodding off, while he gently murmurs the lyrics to his latest solo, Awake. When you’ve fallen asleep, he would stop immediately to take in the view of you slumbering serenely before him. People liked to dub him the ‘angel’ of BTS - never did it occur to him that he would always get to sing to one, let alone be by their side every night.
/ Maybe I, I can never fly / I can’t fly like the flower petals over there / Or as though I have wings / Maybe I, I can’t touch the sky / Still, I want to stretch my hand out / I want to run, just a bit more /
Jungkook: The maknae of Bangtan would have no qualms fulfilling your reasonable request. He would tease you a little at first, saying that you were like a child that needed to be tucked in before being able to doze off. When you confess that you listen to his song covers whenever he’s gone because it makes you feel less alone - the tables would have turned on him instead - his teasing would backfire as he blushes at the thought of his voice accompanying you to sleep whenever he wasn’t around. Jungkook has a special kind of allure to his singing that soothed your soul, and you end up saying just that to him. He wouldn’t even be able to look you straight in the eye as he vocalizes to the melody of BTS’ Blanket Kick - even after all these years, you still knew how to set his heart ablaze; your words always make him as giddy as schoolboy before his crush.
/ Only you, only you / Again, I’m acting weird in front of you / You’re so pretty, pretty, pretty / But why am I like this? / I sleep and kick my blankets around / Only you /
Hoseok: The cheery smile on his face would widen as he listens to your question. Why him? He would say that it’s cute of you to think of him as someone that could put you to sleep with the sound of his raspy voice, and he would end up telling you that there is no way he can attempt that feat. You shoot him eyes that begged him to humor you. Hobi wouldn’t have had much of a choice; but he’s truthfully okay with that. Arasseo, let me warm up. He would clear his throat in a wacky fashion that makes you giggle drowsily his way. The words to a familiar song would progressively return to him, and he begins a verse with a faint melody before leisurely and softly rapping the lyrics to Rain - something he’s written once before when he was hurt by love - but Hoseok no longer looks back at the experience with a pained heart, because he knows that he has a future with you to look forward to.
/ I get up and when I feel sore / I look out the window / As if it knows how my body feels, the rain is falling / Welling up in the window / I felt it / The tears that were flowing down my heart /
Taehyung: His features would shine in delight as he realizes this is the first time you’ve ever asked him to sing for you; Taehyung would leap fervently at the chance to serenade his sweetheart to sleep, especially because he was absent on most nights to shoot promos and record in the studio. If singing is one of the ways he can make you feel less unattended to, you can bet a million dollars he would pull out his phone in the middle of a concert to stream himself performing, just to make you smile. He decides to sing Just One Day to get his sentiment across. The last thing he would ever want was for you to feel like you’d been forgotten about. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t wish he could spend it with you. As you slide into unconsciousness, he burrows under the sheets with you and embraces you from behind, silently thankful that you still want to be with him; that you still want to hear his voice.
/ If I can be with you just for a day / If I can hold your hands just for a day / If I can be with you just for a day / Just one day / If you and I can be together just for a day /
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kaxpha! Your real gift will be up by this weekend I HOPE! <3 This is a pre-gift bc I can’t do much with the little time I have but well, I tried.
Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me. Just Tiny Sunshine Rey, that one’s mine.
Lance groans at the calling and rolls over, burying his face on the neck of his husband and hopes the tiny quiet voice by his side disappears.
Maybe if he stays quiet and don’t say anything it will go away?
“Papa, you already failed at being quiet, you’re mumbling.”
Well, Keith has always said that he thinks out loud most of the time.
“Papa’s not here.” Lance mumbles groggily, his hand patting the bed around him until it caught the end of his blanket and pulled it over his head. “Leave a message after the tone. Beep.”
He hears a soft giggle by his side and it makes his heart warm. “Papa, come on! It’s Sunday! And Sunday means Pancakes! Normal pancakes! Not the banana thingy Daddy makes.”
“I heard that.” Keith complains sleepily on his side, eyes still close and face buried on his pillow.
Lance bites his lower lip to suppress the chuckle that threatens to escape from his mouth. “Buddy, it’s Lazy Sunday. Why aren’t’ you being lazy?”
“Because, Papa! Pancakes with chocolate chips and strawberries!” It’s not even seven am and Lance wonders how his son can have this much energy so early in the morning.
“Nope, Papa’s not here. Ask Daddy.” He says instead, huffing when he feels a tiny knee on his stomach over the blanket and tiny hands patting his head.
“Daddy’s offended by the insult on his Banana Pancakes, ask Uncle Hunk.” It’s Keith’s muffled reply.
“Uncle Hunk lives half an hour from here.” Rey says pouting and Lance’s so close to give in but he needs to be strong, because it’s Lazy Sunday, that means no getting up until ten, cuddle with his husband in bed and –
The blanket above him suddenly falls, two small hands pulling it away from him and then Lance’s knows he’s a goner as soon as his blue eyes meet a bright pair of amber ones.
“Hi, Papa.” Rey giggles and Lance’s heart beats happily at the sound.
He smiles back softly and so tenderly at his son as he raises one hand and strokes Rey’s wild bed hair. “Hi, sunshine, good morning.”
“Okay, looks like we’re up then.” Keith says, yawning loudly and big before rolling over and meeting his family, “Hello, hello.”
Rey beams at him and leans down, dropping a big sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Hiya, Daddy.”
“Hi, buddy. You slept well?” He asks, smiling softly when he feels his husband’s lips on his forehead, pressing a soft kiss on it as a greeting.
Rey nods, “Yep!”
Lance shift a little and sits on the bed, bringing Rey closer to him gently and placing him on his lap, “Okay, alright! Tiny Rey Alejandro has defeated us bravely and now we must give him his reward.”
“Chocolate chip pancakes?” Rey exclaims happily, raising his arms in the air and Lance smirks down at him.
“No ~” He sing-songs and shares a quick look with his husband, who smirks back at him, getting the message, “It means…”
“Tickle Fight!” Keith finishes, throwing himself on top of the pair and starting to tickle his son’s sides as Lance holds him down on his arms.
While Rey’s squeals and laughter echoes around their room as he trashes wildly on his Papa’s arms, both parents grin wide at their son’s happiness.
“D – Daddy, no! S –Stop! The p – pancakes!!” Rey giggles and Keith chuckles under his breath.
“Say my Banana Pancakes are great.” He says playfully and Rey laughter grows as Keith moves his hand around, now tickling the five years old’s tummy.
“Now that’s just torture, Keith.” Lance teases from behind Rey and Keith sends him a flat look.
“You’re next, Mister, but first I’m gonna take care of this little fella.” Keith declares and the next thing Rey knows, his pajama top is up and then Keith blows a raspberry against his tummy.
Rey’s laughter just grows at that. “Daddy! N – No!! Haha! Stop! Papa, s – save me!”
Lance chuckles at his son’s plead, “I don’t know, Rey, I say you should surrender.”
“B – But the panca – Haha!! Daddy! The pancakes, P –Papa!”
Lance hums and makes a face as if thinking it over, “You’re right, Rey! We can’t let Banana Mullet –“
“ – Steal our precious chocolate chip pancakes with no bananas!” In a quick move, Lance pulls Rey out of his husband’s grip and then grins at Keith.
“It’s time for our come back attack, Rey Alejandro. What is your command?” He says, saluting formally at his still giggling son.
“Tickle Resistance!” Rey shouts between giggles and Lance nods firmly.
“Tickle Resistance!” He echoes and then he tackles a confused Keith on the middle of the bed, laughing loudly as he feels the tiny body of his son on top of him.
“Oh my god – You nerds! Haha – Lance! Watch your knee! Oh my god –“Keith grunts but laughs gleefully on the bottom of the pile, dropping his head back in defeat, “I, Keith Kogane the Second, surrender under Rey Alejandro’s power. Banana Pancakes shall never see the light of day ever again.”
Rey’s head pop out from Lance’s shoulders, meeting his Daddy’s eyes, “Except Thursday’s Nights right? It’s not movie night without Banana Pancakes.”
Keith manages to free one of his hands and scratches his chin as in deep thought, “I don’t know, Mister, my Banana Pancakes feel a little underappreciated right now.”
“They might never be at our table again.”
“You’re gonna make him cry.” Lance chimes, slapping his husband shoulder playfully.
Keith chuckles, “Alright, alright, Banana Pancakes will make their comeback on Thursday’s Nights. You’re lucky you’re so adorable, Mister.”
“Why, thank you.” Lance grins and Keith raises and eyebrow at him.
“I was talking to Rey.”
“Why, thank you, Daddy.” Rey says pleased, nodding in approval.
“Are you going to move anytime soon or?” Keith asks after a few minutes in silence, when Lance and Rey haven’t moved from their spot on top of him.
Lance and Rey share a smile between them before looking down on him.
“What a morning.” Keith says flatly but smiles big and wide as soon as his family laugh freely and happy at his words.
It’s a good day to have chocolate chip pancakes, anyways.
There were many things you liked about being a stagehand in your high school’s theatre department. It allowed you to be close to all this talent and be the driving force behind it. You didn’t get a lot of recognition, but seeing your stars succeed was enough for you.
This was your last show before you graduated and the senior committee had chosen The Last Five Years. It was secretly one of your favorite musicals and it was a perfect theme for the spring. Your brother Matthew was auditioning for Jamie, which was another reason you loved being behind the scenes.
Matthew had gotten all of the performance genes. He was amazing ever since you were kids. You, however, couldn’t hold a tune to save your life and every time you tried to act, you turned into a robot with a stutter.
But watching your brother bring audiences to tears then making them laugh in the same breath… It was one of the best things you had ever seen.
Matthew’s only real rival for the part was another guy in your year. Lint or whatever. He was good, but nowhere near as good as Matthew.
You held your brother’s hand tightly as the two of you made the walk to the bulletin board outside the theatre where the cast list and “helping hands” as your school liked to call the behind the scenes people would be posted.
“You’ve got this in the bag, Matt.”
“I know,” he grinned at you. “It’s your part I’m worried about.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. Always the comedian, your brother. “Haha.” You nudged his shoulder with yours and gave him an encouraging smile when he looked down at you. “But, seriously, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get it.”
“How is it I got the best big sister ever? Aren’t you supposed to be putting peanut butter in my hair or something?”
You laughed. “Um, no. But I distinctly remember you doing that to me when you were five and I was six.”
He tilted his head comically as if he was thinking. “Strangely enough, I have no recollection of that, dear sister.”
You finally arrived at the theatre and stopped at the edge of the crowd. “Just shut up and find out what I already know.”
You pushed him towards the list but before he could look, an exuberant figure stepped out of the crowd with a triumphant pose, arms above his head and everything.
“I did it,” the boy exclaimed. “I got Jamie!”
You shared a look of disbelief with Matthew then turned your head back to the guy… who was now grinding in celebration?
You felt an arm go around your shoulders and looked up to see your brother smiling, not the least bit upset that he didn’t get the part. “I see someone’s naaaame,” he sang into your ear.
Letting him walk you towards the cast list, the crowd cleared now since the potential Jamie’s had all dispersed, you tried to put the thought of your brother losing out of your mind.
You looked at the list and, sure enough, your name was there.
The Last Five Years - Helping Hands
Stage Manager… Y/N Y/L/N
But your eyes just couldn’t help but move up to see who stole your brother’s part.
Can you write headcanons for the rfa and saeran with an mc who wants to kill herself because she feels like she doesn’t matter and nothing she does will ever matter
I got this prompt before things went downhill on my end, and I’m so sorry it has taken me a while until I was able to write this for you, anon.
I really hope you’re doing okay, and know that you’re loved. Please if you need help, remember to talk to loved ones, friends, or to look up suicide hotlines for your area (Google as an incognito mode if you’re stressed about your history). If you’re thinking of therapy I used to use BetterHelp.com. They had an app and it was nice not having to voice all the negatives, just writing them down. And some places offer free therapy as well.
Do not be ashamed for wanting/needing help. It’s so much better than the alternative.
- He showered you with compliments on the daily.
- He didn’t know you. You were still just some person behind a text message screen.
- Why did he care so much?
- Out of the camera’s prying eyes, you locked yourself in the late Rika’s room, curling up beside her bed.
- She was so much better than you in every way, so much more lovable, likeable. No one ever batted an eye to you unless it was just to be flirted with.
- You knew those advances would go away the moment they saw you for who you were.
- Some over-depressed whiny fuck.
- You covered your face, hating how harsh you had to be to yourself, when you heard the phone ring. You peaked over, the action seemingly taking over a year, but you recognized the face on the ID.
- You answered, a low “Hello”, to which he acted surprised to.
- “Eh? Are you sick? Did our RFA princess get a cold?”
- Silence. Long enough that you heard him shuffle with the phone, probably to check if you were still on the line.
- “Mc? Hey, are you okay?”
- “Why do you care?”
- “…What kind of question is that?”
- You scoffed.
- “Hey, whats up? What’s wrong?”
- “What, you going to just flirt with me? Save the damsel in distress who you don’t even know?” You swallowed, the action making your throat feel like it was being torn apart.
- “I do know-”
- “No you don’t! You don’t even know what I look like, let alone how I act! How I really am! Just some selfish fuck up who can’t even compare to that Rika girl you all keep talking about!”
- Silence again, and your felt your heart manage to break even more. “That’s what I thought, you can’t even-”
- “No, I’m still here. I’m listening.”
- “To what?”
- “To you. To you venting. Mc, please just. Keep going.”
- Out of anger you did. Anger towards yourself, towards the group. He listened. He listened as anger turned into broken sobs that had your chest heaving.
- He kept quiet for a moment, making sure he wasn’t interrupting you again.
- “You’re right, I don’t know you. I don’t know what you look like, but you know what? I don’t care. Because while I don’t know you that well, I know already you’re a good person. You’re helping us while your heart is so burdened with stress, while you have the weight of us on your shoulders. Do you know how many others would do that? None. In fact, the one that did is gone now. And even as upset you are with us talking about her, you’re still willing to help, you’re still willing to listen to idiot romantics like me, while you’re struggling so much. But you know what? We’re here for you. These strangers that you’re taking care of, we’re here for you too. No matter how silly, no matter how late, you can call me. Text me. If you feel like this please, please, just talk to me or one of the guys who makes you feel more comfortable, if you can’t talk to anyone else. Just please, yell at me, blame me, but god please don’t do anything to yourself.”
- “I-I-I’m so ssorry-”
- “Don’t. We all have our bad moment. When I see you at that party, I’ll give you all the hugs I can’t give you right now, and all the ones no one else was able to give you. So stick around until then at least, okay?”
- You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “O-Okay.”
- He stayed on the phone with you to calm you down, getting you to agree to sleep on the couch so Seven could make sure you were okay. He stayed on the phone for hours, just listening, singing at times, humming encouragement.
- And when the two of you finally met, he couldn’t let go of you, and you never wanted to let go of him.
- He was used to coming home and you greeting him with a smile, warming his heart and taking the stress from work that day. Even Elizabeth 3rd didn’t have that effect all the time
- But seeing you curled up on the bed, motionless, face soaked in tears, had him dropping his suitcase and rushing to you
- “Mc? Mc, are you alright?”
- You weakly looked up at him, dried eyed threatening to tear up again. “No.” God, every part of you hurt admitting that, but you just wanting some emotion to grace you, something other than pain and numbness
- “Do I need to call the doctor? It’ll just-”
- “No, no please, just.” You weakly reached out for his hand, and he immediately grasped yours. Even just tilting your head felt like it took your whole energy reserve away. “I need you.”
- He laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms. “Love, please. What’s wrong?”
- “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
- “About what?”
- “I’m such a fucking waste of space Jumin, I can’t do anything right anymore.”
- He jerked away slightly, looking you in the eyes.
- “Don’t you dare even begin to think that. Don’t you dare.”
- Tears starting spilling from your eyes again as you were forced to look directly at him, your shoulders shaking.
- “But I am-”
- “No,” He kissed your forehead, but his voice was stern, even slightly shaky. “You are the most amazing thing to happen to me, you are the best thing to grace my presence each morning I open my eyes, you are so much more than that, mc. Please.”
- You had never seen Jumin cry, but now you felt it. He was holding you tight, burying his face in your hair, as he struggled to keep composed as his body shook.
- “Please, mc. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
- You clung tightly to him, muttering a mantra of apologies as he made a mental list of how to help you exactly.
- He would going to start telling you he loved you six times a day, kiss you every moment he could, call you every small two minute break he had just to tell you he thought of you.
- God, just anything. Anything to keep you here with him, and to feel like yourself again. Not this husk.
- Jaehee knew a few of the signs, just from excessive research she did after hearing about the late Rika.
- Maybe a few other reasons
- The two of you were closing up the shop for the night, you washing the dishes as she swept. However, she had stopped ages ago, watching you stare at a knife with a dead-eyed half lidded stare.
- She knew.
- Slowly, she walked behind you, taking your hands in hers and getting the knife away from you, holding you from behind.
- “Mc, don’t.”
- That’s all she said. She wasn’t even 100% sure that was what you were thinking, but you bursting into tears on the spot confirmed it.
- She cut the sink off, wrapping you in one of the fluffy clean towels, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her.
- She wanted to cry, felt like she needed to, but she held it in. For you, just for you. Just anything to make you happy.
- “Jaehee, I can’t- It’s so painful- I can’t even breathe-”
- “Shhh,” She kissed the back of your head, waiting for you to cry it out.
- When you finished, she turned you around, kissing the corners of your eyes.
- “We’re going to get you to a doctor.”
- “Jaehee, no-”
- “Yes,” Her voice cracked a bit, and she took a deep breath. “Mc, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve learned so much about myself, I’m finally enjoying my life again, I feel like I finally learned what it’s like to feel alive-”
- “With me gone, you’ll-”
- “I’ll break, I’ll be in shambles. And I never, ever, want to see you like that. I never want to see your beautiful, shining, radiant face devoid of life. If that happened, I’d die, Mc. I would just stop.”
- She took a moment to rub her eyes, then to kiss you.
- “Please, please, just talk to me. I promise I love you, I promise I will do everything I can. Just please, god. Don’t hurt yourself.”
- Everything had been numb until now.
- Bad grades? Still workless? Numb.
- Yoosung drowning in games while you silently and mentally begged for his attention? Numb.
- You weren’t even sure what had snapped in you today, but as he was discussing a test he failed, sad over it, but a bit happy it wasn’t as bad as his past grades
- And you just broke down in tears
- He froze up, trying to figure out what he said wrong as you buried your face in your knees.
- “Mc? Mc, what happened? Are you okay?”
- He gingerly touched you, scared of provoking more tears, but when you leaned a bit closer he managed to bring your face up to look at him.
- “Mc, please, please, tell me what is wrong.”
- He was so scared. Were you going to break up with him? Did someone hurt you? What was happening?
- After a few moments of choked sobbing and garbled mutterings, you managed to clear your throat enough.
- “Yo-Yoosung, I can’t stand this anymore.”
- Oh god, you were breaking up, weren’t you? He took a deep breath. “Stand what?”
- “Just, I don’t fuckcing know,” you covered your face again. “Living. I can’t.”
- His heart sunk. Immediately he pulled you to him, tears already leaking.
- “Do-Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare, Mc. Please, god, don’t you dare.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, he didn’t want to even jinx it. “Please, god, don’t. I don’t know what I’d do.”
- You outright wailed.
- “I don’t have a job, I’m such a disgrace, I just-”
- “No,” He pushed your face into his shoulder, refusing to have you keep on. “You don’t know how much you mean to me, or the people around you. God, please, I went through this with Rika, Mc, just please, please, let me help you. I couldn’t-” His voice broke, “I couldn’t help her, please, god, let me help you.”
- The two of you broke down, just rocking back and forth on his bed, sobbing together. You, feeling so ashamed and sick. Yoosung, so scared and guilty.
- After the two of you cried it out a bit, he covered you in kisses, refusing to stop until he felt like you knew how much he loved you.
- He’d nearly beg Jumin to have him help you get help. He didn’t care if he had to become a slave to C&R for the rest of his life. Anything was better than losing you.
- No matter what you did, how much you told him you loved him, he pushed you away.
- You couldn’t understand why for the life of you. He was so in love with you a while ago, and now it’s just this?
- It was you, right? You did something. You weren’t who he thought you were…Right?
- He didn’t even notice you leave the house.
- You threw your phone somewhere outside, and just walked. Walked until your feet felt sore, until your legs couldn’t take it.
- When you finally stopped, you were at an old park bench. It was late in the afternoon, almost dark, so no kids were around. You sat down, and held it in as you thought about what you were going to do.
- There was a river nearby, so that was an option, wasn’t it? And if you truly needed to you could fashion your sweater into some noose. It wouldn’t be too hard if you had your phone.
- Phone… Right. You threw that somewhere, didn’t you? You couldn’t even look up proper ways of killing yourself, could you? Managed to fuck up right until the end.
- You laughed to yourself, and as you did it slowly turned into hiccups. Into sobs.
- Soon you were sobbing on this abandoned park bench, like some fool. Some lovestruck fool that had no one to love her back.
- You didn’t know how long you were there, not until a loud screeching noise hit your ears, causing you to blink at the bright lights in front of you.
- “Mc? Oh thank god, thank god.”
- Seven ran to you, pulling you off the bench and hugging you tight.
- “I was so scared, I was so fucking scared. Are you okay? Are you hurt-”
- You shook him off, shooting a bitter glare his way.
- “Why do you care?”
- You could see the life leave him. He instantly teared up, reaching for you.
- “God, mc, I do, I do, god i do please. Please please, please pleaseplease, don’t do this-”
- “What, push you away like you-”
- He pulled you into a sloppy, wet, kiss. His tears mingling with his inability to kiss properly.
- “I know I’m an asshole, I know I don’t deserve you. I just get so scared- I’m so gross, so disgusting, so stupid, Mc. And you’re so smart, so kind, so fucking calm. And I don’t deserve you, not in the slightest, but here you are,” He managed a weak, choked, laugh. “Finally realizing…”
- He held you close, refusing to let go, as he sobbed into your chest. “God, mc, please. Come home, lets talk, and then you can beat me within an inch of my life, but please god don’t leave me, don’t, not like this. Not like this, just any other way, not like this.”
- You put your stubbornness aside. Still angry, but longing some validation.
- The two of you settled in his car, awkwardly cuddling in the back seat in the abandoned parking lot, trying to calm down enough to drive.
- And in that time frame, you realized he was just as scared as you were. Once he heard your plans, he begged you to get help, he even promised he would come along to therapy, just anything so you didn’t harm yourself like you were thinking. He needed to know you were safe, and he would never forgive himself if he couldn’t stop you.
- But you knew for damn sure he wasn’t going to push you away anymore, not even if his mind told him to. You deserved more.
- When he saw your recent search histories, he nearly broke down himself, recognizing a few of the searches as ones he used to look up himself.
- You, the wonderful woman who welcomed him with open arms. Despite those he hurt, despite him trying to hurt you. When you first saw him, you immediately hugged him so tightly, whispering on how thankful you were that he was alright.
- Something he would never forget.
- And here he was, reading the results you got for painless suicide methods. Once he saw one connected to your recent behavior, he shot out of his seat and sprinted to wherever you could be.
- When he found you, he was the one to break into sobs. He was so mad, so fucking mad, that he couldn’t stay composed, but he needed you, he needed you so bad.
- He fell to his knees, clinging onto your legs.
- “Mc, please god, please don’t do it, please for fucking gods sake don’t leave me alone, don’t leave me with an empty bed and guilt, god Mc I can’t take it, I can’t.”
- As soon as he started sobbing, you connected the pieces pretty quickly, and felt your own tears pour.
- You slowly met him on the floor, where he held you in a death-like grip, begging you without any shame.
- “Why, why, why? Why?”
- “I’m just. Worthless, Saera-”
- “Don’t you fucking even think that for one moment. I’ve killed people, mc, I’ve killed people worse than you, I’ve beaten people. God, Mc, I’m worse than you. If anything I’m the one more deserving to go rather than you.”
- He broke down again, ending up blubbering. “If you go I don’t know what I’d do. You’re the only thing keeping me sane, please god Mc, please don’t. Please. Please.”
- He just kept begging, and you started to wail.
- The two of you stayed on the floor just cuddling each other, unsure of what else to do. It took hours until the both of you could stop crying, until the both of you held hands so tightly and talked about the help for you to get.
- He would do anything, just anything, for his beautiful heaven like sky not to be taken away from him.
(A/N: Okay, so no-one actually requested this, but I saw this prompt, and I just thought it was a really cute idea so I wanted to write this cx Ah, please do tell me what you thought!! I really would like feedback!!)
Your hand rested on the steering wheel, your hair billowing into your face as wind blew in from the open sunroof of the car. You sighed, attempting to push your hair away from your mouth with your free hand, only for it to fly back into your face again, causing you to throw your hand up in frustration. Quiet music reverberated through the vehicle, and you gently bobbed your head along to the beat, a hum coming from your lips. Quickly glancing at the face of your watch, you groaned; two in the morning and you were still making your way home.
The road was eerily quiet, no other car in sight as you rolled past small shops, houses, nearing a small police station. Trees lined each side of the street, almost creating a natural canopy of lush green leaves above you, your mouth opening slightly in awe as you glanced up through the open sunroof. A leaf fluttered down from above, falling on your head, and you shook your head with a smile, plucking it off your head. It was followed by yet another leaf, and another, and you looked up with a puzzled expression, a rustling in the branches directly above you.
“Hm…?” You cocked your head slightly, glancing back at the road ahead of you cautiously, the rustling becoming increasingly louder, as something tumbled out of the branches. Something small and furry. Something that fell directly through the exposed sunroof, landing on your shoulder and frantically scrambling around. You screamed as the squirrel madly scratched at your face, tugging on your hair and running down your arm. Flailing around in fright, the car swerved off violently to the side of the road, as you drove straight into a pole, your head snapping backwards slightly. The car finally came to a halt, the front indented, and you fumbled for the handle, attempting to escape the rabid creature in your car.
You had crashed directly in front of the passing police station, and at the sound of the impact, a young police officer emerged from the building, looking at the car curiously, squinting as he noticed you falling out of the now open door. He approached the vehicle, crouching down beside you and offering you his hand, his smile resembling that of a bunny. You gingerly accepted the help, and he pulled you up, looking you up and down with a curious expression. You simply stared at him blankly, suddenly conscious of your ruffled appearance as this handsome man stood in front of you with an expectant expression, his hair a dark shade of… purple?
“What happened here, Miss…?” He inquired, still looking at you with that cute grin, his eyes sparkling almost mischievously.
“Ah, it’s (Y/N)…” You stuttered, enraptured by his handsome features, your eyes lingering a bit too long as you admired how his uniform fitted his body, as he peered over at your car, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw the squirrel still darting around. Following his gaze, you shuddered, stepping away from the car, shaking your head with your hands up.
“I was just trying to get home but I left my sunroof open all day and now there’s a squirrel in my car and it scared me and I drove into a pole, and..” You rambled, frantically gesturing with your hands, your eyes wide with shock. The police officer stared at you with disbelief, his fist held to his mouth as he tried his best to stay professional and suppress his laughter, but he couldn’t help but chuckle, causing you to stop and stare, annoyed as you put your hands on your hips.
“Would you please stop laughing you’re a cop, you’re supposed to be helping.” You pursed your lips - and yet you couldn’t really be annoyed as you realised how absurd you sounded - the officer throwing up his hands in apology, charming smile ever present on his face.
“I’m sorry, Miss (Y/N), I hope you weren’t injured?” He looked you up and down in concern, and you felt your heart flutter ever so slightly as his eyes softened. You snapped out of your trance, clearing your throat and glancing over at your car, the squirrel finally perking up and scrambling out of the car, and back to the trees. You finally sighed in relief, the officer looking at you with amusement, his head cocking to the side slightly - it wasn’t everyday that a cute girl happened to crash on the doorstep of the police station.
“Miss? Do you happen to need a ride home, seeing as your car is… well,” he gestured over to your car pressed up against the lamppost, a small indent in the bonnet of the car.
You visibly perked up at his suggestion, before realising how overly eager you looked and clearing your throat, attempting to act casual about the matter. Never mind the fact that a cute police officer is offering to take you home, no big deal, you tried to convince yourself.
“I mean, sure, I guess…” You said, looking down at your hand, tilting your head to the side as you looked back up at him, the amused expression still on his face, as he began walking over to a police car parked in the corner.
“It’s Jungkook by the way,” the officer called out, flashing a grin at you as he opened the passenger door for you courteously, and you felt a dusty pink rising up onto your cheeks at his gaze. Jungkook. So that was the name of this handsome officer.
“Miss?” He called out once again, this time with a stern tone, causing you to freeze halfway through climbing into the police car. You glanced up at him cautiously, his expression now stoic and stern, leaving you wondering what you had done this time around. I always have to mess stuff up, you thought, mentally sighing as you had ruined your chances once again.
“I’ve just realised that you’ve broken the law, Miss.” He crossed his arms over his firm chest, and you felt panic rise up in your chest, your eyes widening in shock. You opened your mouth to speak, but you noticed a smirk spreading onto his face, his eyebrows raised playfully, as he said, “Don’t you know it’s illegal to be that cute?”
You groaned at the lame pick up line, and yet you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips, your heart thudding against your chest in pure relief, and possible admiration. “Who knew police officers could be so lame?” You muttered, and Jungkook climbed into the driver’s seat, spinning around in his seat as he just about caught your comment.
“Excuse me, Miss (Y/N)? I think I might just have to arrest you for that comment,” he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playfulness, and you felt butterflies fluttering around in your chest, threatening to burst out.
“I mean… I’d let you arrest me anyday, but…” You coughed, as Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, shaking his head with a laugh. “Someone found their confidence, huh?” He retaliated, his heart swelling at your sudden flirtation attempt.
You giggled, and Jungkook turned back around in his seat, starting up the car and reversing out of the drive, one hand on the wheel as you drove down the street. You directed him to where he should drop you off, your hand accidentally brushing against his muscular arm as you pointed forwards, causing you to blush even more. You were grateful for the fact that he didn’t question why you were still making your way home at this ungodly hour, and instead you exchanged playful banter the whole journey back, the sound of laughter filling the vehicle.
You finally reached your destination, and you pouted slightly as Jungkook parked the car, realising that meant you would have to go. You didn’t know if you were going to see him again, although your heart was desperately leaping in your chest, as he grinned charmingly again. You were about to climb out of the car, before Jungkook called you back, the butterflies in your chest becoming even more frantic.
“I, uh, am going to require your phone number… for, um, returning your car purposes…” A adorable shyness overcame Jungkook, and you resisted the urge to coo at him, instead giggling, taking his notepad from his pocket and jotting down your number for him.
“Returning my car purposes, huh?” You teased, throwing your head back in a laugh as you handed back his notepad, and he chuckled. In that moment, your eyes lighting up in joy, the sound of your laugh so sweet and genuine, he truly hoped your paths would cross again - the fleeting hope that another squirrel would fall into your car again, and he looked down with a smile.
“Uh, thank you for the ride, Jungkook,” you said, stepping out of the car, and bending down to look through the door with a sweet smile. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem, Miss,” he responded lightly, his heart still fluttering in his chest.
“Do we have to with the “Miss”? It’s so overly formal, just call me (Y/N),” you chuckled, and Jungkook shook his head with a smile.
“(Y/N) it is then.” He nodded, still admiring how genuinely happy you looked, and you waved, walking away with a spring in your step.
“Ah… how adorable.” He rested his chin on the steering wheel, his lips curled up in a smile, as he glanced down at the number you had written down, signing your name off with a little heart. That day he returned home with an uplifted mood, hoping your paths would cross again.