#im back to trying to get through the Shatter Me series yet again

[traitormithos]

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#im back to trying to get through the Shatter Me series yet again #i definitely needed the months break because the first 3 conclude the plot #and when more books are added on to an already completed series i tend to get bored #but anyway its interesting to see how much better the books become as time went on #like the authors writing style improved plus details what were brushed over or completely ignored are being addressed #like my main complaint with the Shatter Me book (besides no plot) is that theres no world-building #its so completely vague #all you really understand is that this is a dystopian world and the setting of the events is in north america #but we dont get to know about the other sectors in north america much less about whats going on in the rest of the world #but i think these last three books help fix that... hopefully #also the Dance of Thieves duology is amazing actually. i recommend to anyone who likes to read ya/fantasy

[blueaiyuice]

Uriel Character Analysis Deep-Dive: Mingyu from GSM

hey yall! this is gonna start becoming a recurring thing; idk if anyone actually reads these but im starting this series so that you can check out how i meant for these characters to be portrayed, their character arcs, and so on so forth.

today's analysis is JUNG MINGYU from GOD-SHATTERING MANIA, the sequel to my infamous zoom-team centric fic FRACTALS AND DOMINOS. this was requested by @peridoughnutt, so here it is as promised (finally, lmao). THERE WILL BE HEAVY SPOILERS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

and of course, if you want to see my EVEN STARS DIE EVENTUALLY KAMDEN character analysis from last time, check it out here!

Mingyu's General Character Arc

Mingyu is one of the main five, and he's supposed to be the parallel to Hyunbeen — wanting to prove himself and be just as useful to the rest of the team. This ties in with his naturally-hardworking nature that we can see in BP—even though he was in on it as a joke and didn't really care for debut, he still gave it his all and tried his best to get as far as he could. His whole arc in GSM is quite similar—wanting to prove that he's able to be a useful member of the team. Unlike in BP, however, this backfires, due to the mistakes that he ends up making that end up proving fatal to his mental state.

Speaking of his mental state, he was already in a bad state of mind from the start of GSM. It's mentioned in his talk with Jihoo post-Hiroto that he never actually recovered from the trauma of Fractals and Dominos: "Honestly, I...I've always been acting like things have been okay for me since I got possessed, but they haven't. They never did. Sometimes, I feel like Mnet's...clawing its way back into me, like I'm going to spiral all over again because of what it did to me...I'll always feel like Mnet's somewhere in the back of my head, trying to corrupt me all over again." As the first district back in Fractals and Dominos, he was under Mnet's mind control the least amount of time along with Doha, making him one of the only other two aside from ZOOM team to fully remember everything that happened, with very very minimal gaps in memory. Unlike Doha, he never truly recovered from that hell, nor did he ever truly feel as if he really escaped Mnet. It's almost like he could subconsciously notice that Mnet wasn't truly gone, a backwards foreshadowing to what would come in GSM. It's why Jihoo couldn't empathize with him, because Jihoo wouldn't be able to truly understand the amount of mental trauma Mingyu was going through.

Mingyu and Hiroto

One of Mingyu's biggest mistakes, but also his saving grace, was befriending and later falling in love with alternate-universe Hiroto. He and Hiroto already shared a lot in common in both worlds, having the same part for the same song for K vs G. Despite all the warnings, Mingyu's more of a bleeding heart than anything else, and it shows in his caretaking side, which is why he ends up reaching toward an outside yet familiar face. His soft spot for Hiroto existed even before switching over to the other world. It's this kindness that he extends to Hiroto, who's never experienced that sort of hope in a long time, that causes them to get drawn to each other.

Despite their growing relationship, Mingyu already knew he was setting himself up for failure, whether or not he knew Hiroto would become a world eventually. He's already trying to hide all of the information about being from an alternate universe to Hiroto, trying to keep the fragile timeline together in order to stay undetected by Mnet (even though at that point there was no reason). Almost everyone warns Mingyu too, such as Gunwook ("I don't think you keeping this up is a good idea. Not because it's Hiroto, but because of the timeline and shit—he's not gonna be the same Hiroto when you come back, you know."), Woonggi ("Hiroto's memories won't sync up like Seowon's. I'm not gonna stop you, Mingyu, but it is a setup."), and Taerae ("Hiroto isn't going to become magically aware, like Seowon or Zihao did. He was never touched by the alternate reality back in our world, so there's no way he's going to change all of sudden."). Jihoo is the only one who doesn't say anything, but even he knew ("I know, Mingyu. But it's not our Hiroto.").

Mingyu still insists on sticking with Hiroto because he's grown too attached too quickly to the point where he ends up relying on Hiroto's existence as an anchor. Even though he's self-aware that Hiroto's memories won't sync up, or that eventually the timeline would be destroyed and Hiroto would go along with it, he wants to hang onto that brief moment of happiness and hope. In this way, he also still calls out everyone for being a mild hypocrite, with them still deciding to befriend Zihao even though his memories wouldn't sync up either (though to be fair, Zihao was possessed and later awakened). It makes Hiroto's death all the more painful and tragic, and it's why Mingyu is so devastated post-death. It takes Jihoo's comforting and words of encouragement, as well as seeing the creature that led Hiroto to his death, for Mingyu to regain his resolve: "No, I can't linger on him anymore. The only thing left to do is crush Mnet."

Mingyu's Ending

Back in the real world, Mingyu finally reunites with the original Hiroto, though this Hiroto doesn't share any of the memories that the alternate-universe Hiroto had. With Mnet's influence finally gone for good, and Mingyu still recovering from all of the long-term grieving and trauma, he's able to finally place that hope back in Hiroto again—though this time, there's no Mnet to take Hiroto away from him. Mingyu, being the hardworking person he is, has a lot of perseverance, and even when he's still in a low and trying to recover, he still decides to place his faith in something he knows is fundamentally good and he can trust—and to him, that's Hiroto. To him, Hiroto is like home, and even if that home has escaped him many times, he still tries anyway. It's a very hopeful ending, and maybe, just maybe, Mingyu will finally get the peace he deserves.

Thanks for reading this analysis! Not sure who I'll do next, but I think I'll be asking a fellow friend of mine for the next character arc :)

#boys planet fanfiction #boys planet fanfic #jung mingyu #wow i really did just write this entire thing at 12am #this was long overdue lmao #thank you for reading if you did

[gaias-space]

I’ll carry your heart forever Munson ❤️

Steddie! Oneshot/headcannon

Plot- { Steve never got over Eddie’s death from the bats in the upside down. this is just a sad Headcannon of his grief. Im sorry ! <3 it’s sad Boi hours in here.}

TW- this does have a lot of depressing content no S/H is involved but just a lot of sad breakdowns and some drug use so please if this will trigger you I advise you don’t read ❤️

Ps- this was a random burst of inspiration I’m sorry for the delay in the loki series (it is coming my loves 💚)

“Dustin…where is Eddie?” He watched as Dustin’s exhausted body stumbles to them. Tears endlessly falling from his puffy red eyes. “DUSTIN HENDERSON WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” He chokes. Tears full in Steve’s eyes, his fists punching the wall beside him. “Dus-“ he couldn’t finish his voice squeaked and shattered. He’s…he’s gone steve….i couldn’t save him he-“ nothing else mattered. He was gone. Dustin’s voice was now a echo. Steve fell to his knees. “God damn it munson! Why did you try and be a hero! No no no no! This isn’t true I-“ the sounds of his friends crying behind him were too far for him to notice. His heart ached. “No this isn’t true this isn’t real fuck!” Tears pooled from his eyes, Steve gripped his chest feeling his breathing shortening. “I have to find him!” Steve doesn’t remember the way he ran screaming, Robyn and Nancy holding him back. His screams were heartbreaking, a sound that was left with them for months. “Steve we have to go!”.

He’s gone. Eddie was gone. That memory continuously played through Steve’s mind. After the battle with vecna Steve found himself walking…with no intention on where just walk and walk. Maybe he would get hit by a train, or eaten by a wolf, better yet vecna could come back and take him. Nothing mattered. And he found himself somewhere familiar. His wet and swollen eyes look up at Eddie’s trailer, damaged and defeated. And every night since he stayed there. He lied to his friends, they all thought he was okay and away on a trip or checking out colleges around the state. But there he was every day. He loved eddie the second he seen him. Even with a bottle to his throat he knew eddie and him had something special. He would sleep in Eddie’s vest every night, hold His pillow close and inhale his scent. And he wasn’t ready for the day the scent disappeared. His trailer was rotting away, and it felt just right for Steve. He wanted to rot away with it. “Eddie …why did you leave me…why did you go? Please I need you”. He cried out. Memories would flash through his head every night the ones that made him fall in love harder and harder for that freak metal head munson. The way eddie called him “big boy” and shared that cheeky little smile. Or when eddie gave Steve a ring to keep forever. “I dunno man…I just want you to have it. Don’t make a big deal about it” said a shy and flustered eddie. “I want you to remember me…that’s all”. It was a metal ring with a engraved corroded coffin logo made by yours truly. It meant the world to Steve. He remembered the way Eddie’s eyes lit up whenever Steve asked aboit D&D or his band. His puppy brown eyes would buldge and glisten in the light. There lye steve curled in a ball holding onto any piece he had of Eddie. Playing records of Eddie’s favourites, wearing his hellfire shirt no matter how dirty it got.

The ache in his chest was like no other. He couldn’t imagine another second without Eddie. “Oh Ed’s I can’t do this on my own. I can’t I can’t do this. Please please come back to me.” He screamed. Steve lived in Eddie’s trailer for months, he dusted every picture and every item protecting it like his life depended on it. Eddie’s memory would never die as long as Steve lives. Steve lied to everyone every call or tect he’d made an excuse, on the odd occasion he would hang out with Dustin and his friends he would fake a smile. And once his feet stepped into the trailer yard he’d fall apart again. “I don’t know how to do this without you eddie. Can you hear me? God I don’t even know if you can…but please I’d you can hear me …I need you. I really fucking need you man. Why couldn’t it have been me?!” Steves grieving was emotional he’d throw and break things {unless it was Eddie’s items of course}, he would cry himself to sleep to their favourite songs, and not eat for weeks. Anger, sadness, denial, and anger again. He’d always remember the way Eddie would smile with that cheeky grin of his, the way his curly hair got stuck to his forehead when he sweat. And of course, Steve would always wipe it away. He never felt so safe with anyone but Eddie. He remembered a night when he was freaking out about fighting demobats, and Eddie just held him in his arms. “Shh Stevie boy your gonna be okay. Your so badass! I’ve never met anyone who inspired me more than you do.” Eddie tilted Steve’s chin and they locked eyes. God those sweet brown eyes always made Steve melt. He couldn’t deny he had feelings. every touch, every scent, every sound of Eddie’s made Steve blush, melt, and fall in love.

It was another night of Steve throwing pillows and screaming “Why!? i hate you eddie my son! I hate you I hate you…” his voice creaked and locked up. “I…I love you. I’m all alone eddie. I’m alone…you were my person…” Steves eyes drifted to a small cabinet he left untouched. He knew was was in there and dare he do it? Fuck it. He thought. He lit the tightly rolled paper and for the first time he smoked Eddie’s special greens. This is what he needed. For the first time in months he felt a sense of relief. But he kept mumbling for hours until he passed out. “Eddie …edddie…your fucking smile man…who’s going t-to hold me wh-when I cry? Who will kiss me against the wall? Who…fuck I need you. I always did. And I’m sorry I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you…please forgive me…I hate myself…I hate ..”

And he drifted. A week went by and Robyn dragged him out of the house with Nancy. Steve felt a heavy weight in his gut, he wasn’t ready for where they were taking him. “Steve please… you need this. We will give you some space”. He was at the grave they created for Eddie. They never got to retrieve the body. Which made Steves heart ache even more. He fell to his knees the gut wrenching pain coming back all over again. “Why am I here?” He cried to himself. “This isn’t going to fucking do anything Robyn! Nancy I can’t believe you dragged me out here!” Nancy shared a sympathetic look as she sat with Steve. “Here…I think now or never is the best time for this… Dustin wanted you to have this..” she opened her palm and in her hand was Eddie’s favourite guitar pick. Dustin managed to take it when they were in the upside down. “Is that-E-Eddie’s..” Steves lips begin to tremble, he snatched it from her hand and held it close to him. All the thoughts appearing once again. He hasn’t noticed the girls slowly leaving back to the car. Tears pooling from his eyes “you were never the freak munson, you were never the bad guy. I m-miss you every single day. And …and I am so so angry at myself. Because I-I never th-thought I’d lose you. I thought I could tell you how I felt. But it was too late! I feel so guilty.” Steves body falls to the ground curling up beside the tombstone. “Fuck eddie I love you so much and I never got to tell you. And now I never will! I love you I love you I love you Edward munson. I can’t do this…I wish it was me! You deserved better. I’m just a stuck up rich asshole.” He could barley talk anymore his voice falling over each word. “And I don’t know if your safe..or if your being tortured by things in the upside down… or if you made it safely to the heavens! Fuck this isn’t even real. Eddie please come back to me baby. I love you”. A ball hits his throat, tears endlessly falling like waterfalls, his body shaking. He never got to tell Eddie he loved him, and now he is living in his own eternal hell.

“I promise as long as I live you will always be known as my hero, everyone’s hero! I’ll tell everyone about D&D being the most rad game out there, iron maiden has some of the greatest hits and NOONE can tell me different, and your right Ozzie is a real badass biting a bats head off! And that you were the love of my life.”

The tears dried now and Steve was numb. Hours had gone by he hadn’t even noticed the sun set. He sits up on his knees and kisses the cold tombstone. “Eddie…” he whispers. “I love you, I always will and I’m sorry”. As he begins to stand he felt a wave of cold hair brush his neck sending shivers down his spine. And he could of sworn he heard something.

“I know Steve…I know. I love you”.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie cult #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #Oneshot #headcannon #grieving #depression #Steve and Eddie #drabble #sad story

[curedeity]

For the bingo game: Hikaru if you haven't done her yet? :)c

Sadie you have given me the greatest gift imagineable. You really just said youre gonna give me everything i could ever want. Buckle up everyone lemme talk about one of my two most hc characters (i actually have an essay in the works about hikaru so i can talk about her for a while)

I think my thoughts about hikaru are pretty well known if youve taken even the slightest glance at my fanfic page. Shes one of my favorite characters, and i think the show and fandom did her dirty.

(Not actually that much of the fandom tbh thats a joke yall are great)

So, metal fusion hikaru. A solid if underutilized character, she has two temporary rivalries and is practically treated as one of the weakest characters on the series (normally around hyoma level but i dont think hyoma ever got wrecked by a no name). Shes used to demonstrate the powers of other bladers by constantly weakening and embarrassing her.

And then she quits battling.

Heres actually where i seem to have a separate take than most of fandom. A lot of people interpret her as having taken on her moms dream of blading and therefore her giving it up is her recognizing her new goals and moving out of her mothers goals.

Other people say she should never have to return to blading bc of trauma (to simplify that interpretation)

I agree with both of these to an extent, but i tend to take a different approach. I think she actually got out from under the expectations of her mother weighing her down all the way back in season 1, where she realized she was battling out of someone elses expectations and not having fun. After that, she proceeds to try (and in my mind succeed) to make beyblade her own joy.

So because of that, i want her to return to blading! Not full time, but i love writing her trying to address her issues and return to just having matches against her friends!

I have a lot of headcanons in regards to that. I innterpret hikaru as avoiding it because of how brutal her last loss was. She thinks that she wont even have a chance to fight, and will be shattered by another loss. She struggles to feel powerful and autonomous. She also is constantly feeling out of place bc she has all these instinct to battle but cant use them.

But she also comes into her own at the wbba and learns to enjoy blading through helping other people. By watching other people have fun, she can also assure herself that the stakes will mever be that high for her again and when she returns she can have fun.

I think iits absolutely sexist of the show to let tsubasa return and not hikaru, and then give tsubasa hikarus rightful job in shogun steel. Im very bitter.

In the terms of dynamics, i love that himaru gets basically adopted by ryo. I wish the show had more scenes of ryo behaving like her father and comforting her rather than hikaru constantly dealing with ryos idiocacy (see @lady-lazagna post about sexism in beyblade for the point about how the female characters are "mothering"). But their bond is very sweet and i think what hikaru needs while trying to deal with her complex feeling about her mom. Ryos a completely different type of parent.

Hikaru and gingka as siblings are also sweet. They have a bit of a rivalry and insult each other and both are a bit dumb (hikaru pretends not to be), but ultimately they care about each ither and are well meaning. I wish hikaru got to actually serve as gingkas rival within show.

And hikaru and madoka. Theyd get along. Theyre both very much moving away from the active blading scene and i think madoka would help hikaru settle into her role, and theyd both understand the others stress. Also theyre just cute and i love them. They should be coworkers.

Anyway i love hearing others interpetations of hikaru, and sadie yknow that yours is one of my favorites. Shes a great character and i wish she got more to do, so ill give her that. Read my hikaru fics on ao3 yall. Thanks again!!!!

#beyblade metal fight #character ask game #yall are so nice today giving me these characters #sadie you enabled me too much #i hope i explained well im so much better at explaining in fic form

[thepictureofsdr]

i saw your post about alastair and now im curious about all ut thoughts on Matthew

this ask. is like half a year old. I am So Sorry however i have thought about it literally every day bc my feelings on him are so… complex

i think i can break it down into two categories: 1. his character in context of the whole series, and 2. the bubble of his character, not taking into account his actions and impact towards other people

1. um. he makes me SO MAD. listen i have said time and time again that the thieves dont owe alastair forgiveness but that doesn’t extend to matthew actively trying to fuck up alastairs life. what pisses me off is that this whole agenda is centered on matthews wants, its not because he cares about his friends and wants them away from someone he thinks is bad. when he tells thomas about alastair at the party, there’s no concern for thomas. hes told at their best friends party, probably the first night of happiness since his sister was killed, while intoxicated and very much in public. math didnt take thomas aside or wait for a better moment. [I DONT HATE MATH I JUST LOVE THOMAS] matthew doesnt like alastair, so no one can like alastair, even if he has to hurt others to obtain that. hes very clearly stringing the other thieves along in this its just for him, they all like alastair or dont care about the past. kit doesnt give a shit, james respects alastair to a degree and thomas is head over heels. he even manages to make cordelia call his manipulation of alastair “kind.” he condemns alastair for spreading rumours yet he himself has deemed spreading gossip fun [i can’t STAND hypocrisy its a very easy way to get me to dislike a character unfortunately] he unconsciously blames alastair for the death of his sibling and now alastair and thomas are paying for it. understanding where a mental dip and lashing out are coming from can happen at the same time as not agreeing with it. i understand why matthew acts like this but that doesnt mean i can just ignore how matthew pushed alastair back down to his lowest yknow?

2. i adore him, and i sympathize with him, and he makes my heart hurt in every possible way. he was my tied fave character in tales, this young energetic boy who wants to be friends w the quiet kid, who stood up for his friends, and my heart SHATTERED when i read the poison story. at his core hes a genuinely good person, so i can’t even imagine the guilt thats been crushing him all these years. not only the pain of hurting his mother but killing the baby, my heart breaks every time i think about him and what he’s been carrying all these years. it hurts to even think about this burden hes placed on himself, the silence and ever growing self hatred and inherent belief that hes a problem. all i want is for him to receive that forgiveness hes been desperately needing for so long, and for him to see himself through the eyes of others, for him to see that goodness he possesses and the light he brings into the lives of others and for him to be loved as he so deserves.

there’s more but i cant lie im really scared of matthew lovers but also id feel so bad leaving this in drafts 😭 all in all my feelings on him are so complicated, i love him but hes also hurt someone else i love, hes a walking grey area. but i dont hate him, i feel like a lot of people are quick to assume any criticism is pure unfiltered hatred which clearly isn’t true considering my fave is ALASTAIR talk about someone who’s actions can be criticized 😭

#tysm for the ask!!! <3 #answered ask

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 01  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal.  But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend. 

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “  You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet. 

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head. 

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily. 

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

 “ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had  distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but  by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’  You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt  their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.”  You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

 “You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back. 

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do. 

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?”  He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan. 

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.”  You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

#jimin #park jimin #idol jimin #idol!jimin #idol ! jimin #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin one shot #jimin imagine #bts imagine #bts imagines #jimin imagines #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin angst #jimin sad #sad jimin #bts reaction #jimin reaction #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

https://matthewfairchildfanclub.tumblr.com/post/622613826051932160/okay-im-ranting-because-i-started-re-reading-the

What do u think about this? I'm kinda struck. I didn't read it that way? It didn't feel ooc to me? I am just stunned how many ppl agree with this because...thar entire thing was cardan and jude being dumb and sad and... Jude is a strong protagonist and ever scheming and persistent but she's...like human? She has feelings and is allowed to be sad??? Idk it's just strange to me

okay first thing's first: i'm not trying to start beef with OP (or anyone who agrees with OP). that is their opinion. they're allowed to have it. Jude and Cardan aren't real, but the person on the other side of that blog is.

second. i really only briefly skimmed the post because, honestly, it's the same argument i've seen everyone who doesn't like QON make. they think because Jude wouldn't burn down villages to get back into Elfhame after having her heart broken, she is, therefore, OOC.

let me tell you why i, personally, disagree with that statement. (TW: discussion of mental health and dissociation under the cut)

i'm going to split this into two parts. one is more anecdotal and the other is more character based.

as you point out, nonnie, Jude is strong. she is fierce, she is determined. but again, she is human. with human feelings. teenage human feelings, at that.

anyone who is not convinced Jude would feel pretty shit for a while after going through her first heartbreak is either too old to remember the rollick of teenage emotions mixed with the legless lord of young love, or they've simply never had their hearts broken before.

if the first, they're looking at Jude's situation with years of maturation behind them, years Jude doesn't yet have at that point. i think people forget this sometimes. Jude is just a teenager. and they probably want her to keep fighting because it's what they didn't do, but wished they had.

if the latter..... oh, my sweet summer child.

when i was young and in love (kind of) and then suddenly had everything ripped away from me within the span of a month, i honestly couldn't tell you what happened that summer. because i don't remember. i was backpacking but all i remember is sleeping well into the afternoon almost every day. lashing out at my friends for stupid shit. not eating. taking every chance i could get to isolate myself. being fine one moment, then in the next feeling like i was going to burst into tears out of nowhere. i had my first dissociative episode. it lasted for three days.

now, i'm probably not as scary as Jude. but i'd like to think i'm stubborn and spiteful enough to warrant some shadowy semblance. what i became was not who i or anyone else wanted or expected me to be. i wanted to be angry and rage and seek revenge, but i couldn't. people expected me to get over it, but i didn't. i was just stuck in this awful liminal place.

heartbreak isn't a single moment where your heart is shattered and then you immediately begin to pick up the pieces. that's unrealistic. heartbreak shatters you and then steals what's left away into a dense fog and laughs as you fumble around blindly on your hands and knees, searching for the lost pieces of yourself.

so, as nonnie pointed out, it is okay for Jude to be sad. it is more than okay. it's what we should expect.

okay, now on to my character based argument. to me, anyone who has this interpretation of QON has severely misjudged Jude's character throughout the series as a whole.

it's true, Jude might put on the facade of tough scary lady with sword–and sure, to a certain extent that is part of her. but Jude is not inherently wicked or menacing or unforgiving, even if she can be at times.

just because we can be a thing doesn't mean we are that thing. mere adjectives simply do not have the breadth to define us, your honours. we exist in multitudes, or however the fuck that Walt Whitman quote goes.

i'm not going to comb through the entire series for moments where Jude is not scary or menacing because, frankly, there are a lot. if you're not actively looking for the moments where she is terrifying, i think you'll see her kindness, her gentleness, even at times her grace, quite plainly.

i'd also like to point out that the times in which Jude is any of those scarier things are all when she is literally terrified for her life. it's a survival tactic. be scared or be the scariest thing in the room. easy choice from where i'm standing.

now in terms of Jude's exile, Cardan is a little dumb here, but not in the fanon himbo Cardan way. just in the normal "dude madly in love" way. by exiling her to the mortal world, he thought he was giving her what she wanted: safety and a clever riddle to solve. because she can't break, right?

he also sent her away for selfish reasons. her safety was more absolute in the mortal world and he couldn't risk losing her again. plus, he wanted to show off his cleverness, smug prick that he is.

but what Jude actually wanted were the things he promised her in his vows: to be the Queen of Elfhame, and, ultimately, him. she wanted a place to call home and Cardan by her side. he took the only things she truly desired in the world away from her by exiling. so yeah, homegirl has every right to be sad.

to close, i think people with this perspective of QON have the same view of Jude as Cardan once did, and it comes from a place of well-intentioned misunderstanding. he thought she could not break. so did the anti-QON crowd.

they were wrong.

–Em 🖤🗡

more thoughts on Emotional!Jude

more theories & analysis

#for legal reasons this is my opinion 😙✌️ #you don't have to agree w me #ahhhh this was a big long ramble more than actual analysis but whatever i'm tired and it's shark week #thanks for the ask nonnie!! 💜 #asked and answered #em answers #nonnie #tfota #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #holly black

[spoopyredacted]

unheavenly creatures

chapter four

clan leader mand’alor!din x shayr’la(ofc) 1.7k

masterlist / pinterest

chapter one / chapter three / chapter five

description: we have some soft dummies on our hands yall. dancing, cheeky comments, palm kiss?!

a/n: @tiffdawg is literally a godsend. she listens to me ramble on and on about these two and always helps me through my writing blanks. i love her with all my heart. i decided to break this chapter up because one(1) im excited, and two(2) the next two scenes are heavy and i didn’t want to wait a million years to update again. so we get a shorter chapter this time.

———

Don’t you care?

Yes.

———

TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE JOR’ADIR BE NUHUR

The Mand’alor paces back and forth in the throne room, waiting for Shayr’la to show. I should have just found her myself, Paz might— The door creaks open, interrupting his train of thought, and Shayr’la walks in. Her long golden dress stands contrast against her dark skin and the Mand’alor thinks, like he has so often lately, about how beautiful she looks. 

He walks to her, the sound of his boots echo around the room, with a greeting resting just on the tip of his tongue but the closer he gets the more he notices she’s upset. Her cheeks are blotchy and her normally clear brown eyes are now red rimmed and puffy. She’s been crying. “Ka’ra?” He reaches her and cups her face in his gloved hands, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

She doesn't want to answer him, scared her voice will crack and give away too much emotion. She brings her hands up to cover over his and she nods, nuzzling into his palms. 

“Okay, Ka’ra.” She knows that he doesn’t believe her, but she can’t bring herself to tell him what Paz said, that he felt compelled to say those things to her. 

Did he not see that she did care? 

She just… It takes… It hurts.

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to calm herself back down. Inhaling the leather and woodsy musk that is ultimately him, she turns her face into the leather of his gloves and kisses it. Not realizing what she’s done until it's too late, just caught up in the comfort he always seems to provide for her.

Oh.

Shayr’la clears her throat, trying to break the tension she’s accidentally created. “Paz said you wanted to see me.” She looks up into the black T of his visor. “Did you need something, Mand’alor?”

She hasn’t moved away.

“I.. uh, yes.” He slides a hand to the back of her neck, slow , and takes a small step towards her. “We need to practice.” She cocks her head to the side, a mimic of the Mandalorians around her, he wonders if she realizes that she has picked up the little quirk.

Cute.

“Practice?”  she questions. “Practice what?” He invades her senses, her space, her mind, her soul . And she allows him to maneuver her head, tilting it up with a thumb to her jaw. She unconsciously moves closer to him, like an invisible string tying them together; a pull to one another that neither wants to admit to and yet they have no control over. 

The rasp of his voice comes through the modulator answering her, “Te redalur.”

———

The Mand’alor starts the music, something with a flowing beat that repeats itself and is easy to keep time to. He walks back to the center of the room where she is waiting for him. She looks nervous, hands twisting with one another.

“Just follow my lead, Ka’ra.” He nods his helmet at her in encouragement trying to swallow down his own nerves.

Shaking out her arms to loosen up, she pushes back the voice of Paz telling her she doesn’t belong, that she doesn’t care. She does. Taking a deep breath in, she steadies herself, looks back, and acknowledges that she is ready.

For anything.

The Mand’alor lifts his right arm, bent at the elbow, palm facing Shayr’la and she mimics him. Taking a step to her he matches their forearms together but doesn’t clasp her hand. He walks her through the first few steps his eyes taking in her form and the determination set in her face. Half to make sure she is following his lead and keeping in time, and half because he can’t drag himself to look away from her.

They twirl around the room in time with the music, only stumbling in their steps occasionally, “You’re doing very well Ka’ra,” she looks up to the visor, a smile gracing her lips, but before she can speak she trips over her feet as they spin and he's there catching her, pulling her into him before she has a chance to fall. The laugh that escapes her causes his heart to clench and warmth blooms in his chest. 

He wants to hear her laugh more. 

He wants to cause that laughter. 

———

The Mand’alor watches her as she tries to take in the next steps he showed her, a series of side steps and a flourish of a spin to end it. It was a simple end to the dance that they have been practicing for a while.

“Why do they call you Vizsla?” Shayr’la keeps her head down, memorizing the steps she’s taking. The question has been plaguing her for months but she never felt that there was a good time to ask, and if the name is soon to be her own she might as well ask now, “Is it really your last name?”

He steps to her before answering, pulling her into his arms, they start again when the beat begins its repeat, “No, no it is not.” He’s not surprised by her questioning and he's happy to oblige her. “A long time ago on another planet there used to be many of us, many different clans, many different leaders, Alor’s—” 

She interrupts his explanation, looking up to him excited that she recognizes one of their words, “The children have called me that, I wasn’t sure what it meant.” There’s a sparkle in her eye. He can tell she wants to learn, that she wants to know more about them. She wouldn’t spend hours in the story halls translating and scribing the stories if she didn’t.

Paz is mistaken. She does belong here. She wants to be here.

Right?

“—yes,” he takes her hands pulling her into him bringing their bodies flush together, a small puff of air escapes her as one of his arms wraps around her waist, settling into the dip of her lower back. She looks up to him, it almost never fails that she finds his eyes and this time is no exception.

“You will be my wife,” he doesn’t mean for it to sound so possessive, but it does. And he likes it. Does she? “So in turn you will be their leader.” He spins her out, letting her go as far as he can, until they are only held together by each other’s fingertips. “That is, if you want to be.”

He pulls her back into him, his arms resuming their hold around her body. They’re close, so close , that if it weren’t for his helmet they would be breathing each other in, consuming one another. 

If they wanted.

Shayr’la’s eyes dance across the emotionless helmet, forever seeing her own reflection looking back at her. Never the face beneath. She wonders what he looks like, if his eyes are as kind as she thinks they are. If his voice is just as rough and pleasant sounding without the modulator. Does he have stubble or a beard lining his face? Or does he shave everyday to keep it from irritating?

How does he look when he smiles?

He’s so caught up in her gaze that he hasn’t realized he’s stopped talking. Stopped moving. They’re just staring at each other. Wrapped up in each other’s arms. The Mand’alor drags his gloved hand up her spine sending a shiver through her body and pulling her out of her own thoughts.

“Mand’alor?” she whispers out, not wanting to break whatever is happening.

His hand rubs at the bare skin between her shoulder blades, he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows he doesn't want to stop. “I— sorry, Ka’ra,” he apologizes, his own voice just barely caught in his vocoder. Though he doesn’t take any movement to stop the drag of his hand along the edges of her dress at her back, or to separate himself from her embrace.

In a hushed tone she asks “Do you want to take it off?”

He cocks his helmet to the side in confusion and shock at her question. His hand stilling at her back with a finger hooking underneath the fabric there, “You— I—” the Mand’alor stumbles over his words as his brain tries to catch up to what Shayr’la asked him.

“What?”

Smirking at his bewilderment and finding his stupor amusing she wonders, “Do you ever want to take it off?” 

“The helmet?” he slides his finger along the back of her dress, sliding up her shoulder. He plays with the fabric that lays gently there, almost teasing it. Moving it only slightly, gauging her reaction. He doesn’t see any objection in her eyes. No hesitance to his movement. Maybe only a hesitance in wanting to let herself crave.

She nods. Whether it be from his spoken, or unspoken question he doesn’t know. But he’s not going to argue with her. 

Not when the leather of his glove drags across her skin. Caressing it. Feeling the warmth from her skin bleed through. How would it feel against his bare skin? 

Against his palm? 

His lips.  

They can’t help but gravitate towards one another.  Drawn in by something neither one wants to put a word to. Too afraid it could break. That it could shatter into a million pieces and then they would never be able to put it back together. So she looks away from him, eyes cast down to the few necklaces that lay against his chest. Reaching out to touch them, her fingers dance over the chains and beads there. 

What do they mean?

“Recently.” His voice timid, just picked up by the helmet. Shayr’la closes her eyes at the feel of his gloved hand rounding her shoulder and dragging along her collarbone to rest at the base of her throat. 

A pause.

A moment.

A break.

A swallow.

And then movement. His fingers curl around the back of her neck while his thumb caresses the hollow of her neck. He glides his hand up, tilting her head to look directly at him. Eyes open— wide, and dilated, and bright.

And there’s a fire in her stare.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

———

Te redalur - the dance

Jor’adir be nuhur - celebration of good times

@mylifeliterally @tintinwrites @damerondjarin @shadow-assassin-blix @mikeisthricedeceased @djxrxn @theocatkov @buckstaposition @wrestlingfae @mostly-megan @tiffdawg @generaldamneron @softpedropascal @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @maybege @ollypopp @housekenobi @lettherebrelight @himbodjarin @the-bird-suit @obaby-wan @mitchi-c @nominalnebula @perropascal @roxypeanut @neverlandlibrarian @adampage @johnc0nstantine @goldafterglow @skylerrae-solo @bisexual-space-slut @sin-djarin @mandoplease @blue-writes-a03 @velvetmel0n @opheliaelysia @veuliee2 @eternallyvenus @gallowsjoker @mrpascals @thirstworldproblemss @smarchit @unstoppableforcce @haley-the-comet @stardust-galaxies @wanderlustmags @littlevodika @roxypeanut

(i have to tag the rest in a reblog because this website is stupid)(also can y’all let me know if you got the notification)

#the mandalorian #sw #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #cl!din #julia tries writing

[mingot-studios]

Things currently polluting my mind (will be added to as i think of things)

 How bad the Star vs. Finale was, and weather i should even bother trying to watch the show again at this point

The fact that the next JoJolion chapter is coming out soon and I STILL haven’t read 107 with my mom even though I’ve already read it

Not being caught up on One Piece and having 0 IDEA of whats happening at this poin as well starting to flaws with the series (racism, transphobia, and homophobia) that i knew was there but chose to ignore and weather it should hinder my relationship with the series. Also wanting to murder Oda for demoting Franky to ‘Pervy Grandma’ (srsly wtf oda)

Upset Infinity Train was cancelled even though i never watched it, and wonder why the fans cry for it to come is suddenly not happening?

The fact i’m going to be returning to in person schooling which is my personal HELL

my brother leaving for college upstate (Me and my brother have never really been that close, we fight alot but I cant imagine life without him)

The fact that my procrastination has gotten so bad that I nearly had to retake PE, World History, and English

The Owl House coming back on the 12th but i had downloaded the first 2 episodes but haven’t watched them and debating if i should, also having a meltdown  over Disney screwing the show over and having its third be 3 or 4 (i cant remember) 44-minute specials

The fact that me and brother STILL haven’t finished our Yume 2kki Let’s Play

I haven’t been watching anime regularly with my mom

I haven’t posted anything to my DeviantArt or YouTube in months

I have so much energy right now but no outlets

I still haven’t tried out my drawing pad i got for my birthday last year

I have so many drawing ideas but my spiral sketchpad is filled up and I have yet to get a new one

Ive many intricit and detailed story ideas that i know im gonna forget if i dont write them down bu due my procrastination i haven’t done so im prolly gonna lose everything

The fact Thurston Waffles hasn’t posted anything since late April as well as the fact that he’s got Kidney problems

So many ideas for videos but I only have WindowsMovieMaker and the HumbleBundle my mom got me idk YEARS ago won’t install

I’m gonna be 17 at the end of September, which i only have until next June before I graduate High school, have to give up my Chromebook, start thinking about college and getting a job, possibly moving out and living on my own, the knowledge that my parents are in their late 50′s and early 60′s so hey might be gone sooner than most parents and I dont know how to function without my parents doing everything for me

These weird tingles ive been getting in my body for he pas couple days

The fact that im not gonna a kid soon and im gonna have to grow and stop doing whatever i want whenever i want and i’m gonna never accomplish my dream of creating a successful cartoon and will probably end up at a dead end job I HATE just to make ends meet and eventually dying alone because I dont wanna be in a relationship or have kids

Everything is too overwhelming. The light, the sound, my thoughts, its all too much. I wanna curl up into a tiny ball and disappear from this awful experience called life

Capitalism

i hate being so passionately when i’m upset, everyone else is calm but i have meltdowns and freaks outs over things i shouldn’t even care about or are miniscule (Comes with being autistic i guess)

I have 0 patience and i hate it

I’m starting to regress back to being a childish brat after all the progress i’ve made

i’m constantly surrounded by either criticism or praise that contradict each other so i dont know what to believe about myself

the fact that i have so many great story ideas but i cant write a cohernt thought with proper grammer or sytax or spelling o save my life, nor the art skill or the patience or the tech to draw comics

i haven seen my therapist in days and i need help but i know im not actually gonna change 

having gender panic

I have no in person friends and ive forgotten how to interact with people

ive become a noodle limbed nerd

Ive gotten super skinny

I want someone o break through my shell and help me change bu I know thats just a fantasy and im the only one who can do that but im too lazy to put effort into it

everything i used to enjoy suddenly feels tedious monotonous repetitive and uninteresting

I feel trapped and scraed 

The fact after being bulied so much the only way i can really assert myself is to get violent and angry because they would want me breakdown and cry

I have this image in my head of who i want to be; And badass that people including adults, are scared of and know not to fuck with me or they’ll get hurt (Basically Jotaro, bu I’ve had this image since before i even knew what jojo was) And the fact I KNOW that i’s a pointless endever and that i only dig my own grave when i get mad but its like ingrained Branded into my my psyche so im always going to larp that vision of myself but not get anywhere and only regress further

I want to address my problems and change but I never do and stay static and regress

I cant take crticisim even though i know its true

The reason im so scared of writing fanfiction is because i know its gonna be a mess despite what i think is a great story and people will end up mocking it and what little self confidence i have will shatter

Star Vs wasted potential

the fact that I dont know where to take the whole “Rubi dies at the  end of he first season but comes back o life except she’s not actually she’s just a walking meat sack containing an anchint eldritch god that will, sooner or later, burst out of her and destroy her body, and she’s fighting for control of her ow body due to Skarlotus trying to devor her soul and Data’s medience is only delaying the inevitable” storyline of my concept cartoon, The Crypto Club

I have an AMAZING idea for an Invader Zim storyline that has fascism, rascism, mass genocide, child soldiers, political intrigue, propaganda, baiscally space hitler and more (okay that came out sound REALLY bad, but NONE of it painted as good!) It also involves Zim and Dib coming together to stop an even bigger threat and there is a really ironic ending that brings my OC GA83′s story full circle

#the owl house #yume 2kki #thurston waffles #star vs the forces of evil #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jojolion #one piece #vent #save infinity train #infinity train #amphibia #gravity falls #the crypto club #invader zim #Princess Ovilium Midorihato Metamorphosis Androma Serugi The First #Princess Ovil

[weepingvoidpenguin]

The Gods’ Blessing (Pt. 5)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,

Summary: In your world, everyone had a soulmate. That’s just how things went. Everyone had some sort of Indicator that their other half was out there, be it telepathy or a red string that connected these two strangers. Yours was one unspoken of, in fact, you’d never heard anyone say that they had the same Indicator as you. And because of this rarity, you longed to meet the person who could gift you with what you lacked, maybe not so much so to be with the person but more so to finally see what others took for granted. Yet, you held onto the hope that one of your best friends was your Meant-To-Be but he has his eyes on another girls and the little green monster slowly engulfs you at the deterioration of your hope.

Warning: Like 1 F-Bomb, angst, reader being reckless

Word Count: 4.3K

Author’s Note: I’m literally so sorry this took so long to come out but I lost motivation to write and randomly got it back and now I know where I want to take this story so I’m dedicating some time to this series again. ALSO I wanted to thank EVERYONE from the bottom of my heart who has asked to be tagged or complimented my writing it means SO MUCH and helps me continue to write. Everyone who has requested to be tagged will be; I’m just dumb and didn’t know I could privately respond to asks and I didn’t want to spam my page with answers so... yeah I know, I’m dumb lol ENJOY

(CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO FIND THE ORIGINAL GIF FOR MY STORY BECAUSE WTF I SPENT LITERALLY 30 MINUTES LOOKING FOR THE RIGHT ONE BUT COULDN’T FIND IT AND I USED THE SAME TAGS AS ALWAYS AND YES THE GIFS ARE STILL THERE SOMEONE HELP PLS AND THANK YOU) (AND ALSO LITERALLY CAN’T ADD A READ MORE LINE BECAUSE I COPY AND PASTE FROM WORD SO IM SORRY TUMBLR IS JUST TRYING ME TODAY)

  You let the thunderous knocks at your door rack for nearly five minutes before you trudged out of bed with your blanket still encased around you. You kept your eyes glued to your carpet, watching as your feet slid along the floor on your way to the door. Your hand hovered over the knob as hesitation ceased your actions. 

  What if it was Peter at your door? Your heart twisted at the thought and you couldn’t stop how your hand shot out and grasped the handle. Damn how your body could betray you. 

  You noticed how your actions slowly became less your own over the past few days. Naturally, you could sit, lay, stand, eat, drink and etc. on command but whenever the thought of the brunette boy shattered its way through the walls you’d created, your hands flew towards your phone every single time. You had desired Peter, desired for him to reach out to you and clear the air, answer the questions consuming your mind, just talk to you in any way. Maybe his words wouldn’t make you feel better but at least his voice would soothe the storm brewing in your stomach.

  You had skipped school the last two days, claiming to have a fever to your mother who, as a doctor, knew better. But she was an understanding woman and gave you the time she suspected you needed to deal with whatever was bothering you. She’d tried to get you to talk but each attempt was met with silence and isolation so she left you be, only occasionally leaving a warm drink on your nightstand.

  You hadn’t just isolated yourself from your mother though; you’d completely disregarded the messages you were getting from MJ and Ned. You tried to keep away from your phone, in all honesty. You wanted to disconnect, to just feel what you felt and ride the wave until the waters soothed themselves. But with the amount of times you’d checked your inbox for a new message from Peter or merely went back to read old texts that used to bring a smile to your face, you’d say disconnecting had failed miserably. In fact, every time you checked your phone only made the sinking feeling in your stomach liven with a fresh ache and you’d lay right back down.

  Your window remained locked now. For the most part. Some nights, for about an hour or so, you’d unlatch it, idiotically hoping that somehow Peter would be aware of your actions and know that you, in a moment of weakness, wanted to see him again. That your silent invitation had been noticed and he would come running to you. But, of course, it didn’t work like that.

  You were released from the deep constraints of your thoughts with another set of rapping on the door. You sighed and brought yourself to look through the peephole only to be met with an eye already glaring through it. You let out a quiet shriek at the expression strewn about MJ’s face and slowly unlocked the door.

  She didn’t wait for you to open it though, taking matters into her own hands and flinging the entryway open to storm through and slam shut behind her. You stood frozen, watching as she glowered with her arms crossed over her chest. You two stood in silence like that for a few moments and she continued to stare, waiting for you to give an explanation for your behavior for the past few days.

  She knew better than to think you were sick. Even when you were sick you always messaged her back but this mood was something she had yet to experience in all her years of friendship with you.

  “So?” She practically snarled and you gulped.

  You scanned her up and down. She was entirely on the defense here. Her arms crossed, foot tapping on the ground and the disapproving look of the century plastered on her face all scrambled together to serve you one very pissed off MJ.

  She waited for a response, not breaking her composure for even a fraction of a second. The anger radiating off her body was more than you could handle in the moment, especially when it was accompanied with the sorrow encasing your very being.

  Her expression softened in the slightest as she studied you, noting how you couldn’t meet her gaze, not that it had been a warm one to begin with but still. Your hair was in shambles and the deep, dark circles under your eyes conveyed more than you were willing to bring yourself to admit. And when you finally looked up at her she took your desperate embrace with ease; all of her anger diminishing as she held you.

  “Hey,” She soothed, running her hand up and down your back through the blanket, “what’s going on?”

  You looked up at her, only slightly pulling back from the hug, “There’s something I have to tell you,” ~   That first day that you had kicked Peter out of your apartment he didn’t go on patrol that night. He was too distraught. Instead, he trudged home with his head hung low and his thoughts drowning him in regret.

  He’d been weak that afternoon. He couldn’t help it. It’d been so long since you two had hung out together alone, aside from the rare occasion last week, and so much had happened within that time. 

  That first night, when the two of you kissed and the stars had come to life for the first time in his existence, everything in those few moments had been perfect; no, better than perfect. The world had burst to life under your touch and suddenly his years of yearning and longing for you had made sense. The world had been right and just for once. For one goddamn minute.

  And then, because of that moment that he hungered to relive again, he’d lost you. Maybe permanently. 

  How could he have been so stupid? How could he have just given in to the desire pining for your touch? He couldn’t have helped it. The way you looked, the smile gleaming on your face, the way you were straddling and hovering above him; it all called out to him. You called out to him. His eyes traced down from your eyes to your neck and then lower to the bit of exposed cleavage in his face. He blushed in the moment, feeling guilty for letting his mind wander to those treacherous places that caused his imagination to spiral. And, oh, how his thoughts spiraled. 

  That need to touch you, to hold you, to kiss you, to be with you had made him weak in the moment. But had it really been so wrong to give in? After all, you are his soulmate and if it were okay to touch anyone the way his body had urged him to, why not the person that he was meant for and was meant for him?

  No, it hadn’t wrong to give in because from the look that glazed your eyes and elicited your body when you connected, he knew you wanted to give in too. He knew you wanted to be with him just as much as he wanted to be with you. 

  And that’s why he wanted to go over that day. He had planned to tell you everything. He even had his suit in his backpack to show you but then it all went wrong. He’d prematurely exposed the truth but in a way that made it seem secretive. He hadn’t meant to be secretive; he was just scared.

  Plus, he finally had the girl he’d been working to get for the past few months and he had to just throw that all away. At that point, his feeling for Liz were real just miniscule compared to the ones he attempted to drown out for you. Not to mention, Liz liked Peter as he was without the hero complex but (Y/N) liked Spider-Man, a literal superhero. 

  Maybe that had been the reason that (Y/N) had kicked him out so quickly. Was she disappointed that her mysterious hero had turned out to be none other than Peter Parker? Was being Peter really that bad in her eyes? No, (Y/N) loved Peter . . . platonically. 

  But Liz . . . Liz liked Peter, not Spider-Man. (Y/N) didn’t want her shy best friend, she wanted her mysterious hero. (Y/N) didn’t like Peter for who he was, only who he presented himself to be. Her feelings were solely based on a hidden character under the red and blue suit. She didn’t want Peter Parker. She couldn’t want Peter Parker. Peter Parker wasn’t enough for her and he never would be.

  He shook his head at the thoughts, hating how his conclusion could tug at his chest so fiercely. Nonetheless, he let himself fester on that idea until it became his mentality.

  (Y/N) was not interested in Peter. ~   You could hardly communicate everything that had happened over the course of the last few weeks to MJ with all the tears and sobs interrupting the story. She caught onto the gist of it, though. Peter was Spider-Man, Spider-Man was her soulmate, Peter was with Liz, etc. 

  She let you cry until you fell asleep that night and she stayed with you the next day so she could force you to go to school, even if it was Friday. 

  Her alarm woke you up the next morning and you groaned as you shoved your pillow over your ear to drown out the sound. MJ rolled around, cutting the alarm off and cuddling closer to you before shoving you out of bed.

  “What the hell?” You asked, reaching out for the pillow that was pried from your hold. 

  MJ held the cushion just out of your reach and dangled it in the air, “Good morning!” She cheerily shouted, very unlike herself.

  You groaned in response and shoved the blanket over your head just for that to be ripped away as well. “Get up, you’re coming to school,”

  A huff escaped your lips as the sunlight shone even from behind closed eyelids. You wanted to argue and stay home but you would just get hell for it and end up going to school anyway so you used that time of argument to get ready instead. MJ had woken you up early enough to let you shower, as you hadn’t recently, and made breakfast while you got ready.

  In the stillness of your room, you observed your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were still puffy from the crying and there was a slight dry rash from wiping your nose so much but other than that, you looked practically normal. You ran your hands down your body, hating that you put in a little extra effort in your looks to catch Peter’s attention. In the midst of shamefully admiring yourself, you caught a glimpse of the pictures tacked onto the wall behind you. You whirled around and your gaze landed on the brightest of them all. A picture of the four of you sitting in the grass, MJ on one side of you and Peter on the other. You removed the tack from the photo and smiled down at it. The picture had been taken the first time you all hung out together, the same day you’d told MJ about your feelings for Peter only to be met with a knowing look from her. She could read you like a book that woman. 

  “Hey, breakfast is ready-” MJ burst through the door and cut herself off at the sight of you. “What’s that?”

  “Do you remember this photo?” You asked, holding it up for her to see.   Her eyes softened and she had a small smile, “I have this same picture in a drawer somewhere,”

  “Do you remember what I told you that day?”

  MJ looked up at you, her eyebrows furrowed as she waited for an explanation.

  “That’s the day I told you that I thought I liked Peter,” She looked down at the photo and handed it back to you, “It’s like . . . since the beginning it’s been him. It’s always been him.” You placed the photo back in its original place, “And now I know why,”

  Later that day in the cafeteria, the table had been full of tension. MJ throwing glares at Peter, Peter brushing them off his shoulder, your head crammed into a textbook, Ned trying to break the tension and Liz having no idea what the hell was going on. 

  “You guys are so cute together,” MJ cheerily spoke up after a while, looking at Peter and Liz’s interlocked fingers.

  “Thanks,” Peter stated bluntly, his gaze fixated on MJ.

  “I just didn’t think you would end up dating a guy like that, Liz, but now that I’m looking at it, it makes sense,”

  “A guy like what?” Liz raised an eyebrow, concerned there was something about Peter that she didn’t know.

  “A liar-”

  “MJ, can you help me with this equation?” You interjected, hoping she hadn’t heard what MJ said.

  “I don’t know why you’d need my help, you’re the best one here at math,” she slyly retorted, not once breaking her eye contact with Peter.

  “I’ll help you,” Ned spoke up and the both of you exchanged worried glances. It suddenly dawned on you that Ned probably already knows Peter’s secret; which means, he already knew about you as well.

  “Anyway,” Liz spoke up after a few tense moments of silence, “I’m throwing a party tonight at my place, everyone’s invited!” 

  “And why would we-”

  “Sounds fun! We’ll be there!” You spoke up quickly, glaring at MJ to shut her up. She rolled her eyes but sat back in her chair and complied.

  You’d kept your head down for most of the lunch period but had to snap your attention up to keep MJ tamed. Your gaze wandered over to the direction you felt a pull coming from and was surprised when you met Peter’s gaze. You were almost frozen, caught in a mixture of crying, panicking and keeping it together. Still, you couldn’t pry your attention from Peter so you dwelled in it instead. 

  He looked tired. The dark circles under his eyes were more apparent than usual and his hair appeared to lack a bit of life, the curls on his face falling flat rather than their normal bounciness. You let yourself study the man before you and that’s when it happened again.

  Instead of his normal physique, an outline of his person took form and the wounds on his body glowed to catch your attention. He had a few cuts and scrapes here and there, some bruises on his shins and forearms, not to mention the busted eyebrow that you’d failed to notice under what you assumed was makeup. You squinted your eyes at this and Peter seemed to catch on to what was happening. He grew uncomfortable under your gaze and forced yourself to retract it, fighting the urge to reach out your hand and place it over the split skin on his face. Not that he’d appreciate it.

  You sighed and closed the textbook before shoving it in your bag and standing up seconds before the bell rang. MJ followed suit and walked you to your next class, knowing you usually take the route with Peter and punched your shoulder lightly when it was time for her to go.

  “Meet at my locker after school? I need help picking an outfit and we can stop by your place to pick some stuff up,” 

  MJ nodded in agreement and you turned to enter the classroom but walked into a hastily walking Peter. You reached out your hand to steady yourself and grabbed his forearm which, unfortunately, was not covered in fabric.

  The warmth in your fingertips soon sprawled all over your body and you could moan at the ease it brought along with it. The ache in your heart subsided and the strength of the pull towards him tripled until you really were being shoved against him, your chest pressed against his own and his arms wrapped around you as if to keep you there.

  You wanted to pull away but the fact that Peter was even holding you right now soothed the agony in your bones and you needed this for just a few seconds more. You let the sensation overtake you, submitting yourself to its enticing comfort and when Peter’s hands gripped the back of your shirt tighter to pull you deeper into him, you let him.

  This was right. Being with him was right. How could it not be? How could being with your soulmate be wrong? The two of you were literally made for each other as were all soulmates but there resided something deeper between both of you that caused a very physical gravitational pull to one another. Though you’d heard of instances similar to that, you’d never heard of it being physical, only an emotional pull. And that physical pull somehow forced you two into each other’s arms where you were fighting the urge to give in.

  With the little strength that you could muster, you pried yourself from him and you exchanged a worried glance with each other, “Did you-”

  “Feel that? Yeah,” he said, bewildered at what just happened.

  “So, you didn’t-”

  “Pull you? No. And you didn’t-”

  “Suddenly forgive you and throw myself into your arms?” You spoke with venom and cocked your head to the side, the little distance between you allowing some of your anger to return. “No,”

  Peter wanted to roll his eyes and brush off the comment, he really did but he could see through you. The pain you tried to hide was laid barren for him, he couldn’t miss it if he tried. It shouted for his attention, demanding his explanation and wanting nothing more than to dissipate and leave you at peace. But he couldn’t grant you that. He couldn’t bring himself to beg for you when you didn’t even want him; at least, not the real him.

  You finally walked away and took your usual seat in class, forcing your gaze down so you wouldn’t accidentally make eye contact with Peter as he took his place next you. You chuckled at that. ~   Liz’s house buzzed with energy, most of the people already arrived and under some kind of influence. You had to give it to her, she knew how to throw a party. Not that you’d been to very many of them considering MJ was your best friend.  

  MJ appeared beside you with two cups in her hand and offered you one, “Oh, I figured you were going to chug them down simultaneously,”

  “Don’t tempt me.” She laughed and you took a gulp from yours, finishing it off in a few seconds, “Maybe you would like to do that, though,”

  You smiled sheepishly, “I’m gonna get another one,”

  “Make sure you leave some for everybody else,” she hollered over the music.

  You giggled and sauntered over to the table, ignoring the beginnings of a lure coming from your left. You plucked one of the cups up and brought the brim to your lips, letting the liquid burn its way down your throat and rejoined MJ.

  “Hey, so I was thinking,” you started, keeping your focus anywhere other than where it wanted to be, “where did you hear that story about the gods and the stars and all that?”

  “Huh?” She shouted over the music and despite the volume of the noise, you could still filter out Peter’s voice through it all.

  You grabbed MJ’s arm and pulled her towards the door, “Outside!” You shouted and she followed.

  Once the fresh breeze hit your face, you took a deep breath in, attempting to clear out any negative emotions. MJ took your hand and led you away from the front of the house where quite a few people were still crowding around and settled on the rooftop. She grabbed a ladder off the floor and held the ladder while you climbed up.

  “What were you trying to say?” She asked once you two had gotten comfortable.

  “I was asking about where you heard the story about being chosen by the Gods,” you stated, taking a sip from the cup and already feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. This cup was definitely stronger than the previous one.

  She cocked her head a little and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

  “You know! About the Gods’ choosing a few special spirits to have this intense love or something,”

  “What are you talking about?” 

  “Like, about my Indicator and the stars and my soulmate,”

  Her eyebrow remained raised in your direction.

  Now it was your turn to get confused, “The story you told me when we were all at your house watching movies. The day I went on the first date with Brad,”

  “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she admitted, a concerned look on her face.

  “Yes, you do! You’re the one that told me that story, how could you not remember it?” you practically yelled. “When I got mad because of Liz and Peter and went to your room, that’s when you told me!”

  “I remember you being bothered but I figured you needed a breather so I let you have it,”

  Was it MJ that had told you? You scoffed, yes, of course it was. Who else would it be? She was the one that walked into the room and comforted you.   “MJ, stop playing,” you scolded.

  “(Y/N) . . . are you feeling okay?” she asked and you glared at her in response. “Dude, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  You shot up from your spot and struggled to find footing so you raised your arms to balance yourself. You had drunk a little more than you thought but managed to steady yourself. MJ held out a hand to you in caution, raising them to catch you.

  “Something’s not right,” you said, taking a small step back from your friend. You were certain it was MJ in the room with you, the memory was clear as day.

  The reason you had even brought it up in the first place was because you wanted to know where she heard the lore from considering you’d never heard anything like it. You had been ashamed of your Indicator because you’d never come to know of any other person who had the same one as you ever. Not even in the history books. It was just completely unheard of. So, why would MJ know the legend? 

  “(Y/N), sit down.” MJ ordered, her words concrete.

  “No, no, no, no, this doesn’t make sense,” you spoke aloud, your mind trying to understand the events of that night. You took half a step back from MJ as if the added distance would deny her truth. And it was her truth. You could always tell when MJ was lying, years of friendship could attest to that but her words were genuine and her confusion was too.

  “Stop moving, (Y/N),” she growled, slowly coming closer to you.

  You created the same distance from you as before and she stopped her movements altogether, her eyes glued to the back of your foot. You tried to wrack your brain around it but no matter how you tried to understand it, it just didn’t make sense. How would MJ know the lore for your Indicator when you’d studied extensively to try and find something-anything to make you feel less alone in your path. How had she just randomly come across such information and why hadn’t you asked her right then and there where she heard it from? 

  “(Y/N)!” You heard your name shouted from behind you and whipped around, the force of the action causing you to tip over the edge of the roof and your heart stopped as you watched MJ jump out to catch you.

  The fall was quick but scarier than any rollercoaster you’d been on. It elicited the same sensations but held more finality to it. 

  “(Y/N)!” MJ screamed from above but you kept your eyes glued to the ground when a figure swung into your line of sight and clung onto you in midair before landing on a patch of grass on the side of the house. 

  The action had knocked the wind out of you and you struggled to regain your breath, your eyes glued to your feet and how they rested against the ground. MJ flew down the ladder and raced with Ned to get to your side. She hadn’t even reached it before she started yelling at you.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” She yelled, kneeling by your side and encasing your face in her hands, failing to draw your attention to her.

  Your body shook uncontrollably, the fear from before just now catching up to you. But it wasn’t the fear from nearly dying. It was from whoever the hell you spoke to in MJ’s house. 

  “Can’t you see she’s scared?” Peter yelled at MJ and you winced. You’d never heard Peter yell like that before.

  Peter picked you up and placed you in his lap, his hands attempted to center you in on him but you merely looked through him. You were out of it and you couldn’t bring yourself to come back to the present.

  “(Y/N),” Peter whispered, worry and fear laced in his tone, “Are you okay?”   It took a minute of letting the fear make its course through you before you zeroed in on Peter’s expression. It was the warmth coming from his hands that brought you back.

  “Who was she?”

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[bluebirdsbluebells]

love lost - part three

pairing: jj maybank x reader

words: 5.8k (i got carried away im sorry)

warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of drugs, angst

a/n: i totally got carried away with this chapter. i was originally just going to keep writing and writing and writing it, but i decided to split it, so there will be a fourth and final chapter after this one. thank you guys so much for the love on this fic. also! the anons that sent in requests, just know that i am working on them! i’ve been a bit slow lately, but i’m trying my best to get them done!

series masterlist

_____

True to your word, you continued to stay away from JJ. Twice you saw him out and about, but you avoided him, keeping your head down and your gaze averted from his own. You could feel him watching you though, waiting to see if you would finally let him back in. That was just something that you knew you couldn’t do. One wrong move and you could be a broken mess on the floor yet again.

When JJ shattered you, you felt as if you lost faith in yourself as well. You could no longer believe anything that he had to say to you, but you felt as if you weren’t any kind of trustworthy either. You felt like you had betrayed yourself; fucked up along the way and created the mess without even realizing its eventual doom.

You tried to stay strong though. You didn’t want Harry to worry any more than he already was. You hadn’t told him about your encounter with JJ on the street, and you hadn’t told him about Rafe’s odd comments either. You thought that it was best to keep quiet and try to move on with your daily activities.

But you weren’t a superhero. Everyone had their breaking point. Maybe you were just unlucky, but it seemed that you had several.

He came up from behind you; swiftly; unnoticed by anyone else. There was a static between his skin and yours as he grazed his fingers along your shoulders, grabbing your attention. You spun around, nearly crashing into the isle of pasta behind you.

“Jesus,” you cursed, stepping away from him. He was too close; you could smell the weed on his breath and the strong odor of his cheap fabric softener. You swallowed tightly. “Can we talk now?” JJ asked, his eyes meeting yours with desperation. They were bloodshot and far from appearing dry, and although he may have been crying, you settled for the alternative. It was unlikely that he would’ve been shedding tears when he reeked of marajuana.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head as you side-stepped him, your breath catching in your throat.

Your mother had asked you to go out and get groceries for dinner that night. JJ was the last person you wanted to see, and you should’ve known that there were no safe places, not even the supermarket on a dreary Wednesday afternoon.

“Please Y/N?” JJ pleaded, stepping back in front of you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as he hovered over you, his hair falling into his reddening eyes. “You’re high,” you commented, your gaze dropping to the floor of the supermarket. There were a few cracks that ran along the tile, and you traced them with your eyes. JJ was wearing a pair of dirtied grey boots with black socks that poked above the tops.

“I came here to see you,” he said, rocking back on his heels. You tried to step around him again, but he moved to the side, blocking your path. In the back of your throat you felt a tickle, and you sucked in a breath, fighting with yourself to keep it together. “You followed me here, didn’t you,” you whispered, your head still staying turned to the ground, but you lifted your eyes to glance at him. “I told you that I would talk to you when I was ready.” “And you’re not ready?” JJ asked, his voice rising slightly. When you winced he licked his lips and lowered it, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. “You’re not ready?” He repeated quietly.

You shook your head, turning your neck to the side. “Get out of the way,” you said, your grip tightening on the plastic handle of your shopping basket. From down the aisle a woman rolled her cart towards the spices, one squeaky wheel screeching against the tile.

“Y/N, I just want to talk to you. I know you don’t trust me, and that’s fine, but I just need to explain myself.” “There’s nothing to explain,” you muttered, pulling your lower lip through your teeth. “It’s perfectly clear.” “It’s not,” he corrected, holding up his hands as if he was trying to steady you, but you didn’t need comfort, you needed to get out of there. “If you would just let me-” “Excuse me,” you mumbled, then you turned on your heel, briskly walking away from him. Your eyes darted to the side as you hurried down the aisle, then quickly slipped into the one over, which was stocked with crackers and chips. You let out a shaky breath, then set down your basket, trying to collect yourself. He was following you. Following you. You had told him that you would give him a chance eventually, but he was too impatient to even respect that you wanted more time.

“Y/N.” He startled you, and you flinched back, nearly tripping over your shopping basket. JJ stood to your left, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He had a blank expression on his face, and if you had to pick one word for the look in his eyes you would’ve picked “defeated”.

“I told you that I would talk to you eventually,” you said, stooping down to pick the cart back up. “But that day isn’t today JJ.” “You won’t do it,” he said quietly. “You’ll just keep avoiding me and nothing will ever get said and you’ll slowly forget about me.” Your lips twitched; a sign that you were close to tears.

“You’re wrong,” you replied, shifting the basket between your sweaty palms. What you really wanted to say was ‘I won’t ever forget about you’, but you just couldn’t. “I told you I would listen and I will. Just-” “Now,” JJ said, shaking his head at you. “You’ll talk to me now. I can’t keep putting it off Y/N. I’ve tried to talk to JB but it’s not the same. I need you to hear it from me.” “Hear what from you?” You weren’t sure where the surge of frustration came from, but before you knew it your voice was cracking while you spat back at him. “Hear that you cheated on me with three girls while I was sick in bed on your birthday? It coming from you doesn’t make it any better JJ, because I had to find out from my best friend first. I don’t need to hear shit from you.” He stared at you, and inside of his chest you imagined his heart shrinking, his stomach falling. You wondered how bad his pain was compared to yours. Had he sobbed and shrieked and dry heaved all night until his ribs ached and his mind no longer functioned? You didn’t think so.

“Excuse me,” a quiet voice said from behind you, and you turned around to face an older man with his shopping cart. You felt your cheeks flush red as you stepped to the side. JJ did the same, and the man gave the both of you a small smile as he wheeled the trolley past, his eyes scanning over the items on the shelves. You waited until he had turned the corner before you exhaled a heavy breath, looking away from JJ and back down at the ground. “If you don’t drop what you’re doing and talk to me now, you’re never going to talk to me,” JJ said quietly. You didn’t answer, just swung the basket around your legs. It bumped into your thighs, and JJ watched as you did it over and over, refusing to reply. “Why does it matter if we speak now as opposed to months from today? Y/N it doesn’t.”

“Nothing you can say will ever justify what you did,” you answered, finally looking back up at him. “You know that, don’t know?” You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, and then he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He seemed to take in your words, and then he took a slow step towards you, his head tilting as he spoke quietly. “I just want you to know what happened.” He was close to you. Three feet, maybe two. The smell of the weed wasn’t as strong as it had been when you first encountered him, but it would still be noticeable to any who passed him. You wouldn’t speak to him when he was high. You weren’t much of a smoker, but every once in a while you would hit a blunt or two with him and sit under the sky and talk. You would draw the line though. There were countless times when he would show up at your place completely shitfaced or crossed and you would take him in and look after him for the night, but when he fell asleep or left your place in the morning you were always panged with disappointment. You knew that it was his life and he could do whatever he wanted to do, but you found more often than not that he would smoke and drink to forget whatever he was going through. It was clear to you that he had done that then.

“If you want me to know so bad then tell me right here, right now,” you said. A pained expression crossed his face, and he shook his head. “I can’t.” “You can’t.” “I can’t do it in a fucking supermarket Y/N.” His voice rose, and you clenched your jaw, praying that you hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. Your mother was probably at home wondering what was taking you so long. “Why not?” You whispered back, and your lip quivered as you spoke. “If it’s so important, then just fess up.” “You can’t just…” he trailed off, then let out an aggravated groan, causing the corners of your lips to turn down. “You need to hear everything. I- I haven’t been entirely honest with you Y/N.”

You blinked at him, disbelief on your face. “You think?” You snapped at him, and then you took a step back, shaking your head. You needed to control yourself. You couldn’t let your emotions get the best of you; a clear mind was what you had to have. Breathe in, breathe out. “I haven’t been honest about-” he swallowed “-other things either.”

To you, that was one of the most unbelievable sentences that you had ever heard in your life. JJ had left you broken and in despair after shattering your heart, and he was confessing that he had done not only that, but other things as well. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea what to do. You wanted to burst into tears and fall into a heap in the middle of the store, but you also wanted to slap him straight across the face for telling you in the middle of a fucking grocery store that he had lied to you. Maybe it was what you deserved for not facing the problem head on.

You opened and closed your mouth at him, then slowly stepped away from him, shaking your head.

“You can’t do that to me,” you said hoarsely, and you watched as his face fell. He stepped towards you, holding out his hands, but you shook your head, pulling your basket away from him and picking up your pace. “Listen…” He started, but you held out your hand, urging him to stay back. You could see that he realized he had hurt you, and his shoulders sagged, but he stayed in place. You walked backwards all the way to the end of the aisle, and as soon as he was out of sight you beelined for the self-checkout. Tears brimmed your eyes as you aggressively slid all of your items across the small scanner, trying desperately to get it over with. You needed space, you needed air. You had to get out of that store. “Something wrong ma’am?” You heard a voice call from behind you, and you turned your head to see a middle aged man standing at your right, one hand gesturing to your items. They were scattered across the bagging shelf, and one slab of butter even sat on the ground. You hastily reached down to pick it up, trying to blink back your tears. “No,” you assured, giving him a short nod. “I’m just in a rush.” “Alright then,” he said, returning the nod. “Just be careful there. You may scan something twice.” He most likely was trying to get you to slow down so you didn’t miss scanning anything, but of course that was just his polite way of letting you know that he was watching. You took a deep breath, and then continued to swipe your items more carefully. You stuffed the things into your reusable bags, then hurriedly carried them outside. You didn’t worry about setting them carefully in the back, instead you just threw open the trunk and chucked the bags inside. There was a heavy weight on your chest, and you felt as if you were being threatened for air. As soon as your driver’s side door closed you let out a loud sob, one that wracked your shoulders. Your hands gripped to the steering wheel as you dropped your head, trying to heave in breath after breath. You weren’t sure if any tears actually fell from your eyes, but you still couldn’t see anything. Your vision was blurry and crowded, and suddenly you felt like if you were to try and stand, you would’ve crumpled to the ground, shrouded with betrayal.

There was a light tap on your passenger’s side window, but you didn’t lift your head. You had a pretty fucking good idea on who it was, and you weren’t pleased, but you didn’t have the energy to deny his presence for the millionth time. JJ opened the door slowly, then slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him. For a solid minute or two he didn’t say anything, and the only things that could be heard were the shaky rasps of your breathing and the sticky sound of you peeling your sweaty palms off of the leather of the steering wheel.

“Y/N,” JJ said quietly, and you pinched your eyes closed, your jaw clenching yet again. A pang shot through your chest. It felt like someone was taking Finochietto retractor and spreading your ribs right open.

“Were you lying to me the whole time?” You whispered, opening your eyes, but you kept your gaze at your shoes. Your hands still gripped the steering wheel, and your head still hung between your arms.

JJ was silent, and you darted your eyes over to him. He had a blunt in his hands, but it was unlit, and he only rolled it between his fingers, watching it. “Can we start at the beginning?” He asked quietly, and you dropped your gaze back to your shoes.

“The beginning meaning the beginning of our relationship or the beginning meaning when you started sleeping with other girls.” He sucked in a breath. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.” You rolled your tongue along your teeth, then sniffled before letting out a humourless laugh. “That’s what they all say.” “I’m telling the truth Y/N.” “Five minutes ago you confessed that you were a liar JJ,” you said, raising your head from between your arms. “I don’t know what to believe.” Another pained look crossed his face, and he sighed heavily. JJ tucked the blunt back in his pocket, then ran his fingers through his hair.

“That’s fair,” he said slowly. You could tell he was trying very carefully to pick out the right words. One wrong move and you would kick him out and drive away, and he would probably never speak to you again. “That’s fair Y/N. You have every right not to trust me. I know that you probably won’t believe what I have to say, but I need to tell you. I haven’t been fucking sleeping or eating… I’ve just been thinking about you too much; thinking about how much of a shitty person I am.” “You are a shitty person,” you said, barely hesitating. “You really hurt me, do you know that.” He nodded, his eyes falling to his boots. “I know.” You looked at him for the longest that you had looked at him since the breakup. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes and hollowed out sockets. He had always had a nice golden glow to his skin, but right then he looked pale and sickly, like he truly hadn’t eaten or slept in days. His face showed the look of someone who had been broken, but it was his posture that really sold it for him. His normally radiating confidence was absent. JJ’s shoulders sagged, and he hunched into himself as if he was terrified of the world around him. His fingers jittered and tapped in his lap, and you could practically feel the anxiety that he was feeling. In a way you mimicked each other perfectly. If someone would’ve walked by and seen the two of you, they would’ve never been able to guess who was the cheater and who had been cheated on. You were both at a loss, and that was why you didn’t immediately scream at him to get out. There was a tiny little part of you that almost felt for him, and urged you to hear what he had to say simply out of desperation. That tiny little part of you was the one that wanted to believe that he had never intentionally broken your trust so easily, and that little part of you won.

“Once I get started you have to promise to let me finish,” JJ said, and his eyes lifted from the ground to look over at you. You were hesitant, unsure about whether or not you would be able to let him stay. You were unsure if the news he was about to break to would’ve been worse than what you had already gone through. You were terrified of living those weeks all over again but doubled in pain.

“Y/N?” JJ asked hopefully. “Do you promise?” Gloomily, you nodded. There wasn’t any going back after that.

“I didn’t sleep with anybody. I haven’t slept with anyone since you, I swear to god. Whatever John B. thought that he saw, he didn’t see it.” “They were all over you,” you said flatly, raising your head further from the wheel. It hit your headrest, and you let out a long, slow breath. “JB said they were on your lap-” “They were,” JJ confirmed, and you swallowed tightly. “Let me explain. Just- just let me explain.” “Fine,” you breathed, and your whole body ached. He had just told you that there was a girl on his lap like he was telling you what the time was. He was too casual about it.

Little did you know it was because he was trying to brace himself; prepare for what he was about to say next. He was terrified to admit it to you, terrified that you were going to hate him more than you already did. He had never been so scared in his life. He had prepared speeches to give to you about everything that he had done, but every time that he saw you he always lost everything he thought he had memorized, and he felt like it was the day that the two of you broke up all over again. He was so helpless, but he needed you to know.

“I was having a really good night,” JJ started, and you closed your eyes again. You felt so tense, and you knew that if you didn’t breathe and try to calm down you were just going to take whatever he had to say even harder. “You guys really decorated that place up. It looked really really good Y/N.” You could feel as he looked over at you. “It was so much fun, but I kept wishing that you were there. I took a shot for you. I took five actually, but I kept needing more. I was just downing them like there was no tomorrow.” He chuckled, as if he was recalling the night. The sound of his laughter made your stomach churn, and you dropped your head to the left, opening your eyes slowly. The car beside you was pulling out of it’s stall, and the woman driving gave you a smile before she sped off. You didn’t return it.

“And then I got a text from Barry.”

“Barry?” You asked, your ears perking at the name. So Rafe had been onto something. “Like… Barry Barry?”

“Yes,” JJ answered shortly. “That Barry.” You closed your mouth, feeling another sob start to make it’s way up your throat. Your breath hitched. If the situation actually hadn’t been cheating then…

“Drugs,” you whispered, praying to god that it wasn’t true. You had always looked down on Rafe for doing coke, and you had never expected that your boyfriend -- well, ex -- would’ve been one to do the same. Maybe it wasn’t like that, but nothing seemed to be much of what you expected anymore anyways.

Either JJ hadn’t heard you or he ignored your comment, but he continued on his story, his voice noticeably shakier. “He told me he had a little birthday gift for me,” JJ said quietly. “He said he got someone that was going to drop it off, and to wait for them out the back door. I guess he knew that John B. was having the party or something -- I don’t know -- but he told me to go out back and wait for the guy, so I did.” He paused, and you heard him swallow, his breath catching in his throat. “It wasn’t a guy though. It was three chicks.” Fuck.

“Krissy,” you mumbled, and you felt a single tear escape from your eye. It slid down your cheek, and then plopped onto the grey fabric of your shirt. “I thought they were the gifts and I told them you know ‘no I have a girlfriend’ and shit like that, but they said they were just there to give me the stuff, and then they would leave.” Out of the corner of your eye you watched as he raked his fingers through his hair, then swipe his thumb over his lip. His knee bounced as well, and you chewed on your cheek, worry growing inside of you. “I said they could come in for a second so I could take a look at what they brought and so they came inside and we went in this room. I- I didn’t have any bad intentions at all Y/N, I swear. I didn’t want John B. or anyone to see the-” “What did they bring?” You asked impatiently. You tasted blood from where you had bit your cheek. “What?” “What did Barry give you?”

JJ hesitated. “Drugs.” You felt your stomach drop. Barry had sent three obviously beautiful girls to give your taken boyfriend drugs for his eighteenth birthday. There was something that wasn’t adding up to you, but maybe it was just because you didn’t want to hear it.

“And did you do them?” “Y/N-” “Did you do them at the party?” You pressured. “There? With the girls? With Krissy? Is that when you slept with them?” “I told you didn’t sleep with anybody,” JJ answered firmly, and you sighed, releasing your grip on the steering wheel only long enough to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “But I did do the... the drugs.” “And what was it?” He didn’t hesitate that time.

“LSD.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and then your hands slipped down from the wheel. He had told you that he would never do any hardcore drugs, and he said that he meant it. But he also said that he would never lie to you, and he had.

“They said that I had to do it there, and so I did.” “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” JJ admitted. “And Y/N… I don’t remember much from that night. Everything was a blur, but I wasn’t in there long enough to do anything with them, and they were high but they knew not to touch me.” “But they did.” “I know,” JJ whispered. “I know. I was confused Y/N. I was confused and I couldn’t figure out what was going on and- fuck! I couldn’t even find the fucking door so I just stayed there with them hoping that it would wear off soon enough so I could go back to normal and I could tell how grateful I was that you helped plan such a great party.”

The weight in your chest slipped from your sternum to the pit of your stomach. Even if you wanted to get up and leave him, you wouldn’t have been able to walk or even stand. It seemed like you had a thousand pound sack of bricks on your lap, and your legs were being mutilated. You felt trapped there with JJ in that car. “Why would Barry do that for you JJ?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. Your eyes filled up with tears once they met his, and his lip quivered. He licked it, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his blunt, absentmindedly playing with it. “Because…” he sucked in a breath, then exhaled it slowly. “Because I know him well.” You were scared of what he had to say. You were absolutely terrified to listen, and he was absolutely terrified to speak. There was an unbelievable tension between the two of you, and it threatened to break your bones in on you. “So where’s the lie JJ?” You whispered, your voice shaky. “Where’s the part where you haven’t been entirely honest?” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he winced, looking away. Your expression matched his, and two more tears rolled out of your eyes and down your cheeks.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” he rasped, his tongue swiping over his top lip. “I never knew how.” “Tell me what, JJ?” “The drugs.” “The dru- oh.” You knew then. You knew it. Everything went through your head in a millisecond, and you knew exactly why he had behaved the way he had all those times. It was shattering news. It wasn’t as horrible as you thought it would be because it wasn’t the situation you thought it would be -- which was that he was going to confess he had been cheating throughout your whole relationship -- but maybe in a way it was worse. At least if he had cheated you could’ve expected it because you already had prepared yourself for that confrontation, but the actual truth was something that you hadn’t braced for, and it hurt like a motherfucker. If he had been honest with you from the start you could’ve probably gotten over it, but he had lied to you.

“What kinds of drugs?” You choked out. “All kinds,” JJ whispered back. He was ashamed to tell you. “Coke, tabs of all kinds of shit. Molly- I did molly sometimes.”

“Is that where you always went?” You croaked, your throat incredibly dry. “When you said you have to leave?” He hung his head. For a long time the two of you sat in silence, you with tears streaming down your face and him rigid, barely breathing. At some point he lit up his joint, and he dragged on it until it was nothing but a stump, and then he flicked it out the window. You just stared blankly at the steering wheel, your whole body numb. There was a saying that went something like “I’d rather be hurt by the truth than comforted by a lie”, and in that moment there was nothing that you believed in more. All those months that you doubted yourself led to insecurities; were you good enough for him? Was he losing interest? Did he find you boring to be around? You could’ve saved yourself so much worrying if he had just told you the truth. When you began to doubt yourself you began to ultimately doubt him too, and late at night you questioned his loyalty. In a way though it felt as if you had still been cheated on. Felt like you were being cheated by the full honesty of your relationship. He wasn’t out with another girl, but he was with something that he couldn’t part with, not even to stay an extra hour after dinner, or hit a beautiful night at the beach. But your heart broke for him. He felt the need to lie to you. You wanted to tell him that it was okay, that it was going to be okay, and that you were okay, but you just couldn’t. Your chest was being ripped apart slowly, and you struggled to breathe. You couldn’t walk, you couldn’t talk. You were helpless and torn and hurt more than over; a combined hurt though, both yours and his. “You shouldn’t have had to keep that a secret,” you finally said, drawing out your words slowly as if you were hearing yourself for the first time. You still felt a betrayal, and you turned to him, shaking your head slightly with disbelief. “You would’ve rather had me believe that you cheated on me than admit that you do drugs?”

JJ opened and closed his mouth, and then slowly the tears pooled in his eyes, and his nose twitched like he was trying to hold back a sneeze. But he wasn’t, he was trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to take over his body. His chest crumpled in on him, and your own was panged with guilt and sorrow. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he averted his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was so fucking ashamed to tell you and…” he trailed off and his voice broke as a cry took over his body. Seeing him in pain was a hundred thousand times more awful than just you being in pain. If you thought your heart had broken before, it was nothing compared to what you felt in that moment. You knew what he needed, and you gave it to him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, stretching yourself over the middle console as you pulled him into you.. He heaved heavy sobs into your chest, and you tugged him closer, your hands planting themselves firmly on his back. His body shook as he cried, repeating apologies over and over while your own tears fell into his hair and stained his shirt. “You don’t have to feel ashamed,” you whispered, your voice muffled by blonde locks. “You don’t ever have to feel like you need to hide anything.” “You hated that shit,” JJ sobbed, and you placed one hand on his head, right at the nape of his neck. “You hated it all, but with my dad and all the shit I had to deal with I just lost myself. I didn’t want you to think any less of me.” Your heart panged. Oh, how much you wished you could’ve taken his sadness from him. You wished that you could’ve stripped him from his pain and let him be swallowed by your arms and your embrace.

“Never,” you breathed, pinching your eyes shut. “Never. I would never.” “Molly Y/N. I did molly. I did hallucinogens,” he cried into your chest. You could feel the wetness of his tears seeping through your shirt, and if it was possible at all, you pulled him even closer, feeling the weight of his body against yours. It was uncomfortable over the middle console, but you didn’t care. He was in your arms after so many weeks of not being held, and you missed everything about him. You missed his scent and his laugh and his smile and his jokes and every little quirk that he had. But your pain still stood. “You really hurt me JJ,” you mumbled into his hair. “I expected the worst case scenario.” “Of course,” he whispered. “Of course.” You brought your hand up a little further on his head, then began to stroke your fingers through his hair. You could feel his body relax slightly into yours, and you let out a shaky breath. “Did you tell the others?” He shook his head into your neck. “Sort of. John B. I told almost everything, but he was still upset with me for lying.” You licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your tears.

“Me too,” you said quietly. And the two of you stayed like that for a while longer. After you had stopped crying JJ still continued to sob, and his body didn’t stop shaking until he realized that you probably had somewhere to be. “I shouldn’t keep you,” he said, pulling away quickly and swiping at his eyes. “You bought that shit for a reason.” He gestured to the groceries.  You slowly pulled away as well, wiping at your own cheeks and running a hand through your hair. There was no way that you could hide your breakdown from Harry. You probably had a million texts from your mother too; it was way past dinner.

“I should’ve listened to you sooner,” you admitted quietly, pulling at the hem of your shirt. You could see the tear droplet stains on the fabric, but you didn’t care. “I was just scared of what you were going to say.” “I should’ve told you sooner,” JJ replied, his voice soft and sad. He had never been good with his emotions, you both knew that, but you could tell that everything he said then had come from the heart. He meant every word that he spoke, and he was truly sorry. It was a comforting feeling, to believe him again, but you knew that it would take a long time to trust him again. “I’m sorry I avoided you and- and doubted you.” “Don’t ever be sorry,” JJ rasped, cracking a sad smile as he wiped his eyes again. “Maybe… maybe we can talk tomorrow?” You looked down at your lap, sucking in a long breath. It was a big step to meet with JJ again. Well, meet with him intentionally. But you knew that you had to speak to him more. You weren’t just about to leave him when he needed you most. You nodded. “I’m not going to abandon you JJ. I’m so sorry.”

-

@daygiowvibe @kaylinfayezink @imsad05  @vibin-n-thrivin

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader #jj fic #jj imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank series #lovelostseries #bluebirdsbluebellsfic

[cometkov]

EDITH NOX, feb 2021; (940 words) dug out this old drabble from my drafts and decided to finish/edit it for posting. i still have no clue where im going with this wip, but it felt nice to revisit it after such a long time and do some world building!

I paced around the perimeter of the room, not quite sure why Violet had brought me here—or where here was. She had dragged me down countless corridors, ringed fingers clasped around my wrist, until my head spun.

When we finally emerged from the serpentine maze, the ceiling rose sharply so that I had to crane my neck to see the full height of the walls. Adorned by a gold border, stark against the creamy marble that constituted the rest of the room, a prismatic skylight ushered in sunbeams. Directly beneath laid a large mirror, belly-up, that shattered the rays into fractals of color.

Violet's cheek caught a fitting shade of purple, swarthy skin turning into a deep mahogany. She bent over the mirror for a short eternity, head bowed and eyes closed, until she sighed deeply. “Edith Nox,” she said my name as if it were a burden to her tongue, “Have you no reverence? No respect for the Fates?”

I thought about the various occasions in which the Fox had nearly killed me—both accidentally and intentionally—and how the Owl never seemed to speak to me, only at me. The Cat hadn't even shown up yet so I supposed it was unfair to judge so soon, but the Fates certainly seemed to have a distaste for me.

“Where are we?” I asked, avoiding Violet's question.

“This is the oldest sacellum in Iglanies. It was constructed by Lady Hyacinth of Eden.”

I approached the mirror, looking into it as if all the answers I was seeking would be broadcast in the sky. All I was met with was my reflection and a few stray wisps of cotton circling my head from beyond the skylight. “Lady Hyacinth.”

“Do you know of her?”

Lady Hyacinth predated kings and queens, but not by much. She lived during the time Momma liked to refer to as the In-Between.

“The In-Between,” she would sign to me over the kitchen table or as we sat below the rustling oak tree in the sunny afternoon, “Was a dark time. People were still recovering from the Great Disaster, trying to rebuild their broken societies to accommodate magic. Lady Hyacinth was one of the brave heroes who helped turn Earth from a post-apocalyptic wasteland to the thriving planet we have today.”

Violet exhaled gustily, unclasping her hands and pulling herself to her feet. “If you cannot give me a simple answer, the education system has truly failed you, Nox.”

“She was an architect and priestess famous for building a water shrine that people claimed could heal any sickness.” A gleam of indigo from the mirror fell over my eye. I wondered what color Violet saw as she met my gaze.

“The Elysian Fountain. Lady Hyacinth constructed the basin entirely of quartz to purify the crippling terror plaguing society. For her devotion, the Fates bestowed the basin with properties of vitality. Any water that flows through it absorbs this blessing.”

I looked back at the mirror, a thought occurring to me. "This is the fountain? I thought it was a mirror."

“It does appear that way when the water is still.” Violet knelt down beside me and blew gently into the water, her breath sending a series of ripples across the surface. When she spoke again, the usual prickle of her voice had mellowed out of the velvety touch of lamb's ear. "Lady Hyacinth was a very clever woman. She wanted to protect the fountain so she constructed a system to absorb any vibrations in the room. It involves many layers of padding and works at nearly all angles.”

“Except above.”

“Yes, except above.”

“Why didn't she just lock it up? Or at the very least put a lid on it?”

“She was clever, but perhaps she was also too kind. She wanted the fountain to be hidden, but not kept a secret. It was her way of keeping it out of the wrong hands without preventing those in need from getting to it.”

Though her methods were confusing, I could understand Lady Hyacinth's intentions. She wanted to heal others and the Fates had given her something she could never have dreamed of. She couldn't decide how to use her gift without unleashing disaster.

I forced myself away from the fountain, finding myself staring too deeply into it. “You said this was a sacellum?” “The oldest in Iglanies.”

“It’s rather...grand, isn’t it?” The little shrines dedicated to the Fates back in Abricot were much smaller and lacked the intricacies of the one we sat in.

“Some claim Lady Hyacinth was...perhaps a tad bit...obsessive in her endeavors. She was dedicated to serving people, and as an extension, the Fates. She thought she should show her full efforts.”

“I see.” As I took note of all the details, I felt a pang of pity within me. The Fates didn't seem like the type to appreciate her efforts. At the very least, I could marvel at Lady Hyacinth's work in place of them.

I got on my knees and clasped my hands together just as Violet had before, bowing my head and conjuring the image of the Fates in my mind. Clearing my throat, I said loudly, “Fates above: that who spin us, that who tie us, that who cuts us, Lady Hyacinth put her whole heart into creating this place, so you better appreciate it.”

“Nox!” Violet exclaimed, “You pray with your mind, not your mouth.”

“Please and um, thank you,” I crossed my collarbone as I added in an attempt to quell Violet's annoyance.

“It seems prayer etiquette will need to be added to your studies.”

I laughed.

Violet didn't laugh back.

#comet writes #wip edith nox #oc edith nox #oc violet choi

[nightowlfandom]

Anime! Fictional! BTS x Real World! Reader- Welcome To My World~ Episode 1

HEY HEY! IM SO EXCITE! Btw who here plays BTS World? This is very loosely based off that.

I need to download it again tbh.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...

What does it mean to escape? To get away. If it means leaving behind all you know, all you’ve been raised to know, all you’ve been led to believe, with just yourself and the clothes on your back. Scary, but thrilling. Terrifying, but inviting. Unbelievable, but definitely possible....

...

On a early Tuesday morning where the sun was barely grazing the orange sky, you sat by your windowsill. You were dreamily staring out into the halo that was a mixture of red and orange. The halo of greyish clouds matched your mood to a complete tee. The aesthetic beauty of nature wasn’t enough to make you smile or even blink twice, however. It was always like this though. Yet something about this scene made you go sour.

Releasing a sigh, you stepped away from the window, shutting the curtains. Another day, the same thing. All you could do was attempt to power through.

As you lazily pulled your shirt over your head, you had managed to dodge that annoying dog. The little brat wasn’t even yours, but your oh-so loving step-sister’s. He always had a affinity for making your room a hot mess.  Only yours in particular. 

“Get out of here you little-.” you chased the dog out of your room, slamming your door as it scurried off. “What did you screw up this time?” you curiously scanned the room. Everytime that little fluffy beast rammed his little head into your personal space, something would end up broken, ripped, shattered, or completely destroyed beyond repair. 

You almost screamed when you saw a familiar book cover on the floor. You instantly dropped to your knees, praying to yourself that it wasn’t true. The cover had a pretty violent looking rip along with the first few pages. 

Your absolute reason for waking up in the morning was tarnished. A signed cover of BTS Universe Issue #1. Probably your one and only favorite series on planet Earth. You gingerly picked up the book, trying to inspect it with hopes that the damage was minimal. As little as this was, you almost felt like crying. However there was no time, you needed to tape up the pages and fast! Who cares if you missed breakfast.

...

“Morning Y/N!” Your step-dad greeted you in the kitchen. “You were upstairs an awful long time, I was about to send your mother to see if you were still up playing that game of yours!” he smiled warmly.

“Thanks Mr. Chai.” you replied politely. “I’m sorry I’m so late.”

“You know...Y/N...you could call me Dad.” he set a plate down on the table. “I know I’m not your father, but I want to be the best father-figure for you because I know...you haven’t really had that.”

You had to stop yourself from saying anything else. You haven’t had the best parental relationship, and your new step-dad really was trying. Maybe it was just his daughter that drove you nuts.

“Thank you.” you replied, smiling. “...Dad.” you winked, making finger guns. “Geez! You made a lot of food for just the four of us”

“ Well you ain’t see muffin, yet!” he winked. “You and Nari have a busy day today. She auditioning and you, my friend....well I don’t know exactly what you have planned for the day.”

“I’ll tell you if we can skip the food related puns.” you sat down at the table. It was a rule that everyone waited for everyone else. Even though you had taken the extra time to repair your copy of BTS Universe, you had seemed to be the first person down the stairs. In all honesty, you were just going to hang out at the comic store until Nari called to tell you she was done.

“Hey now, Donut kill my vibe!” he continued, laughing. “I have a million more of these, come on. Don’t go bacon my heart, Y/N.”

“Good job Y/N, you’ve gotten him started.” You mom came down the stairs in her little blazer and pencil skirt. “Whatever will we do now.”

“He did it himself, the guy’s an animal! You married a wild child, mom.” you joked. “He might just be a serial killer.”

“Don’t you mean...cereal killer?” he held up a box of Raisin Bran to make his point. You could only shake your head as your mother and step-father laughed together. Food related humor so early in the morning had to mean today wasn’t going to be a horrible as it started, at least for you.

“WHERE ARE MY THIGH HIGH BOOTS!” you heard a screech from upstairs. “THEY BETTER NOT BE IN YOUR ROOM, Y/N!”

“...WHY WOULD I WANT TO WEAR YOUR SHOES!” you yelled back after taking in a deep breath. “NARI, IF I WANTED TO BREAK MY ANKLES, I’D HAUL MYSELF DOWN THE STAIRS.”

“When will you two get along?” your mom shook her head. “It’s been three years.” 

“We don’t not get along.” You shook your head. “Not my fault she’s difficult.”

“I can think of a few times you’ve been difficult yourself, young lady.” you mother pointed a stern finger at you. “Like when you locked yourself in the room to read that silly cartoon of yours.”

“It’s not silly.” you defended yourself.

“Oh come on!” Nari’s voice voice could be heard alongside some loud footsteps. “I think it’s cute to be honest. Y/N here actually has a hobby besides stalking celebrities online.”

“Shut up, Nari.” you grumbled. “And keep your dog out of my room! He ruined my signed copy of BTS Universe!”

“Dorie got out again?” she seethed, looking annoyed. “I really have to put a bell on that dog.”

“Yeah.” you sighed, you bummed mood returning. Everyone knew just how much you loved that edition. You kept in in a super special display case, you cleaned the case every week, you kept your other issues on their own bookshelf along with your figurine and digital visual novel editions of the series. You were even on the buyer’s list for the special early anime release. You LOVED this series. Not even Nari dared to disrespect something as important as that, and she loved getting under your skin.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find another one.” your mother set down a bowl of cereal in front of you along with a muffin. “Now eat, you have a big day today.”

“Yes mam.” you replied, helping yourself to some cereal.

“If you want, you can take a muffin or bagel with you.” your step dad said. 

“Dad! I can’t, I have to be super focused remember? Breakfast will just slow me down!” Nari scoffed.

“Not having breakfast will make it even worse, dummy. Dude, you’re gonna pass out on stage.” you threw a tiny cereal piece at her. “Eat something.”

“I’ll eat later, I just have my eye on the prize and nothing is going to stop me.” Nari stood up determined. 

“Will you at least eat some toast, crazy girl.” your mother said. “Y/N’s right, you need to at least have eaten something to calm your nerves. Y/N make sure Nari eats something before you two go your separate ways.”

“I’ll try, no promise.” you shrugged. “Nari, if you’re done, then get your stuff and let’s go.” You promptly finished your cereal and went to go back upstairs. “You got ten minutes.” 

“What’s her deal?” you could hear Nari ask, followed by an sudden whispering of your mom stating exactly what she thought was wrong with you. Your bet was on ‘everything’.

You walked back into your room, grabbing your purse from your desk. You eyed your taped up issue of BTS Universe #1. There was no way you were going to find another issue like that, and that damned dog just treated it like a loved toy. You grabbed your phone and shoved it into your purse. You went over to where the issue was and placed it on your desk. 

“NARI LET’S GO!” you shut the bedroom door behind you as you walked out the room. 

...

You sped to a stop outside the building. Nari was shaking in her shoes. She seemed hesitant to even open the door. 

“Call me when you’re finished so I can pick you up.” you said, getting ready to unlock the doors.

“You’re leaving me!?” Nari looked like she was about to explode.

“Hello?! It’s idol trainees only?” you raised an eyebrow. “I can’t go in there with you. Nari what’s the problem?”

“...Um...I’m nervous alright! I’m giving up almost everything and if I don’t get chosen...I’ll just prove my dad right. I need this.” she stared down at her hands. “I’m not used to being a reject. I don’t know how you-”

“You wanna leave here with two working legs, I suggest you don’t finished that sentence.” you cut her off. “I’m not a reject.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say. I’m saying I don’t know how you deal with nerves like this.” she looked like she was gonna pass out. 

“...You just do.” you nudged her shoulder. “You just go for it and hope. Go for it.”

“...Okay, I’ll try.” she opened the door. “...Thank you.” she stood up. “I’ll call you when I’m all set.” she shut the door. 

“I’ll literally be at the store around the corner.” you replied before driving off. You watched in the rear view as she took her sweet time going into the building. 

...(Later on)

You trudged behind Nari as she ran through the door. She seemed happy, so that must have meant the audition went well.

“I’m gonna take a nap.” you called to your mom and step-dad. “See you guys at dinner!”

You didn’t wait for them to reply before you closed the door. As you walked over to your bed, you noticed a disc laying on your bed. Just a random DVD. The closer you got, the font on the front got clearer.

“BTS World?” It didn’t look familiar in the slightest. “It’s called BTS Universe, Nice try Nari.” you wrote it off as a stupid prank by your oh-so-loving Step-Sister. It was only then you realized Nari was with you all day. 

You took another look at it, gently taking it in your hands. It looked like it was glowing. 

Call it curiosity, but you needed to know.

Your laptop was sitting at the edge of the bed, so you put the disc in. 

“State your name.” a voice came out of nowhere. 

“What?” you looked around in shock. The voice sounded like it came from right behind you.

“Please state your name.” the female robotic voice repeated. 

“Y/N.” 

“Are you sure that you want Y/N as your name?”

“Um Yes?” you raised an eyebrow. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

“Would you like to start a new game? You don’t appear to have any saved filed under the name Y/N.”

Maybe you were sleepier than you thought, but you ran with it. “Yes.”

“Starting new game....now”

Your screen began glowing a bright blue, a vivid, saturated blue. It was like your screen had turned into a flashlight. 

“What the fu-” you suddenly stared at your hands, the very tips of your fingers turned pixelated. “MOM!!!” You tried to scream, only to have it come out in the form on an echo. You felt your feet leave the ground as tiny little pixels moved towards your computer. You could see the color draining from your walls, leaving everything white. It was like an earthquake ran through your room...only through your room.

Then...everything went dark.

...

(Why hello there...LET US PREPARE. I’m gonna go through with it this time, I swear on my bacon! The guys are coming next chappie!)

#hoseok smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop x reader #hoseok imagines #jimin imagines #jungkook imagines #yoongi imagines #namjoon imagines #taehyung imagines #seokjin imagines #imagines #bts au #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts smut #kpop au #au imagines

[krabmeat]

𝚓𝚞𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Wilbur Soot

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: he/him

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: mentions of death, implied s_!c!de, aggressive and angered yelling, glass shattering

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: this is gonna be a 7 part series im doing where I write all of the songs from the album "Your City Gave Me Asthma" by Wilbur Soot as short stories! this is the first one of the 7, jubilee line- hope you enjoy!! this short story does deal with extremely heavy topics, so please reach out to a professional or a trusted person in your life if you deal with similar emotions or similar situations. your emotions are valid and deserve to be dealt with, no one expects you to handle your sh-t alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wasting your time.

“Wilbur, what are you talking about?” She’s trying to help again. It’s tiring. She’s my therapist, but also my friend and roommate so I see her often. She can see how much I’ve been struggling with my job, and she’s been trying to help. I don’t think I want it. My eye bags are more defined since I’ve tilted my head down to lace my fingers through my slightly greasy hair. I’m thinking. My eyes are closed when she speaks up again. “Wil!” I snap my eyes open and look up at her.

You're wasting mine.

I don’t know where my body is taking me. Pent up impulse has taken control of my body, and I stomp my way over to the door while briskly grabbing my beanie and trench coat from the coat rack.  “Wil, where are you going?” “Away.” She desperately grabs onto my upper arm. She’s concerned, but am I? In any other situation, I would be. But it doesn’t feel like me talking. 

I hate to see you leaving,

Her voice was shaky when she spoke. There are tears in her eyes. It’s strange, really. She always managed to let her tears roam as they pleased, it’s always been something I’ve found fascinating about her. But my curiosity doesn’t seem to be where it usually is on my mental shelf. I think I may have misplaced it.  I take one last glance around the place before calmly removing her hand from my arm.

Fate worse than dying.

I don’t know how late it is until I hear 11 distinct chimes roll out across the city like a blanket. Even then, I don’t know how long I’ve been walking but I think I’m getting close to my destination. But why am I feeling dizzy? Oh right, 

Your city gave me asthma

Probably one of the only things I brung with me, I found an inhaler in my coat pocket. It’s got enough to last me to where I’m going. With the last puff in it, I chuck the empty inhaler into a nearby alley. Climate change hits hard everywhere, but it gets bipolar in London. It doesn’t matter to me right now. I’d turn it all to ash from the fleeting joy I get from adding more smoke to the sky.

So that’s why I’m f*cking leaving.

The inhaler helped me breathe, but the dizziness is still there. The inhaler doesn’t even matter, the air is still dense and damp from the drenched night before. The world around me is melting, but when I blink it’s like everything was inflated back to normal with an air pump. Before I know it though, my lack of eyesight sends me tumbling to the ground. My arms and legs are damp, I tripped on a puddle. 

And your water gave me cancer.

I’m never usually this mad. Bottling up comes easy to me, yet I find myself angrily stomping on the puddle, causing me to fall again, leaving more scrapes scattered across my pale, cold skin. The concrete meets my knuckles, aggressively landing blows to its invisible face.

And the pavement hurt my feelings.

I get up from the ground. The blood from my knuckles is unrecognizable, washed away by the sudden downpour. The buildings have become a haze. Familiar, but I don’t know what it is. Not the familiarness associated with a home, or a warm and comforting hug. As if I’ve seen it before, constantly looming over me, watching me like a renewed episode of their favorite show. They already know what’s happening, they know what’s coming. I can’t take it. There’s a rasp in my voice and I’m surrounded by re renovated apartments and business buildings, factories puffing their black cigarette smoke out for the ignorant tourists to see. 

Shout at the walls,

My tears are confused with the rain, but both are dripping viciously from my face as gravely shouts and yells stream out of my mouth. Nearby bottles and littered beer cans are pleading for mercy, crushed and shattered by my aggressive hands thrown against the walls.

Cause the walls don’t f*cking love you.

My senses are getting overwhelmed, my arms and legs shaking from either the cold or the jolt of sensation I get when the glass shatters into a million pieces before I could stop it. 

Shout at the walls, 

“SHUT THE F*CK UP, WILL YA!?” My head tilts upwards to see a man at his windowsill with a dirty glare coming my way. A few seconds later, a little girl appears behind the man, seeming to have just woken up. A soft and whispery “Dad…?” Can be heard from the little girl. The softness I feel from the small wholesome moment soon turns into mind-numbing guilt. I run away, the numbness going to my legs as they once again travel on their own.

Cause the walls don’t f*cking love you.

My legs burn and sting with every stride and step they take along the path. I’m almost there. The strange looks and stares I’m getting are blocked out by the splashing and slapping of my damp shoes against the thin puddles on the ground.

Clap, clap

It’s almost as if this place is a second home for me. It’s my home, crowded with chatter and people making their ways through the Jubilee line. I’m so familiar with this place, you’d think I actually live here. I make my way to the glass barriers that block me from reaching the train, my damp feet still slapping against the ground.

Clap, clap

The barrier frustrates me. The visitors see it as a safety precaution, London’s trying to keep us safe! But we know, I know.  It represents ignorance, laziness, failure. London’s desperacy to please those foreign to this place while ostracizing those who have been fed to the brim with government immaturity. I’ve broken barriers like these, it was easy for me to shatter the flimsy glass. The crowds and crowds of people stop, scream, panic, run and express their disgust all at once. I stood on top of the railing, the only other thing in my way. The tracks are calling to me, but so does a voice.

There’s a reason that London puts barriers on the tube line!

This voice isn’t familiar to me, which is why it bothers me so much.  Foreigner. They don’t know. They COULD know, it’s not as if our hierarchy here has made a completely opaque wall between their intentions and actions. I’m still on top of the rail, but my back is faced towards the tracks. My eyes land on a short, blond white woman. Her voice sounded like she was talking with sticks in her mouth, nothing like the smoothness of a British accent. I fail to turn around in time before another voice is heard from another part of the station.

There’s a reason London puts barriers on the rails!

A tall man with ginger hair and lanky arms speaks up. He’s just like the woman, uneducated. Poor foreigners. The brotures and online ads and magazine cut-outs only give webs of lies and deceit when advertising to come to London. It speaks of the grand sights but not the horrid trauma that children here have to bear their sight to because of our crippling economy. The photos show places with warm rays and never the vicious rain and storms or scolding heat. The videos show clear, blue skies and never the gray turning grayer from the remains of society's mass-production. I’m done listening to these people. But one in particular stops me.

There’s a reason that London puts barriers on the tube line,

A tone I recognize, but a face that’s a haze. The man is from here, his voice says it all. His gray outfit and security guard patch on his vest. He knows what I’m thinking. He understands. Understanding would have been useful about an hour ago, yet I still find a soft smile slowly etching on my lips. I spread my arms out, like a bird with its wings spread out from its body. I wish I had wings, I would fly out of this wretched town. Fly out to freedom like Icarus. He flew too high, however. Where I’m going, the only upwards I’ll be is 6 feet under. But I’m ready for that. My face expresses a feeling of relief, tranquility, satisfaction. I haven’t smiled like this in years, it’s nice to close things off with a smile. The buzz of a train can be distantly heard, and I look out to the crowd. With the breeze of the air pushing against my falling back, I manage to breathe out a final arrangement for the crowd to hear.

There’s a reason they fail.

#wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfic #ycgma #mcyt #mcyt fic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #dsmp fic #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #song fic #song fanfic #song fanfiction

[clintbartonswife]

i’d trade my life for yours

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier Summary: Jaskier will be loyal to Geralt until his last breath, this he swears. Notes: im sorry. descriptions of torture. mentions rape (not graphic in the slightest, more like an allusion, but tagged it just to be safe), major character death. This is the bad ending, for a nicer ending read the series below :) masterlist  || nicer ending (p2)

Jaskier had always felt too much, falling a little bit in love with almost everyone he meets. The seamstress from Beauclair with the deepest green eyes he had ever seen, the knight from Kerack who had muscles the size of Jaskier’s head, the innkeeper and his wife from Rinde who had the warmest smiles he had ever seen.

All loves that he treasured, yet let go after a night or two, the heartache keeping him company until he found another gorgeous person to fall for.

When he finds Geralt at the ripe age of 18 it’s different, for once the bard doesn’t want to leave, a nagging feeling pulling him along the path by the Witcher’s side.

His love grows easily, from that of shallow appreciation of his honey golden eyes to a fierce want to protect his love from those that scorn him in every village they visit, a need to nurture the fragile relationship they were building.

It’s only Jaskier’s luck that the only person to ever intrigue him enough to stay seems to want him to leave, impenetrable walls built around his heart.

So, Jaskier writes songs of their travels, being respectful of Geralt’s boundaries whilst still trying to provide as much tender love and care as he could without scaring the Witcher, all the while falling deeper and deeper in love.

Everything starts to go wrong after the djiin.

He watches through the window as his heart breaks with every thrust of Geralt’s hips, the Witchers disinterest (which he had assumed was general Witchery distance) suddenly making more sense - he just didn’t like Jaskier.

Still the bard stayed, sewing his heart back together with every step he took beside the Witcher. His affectionate touches didn’t falter, not allowing his own personal hurt to affect his Geralt negatively. He still deserved as much softness as he could bring himself to provide - Melitele knows Yennefer wasn’t providing that.

Jaskier funnelled all of his creative energy in to his songs, more and more of them staying in his private notebook, too personal to be sung in front of Geralt, let alone the general public.

After each time they met with Yennefer, Jaskier was there to pick up the broken pieces the Witch left behind, baring the brunt of Geralt’s bad mood for a week after she had gone, heart chipping a little more each time as his hatred for the woman grows.

The last straw was the dragon hunt. The whistling winds whipping Jaskier’s hair in his eyes as Geralt’s words lashed out at him, vicious and hateful.

In the following two weeks, Jaskier drank to forget, falling back into old habits and into strangers beds with a new desperation.

The young farmer with hazel eyes - not as beautiful as Geralt’s. The miller’s daughter with blonde hair - not light enough.

The people begin to blend together, yet it doesn’t work. The heartbreak still radiates through his body, numbing him from any other emotion.

He’s too drunk to register that Cintra has fallen.

Too drunk to hear the rumours of the bounty on his head.

Too drunk to notice the Nilfgaardian soldiers entering the tavern.

Too drunk to defend himself against their arms that steal him away that night.

When he awakens the next morning, head throbbing with the familiar pain of a hangover, Jaskier is hit with a wave of nausea.

Turning his head to the side, he reaches for the bed-side table, blanching when he finds his arms restrained. It takes a few seconds to register that he’s in unfamiliar surroundings: the distinctly tavern smell (of weak ale and piss) gone, the slightly scratchy linens of the bed replaced with a hard wood surface.

Unrestrained panic swelled up in the bard’s chest, his instincts kicking in as he tried to mimic sleep.

‘Just breathe slowly, keep your eyes closed and stay calm’ repeated through his brain, sounding suspiciously like Geralt’s voice.

“-the bastard up yet?”

“He wasn’t the last time I checked, no sir”

“And no sign from the Witcher?”

“None sir”

Jaskier heard a scoff as the door opened, two sets of feet stopping at the side of the chair. Unnerving silence fell for a few seconds, before a heavy kick was given to his ribs, punching the air from his lungs in a loud exhale.

“Now listen here, bard” the bigger of the two men all-but-growled, looming over Jaskier as the singer blinked heavily to clear the daze that had settled over him, “We’re going to make this real simple. You tell us what we need to know, and maybe we wont kill you”

Scrunching his nose in disgust, Jaskier considered his options, “What is it that you want to know?”

Another scoff.

“Maybe he’s not so useless after all” the tall man sneered, exchanging an amused glance with the man stood in the corner, “Tell us where the Butcher of Blaviken is”

Self preservation was forgotten as the nickname stirred up anger deep inside Jaskier, the unfairness choking him, “I’m afraid I don’t know any butchers, not the biggest fan of hanging around long enough in towns long enough to befriend anyone in that profession I’m afraid”

That earnt him a sharp slap, the sting helping to ground him.

“Don’t try to be smart. Where is the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia?”

“Oh, I do know him” Jaskier answered, tone kept light and conversational, “Of course I haven’t seen him in months so I’m afraid I’m really of no use to you gentlemen”

Another slap.

“Now that must be a lie. Why would the Witcher leave his little whore behind?”

Now that one stung, the frown forming on Jaskier’s face before he could stop it.

“Aw, struck a chord with that, did I? He found someone else I assume - though Melitele knows how anyone can lay with a monster like -”

Rage finally overflowing, Jaskier spat in the man’s face, “How dare you call him a monster. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be”

A bitter chuckle, followed by a punch that left the bard tasting copper.

“I think you might actually be in love with that thing” he said, amused, “That just makes this all the more fun”

Jaskier held eye contact with the man, glowering as he slowly spat out the pooled blood onto the floor.

“Tell me where he is”

“No”

Two punches to his stomach, and a hard kick to his shin.

“My sister hurt me worse than that for stealing her brush when we were seven” Jaskier sneered.

“Where is he”

A backhand across the face, followed by three hard kicks to his ribs.

“Toss a coin to your-”

Another heavy kick to his stomach, winding him slightly as he keeled forward, a burning pain spreading over his chest.

“Oh valley of plenty” he wheezed, forcing his head back up to stare at his captor’s face.

The day carried on very much the same, Jaskier working through his repertoire of songs as he was beaten black and blue, the lyrics keeping him focused and alert.

The man in the corner just stood and watched, his silent presence looming over the beating.

“I must say” Jaskier eventually huffed, directing his words at the man in the corner, “Your indifference to this situation is highly annoying. Are you not enjoying the performance?”

His question was met with another heavy hit to his stomach, the skin there surely covered in a patchwork quilt of forming bruises.

“You bore me”

The voice was cold, cutting through the pain like a knife and replacing all feeling in his body with the need to flee, an innate wrongness surrounding the man.

He stepped forward into the light, pink eyes flashing at him, “I think it’s high time we shut you up”

The taller man grinned, a shark-like expression that just added to the bard’s discomfort, moving behind him to grab him by the sides of the head, tilting him so that his neck was bared to the room.

They’re going to slit my throat, Jaskier thought absently, half delirious with pain, this is it.

The slimy tendrils of magic prodding at his mind made Jaskier’s eyes widen in panic, struggling against the bonds in a fruitless effort to get away from the unsettling sensation.

No. No this was so much worse.

He could handle pain. He could handle taunting words and harsh treatment. The one thing Jaskier couldn’t handle was fucking mages.

“No - “ he gasped, voice distorted by the angle of his head, “please-”

Yellow eyes. Lips curled in to a snarl.

The mountain.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

No. No no no no no no no. Not this. Anything but this.

“Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, its you, shoveling it?”

White hair. Curled fists.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands”

Wet eyes. Shattered heart. A wasted life.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

And it looped. Again, and again, and again,

“Ready to talk, bard?”

His eyes fluttered open, eyelids heavy, fighting to remain closed.

“Fuck. You” he hissed, words mangled through gritted teeth.

The mage smirked, fingers reaching for his temple again, “Very well. It seems like one hour wasn’t enough”

The last thought Jaskier had before being pulled back to the mountain was one of horror, that one hour had felt like an entire day.

When he came to once more, Geralt’s voice still ringing in his ears, Jaskier realised there was a new man in the otherwise empty room.

“Going to talk yet little birdy?” the man asked, voice far too light for the circumstances, his posture reminiscent of those that approached him in taverns with hopes of charming him into bed that night.

The realisation occurred to him as he noticed his hands were free, a rusty cot added to the corner of the room.

“No” he whispered, the horror palpable in his tone.

“Well that’s too bad” the man sneered, his too-rough hands dragging him out of the chair and towards the cot.

The irony was that in that moment Jaskier would’ve given anything to have been back on that mountain, Geralt blaming him for everything, rather than be faced with his current reality.

Of course, the mage wasn’t kind enough for that.

Jaskier wasn’t sure how many days had passed since his capture.

What he did know was this: his throat was too sore to speak, ruined from both abuse and lack of water; his body was so mottled that it looked like he had begun rotting, greenish-yellow marks covering almost every inch of his skin; his back shredded by the impromptu whipping session earlier that morning; and he wasn’t sure he could muster a smile, even if informed of the untimely and gruesome death of Valdo Marx.

But, no matter what they threw at him, he would not betray Geralt.

He had made this vow to himself during a quiet moment on (what he guessed was) the second day, that no matter what faced him - be it further torture, mutilation and eventually death - he would not speak a word of the little information he knew.

He may have ruined Geralt’s life, may have annoyed him with his incessant and unwelcome company, but one thing Jaskier could give him now was his undying loyalty, the one thing that no one could take away from him.

They wouldn’t take away his love.

So he breathed steadily as he looked as his hands, tied down firmly to the arms of the chair, taking in every detail of the calloused fingers that made him the famous bard that he was today.

“Last chance. Where is the Witcher”

Jaskier just grinned, the smile bloody and insincere.

“Fucking your mother I would imagine” he croaked, withholding the wince of pain from the strain on his throat, instead widening his grin at the look of anger on the man’s face.

With a growl, the man brought the hammer down heavily on Jaskier’s left ring finger, smiling sickeningly at the bard’s agonised scream.

“Where is he?”

Head fuzzy with pain, Jaskier scowled and spat his blood in the man’s eyes.

The sickening crunch of bone echoed around the small room, Jaskier’s scream ringing out as another two fingers were smashed.

The line of questioning continued until all of his fingers were unrecognisable, the bard humming ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ through tears as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“What a shame” the captor said, fake sympathy swimming in his cold eyes, “Looks like you’re worth even less than you were when we found you. What worth is a bard if he cant play anymore?”

The man pretended to think, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Of course! A brothel worker!” He paused, tutting again and shaking his head, “No you cant even be that, we’ve made you far too ugly”

Jaskier tried to ignore his words, focusing on his rattling lungs instead, forcing them to inhale and exhale.

Unconsciousness crept forward, the pain finally overwhelming him, Jaskier falling into it’s open arms gladly.

“-cher isn’t coming for him. We’ve had the word out for two weeks and got nothing”

The words drifted in to Jaskier’s cell, the conversation prying him from sleep.

“So what do we do? The bard’s not talking”

“We were meant to give a destination by yesterday”

“So we make one up, blame the bard when it comes back empty”

“… That could work”

“Then I’m guessing we kill him afterwards?”

“Theres no reason to keep him”

“Well-”

“You’re not using army funds to feed just so he can be your personal whore, Cahir would skin you alive if he found out”

Jaskier huffed a laugh at that - the realisation that his worth had finally been reduced to what his father had called him all those decades ago, ‘a worthless whore’, ‘useless to polite society’.

The conversation carried on, though Jaskier’s mind drifted, thoughts racing yet head surprisingly clear. He shifted in his seat, only slightly to the left, wincing as the healing whip wounds on his back pulled open again, the stinging pain keeping him tethered to consciousness.

Not for the first time, he wondered where Geralt was. Safe, that he was sure of, hidden from the greedy eyes of the Nilfgaardian army if their unhappiness was anything to go off of.

Had he found Cirilla yet?

Was Roach okay?

Was he taking proper care of himself?

And - in even his lowest moments - he found himself wondering how Yennefer was.

If she was handling the break-up better than he did.

If she was safe, happy, looked after.

Or maybe, perhaps even back with Geralt. The three of them playing happy families while Jaskier rotted in a cell and waited for a hapless death.

Being on your deathbed gave you a lot of perspective, Jaskier had realised, and he found it hard to even hate Valdo on occasion (until he regained some energy from a piece of stale bread thrown at him and immediately felt disgusted that the thought had even crossed his mind).

As the fog in his brain seemed to seep into his dimming vision, his thoughts returned to Geralt’s eyes.

“Goodnight my love”

The news reached Geralt as they were passing a backwater town. 

“The bard Jaskier - I swear it was! They dragged him out t’wards the Nilfgaard base”

“Tom stop jabbering, they would’a been shouting that from the rooftops if they got ‘im”

Coldness seeped into the Witcher’s bones as the words registered in his brain, his eyes flying to Yennefer. The sorceress was looking at him with pity in her eyes.

“I can try scrying-”

“Please”

Ciri watched in awe as Yennefer set up her equipment that night in their camp, bouncing with barely restrained curiosity at all the new instruments that the mage seemed to summon from nowhere.

The young princess’ enthusiasm calmed Geralt slightly, focusing on her youthful movements instead of the dread that settled over him at the thought of Jaskier’s current situation, guilt hitting him every few minutes as he replayed their last conversation.

‘If life could give me one blessing-’

“He’s in Neunreuth” Yennefer said, looking up with a solemn expression, “in a Nilfgaardian fortress”

“They were right” the Witcher breathed, utterly defeated.

“So we’re going to get him right?” Ciri asked, enthusiasm now dampened by the morose mood emanating from the two adults.

“Of course” 

Yennefer quirked her eyebrow at his firm reply, before nodding in agreement, “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow”

Geralt knew the second he stepped out of the portal that something was wrong.

“He cant be here” he thought aloud, “It’s been abandoned”

Yennefer frowned, her expression telling him everything she refused to say out loud, “He’s here”

“No”

Striding forwards, the Witcher advanced on the old manor house, nose picking up on the scent of Jaskier’s blood the second he reached the front door.

“No!”

Strides turned in to a sprint as he chased the scent, denial still swirling through his brain as he got closer and closer to the muted wildflower scent. 

“Jaskier”

The name fell from his lips as his knees gave out from under him, the sight of his bard’s limp body hanging from the chair punching all the breath from him. The smell of rusted blood was overwhelming, a pool in the corner dating back months.

Geralt sat there, disgusted by himself as he imagined how long Jaskier had waited for him to come and rescue him, how long he had stayed faithful to a monster.

He wasn't worth Jaskier’s life.

He wasn't aware he was crying until Yennefer laid a hand on his shoulder, “Geralt-”

“No” he hissed, struggling to his feet and moving over to the bard, “he cant be dead - he -”

Eyes wild, he turned around to face the sorceress, rising to his full height, “Fix him. I know you can - you did it last time”

“Geralt-”

Anger overtaking him, he pulled Jaskier’s limp body into his arms, unaware of how much his own hands were shaking.

“FIX HIM. YOU NEED TO FIX HIM NOW”

“Geralt stop”

“YOU NEED TO FIX HIM” he shouted, falling to his knees again, cradling the cold body in his arms as he sobbed, “Please fix him, Yen I need - I need you to fix him please”

The woman sighed, brushing a hand over Jaskier’s temple, looking for any sign of life.

“He’s gone"

Geralt’s cries could be heard in the next village over, lasting well into the night.

Not long after, tales of the White Wolf, Princess of Cintra and the Raven Sorceress were spread far and wide, the image of Cahir’s head on a stick engraved in the public’s minds.

#jaskier whump #geralt whump #geraskier #geraskier whump #Geralt de Riv #geralt of rivia #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier #torture fic #geraskier angst #geralt angst #jaskier angst #not a happy ending #im sorry #fanfiction #witcher #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fic #jaskier fic #jaskier fanfic #geraksier fanfiction #Yennefer of Vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #major character death #major character injury

[ad1thi]

@starklysteve me?? spamming you w recs because i love talking about my ships?? more likely than you think :)) (here’s some rhodeytony to get you started on what is objectively the best tony ship)

i place your hands around my neck:  @fanfictiongreenirises

"Rhodey could practically feel his lungs getting heavier again, weighed down by roots of plants that he’d thought would never take hold in him again."

Or: the one where Rhodey's been pining over Tony for much longer than either of them realised and develops the Hanahaki disease

Pretend We’re In Love (The Heartache Still Hurts): @marvelingjules

Rhodey's dad is dying, and what he's always wanted is for Rhodey to be happily married. Tony and Rhodey were best friends, and haven't spoken in years. But after a chance meeting at the airport, and a desperate, insane idea on Rhodey's part, they end up pretending to be engaged.

But how much of it is really pretend?

i can’t seem to get a grip, no matter how i live with it:  @psikeval

Tony knows he's got no business being a father.

A Million Shades of Blue: @notfknapplicable

“I just know that if I could get to wherever he is, I could find him. Dead or alive, I'd bring him back to us.”

James Rhodes will never stop searching for Tony Stark.

Twenty Five Years: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on. (Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

Leave The Light On: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

He was never doing this for fun. He'd just wanted to stay awake. And whatever you do, please don't tell that guy he's been fucking. He kinda likes him.

coloured in sun: @heleus

The one in which Anthony Edward Stark, having just reached the warm age of seventeen, realizes that he's in love with his best friend.

(The idea is terrifying.)

the planets that bend us: @deathsweetqueen

When Antonia Margaret Stark wakes up on her sixth birthday, it’s to the words: I didn’t get any sleep last night after that fucking lawn mower decided that 7 in the morning would be a perfect time for him to start his day, right outside my room.

She runs a thumb over the long string of words, wrapping around her wrist like a thick leather band.

She smiles.

She’s fourteen when she meets James Rupert Rhodes for the first time.

Written for the "more than a partner" square (S3) for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the "soulmate" square for the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019

we rattle together in a bed of honey: @deathsweetqueen

Toni first met James Rhodes in Cellular Neurophysiology and Computing, when she was fourteen and trying very hard to stay in the shadows. She stumbles into the classroom, clutching her books and binders and pencil case close to her chest, as she stares at everything, wide-eyed and hungry and terrified. She seizes on the contempt, the confusion, the incredulity of the other freshman who look at her like she’s an incongruity – she’s used to that look, all that hate and derision.

She eats it up like chocolate cake.

Much to her luck, all the seats are filled, all except for one towards the middle of the row, a table shared only by a tall, handsome black boy, sleeping on top of the counter.

a winding road that stretches to the truth: @/coulddaughter (this author ostensibly has a tumblr but im unable to locate it -- so if anyone knows what their tumblr is please let me know so i can tag them!)

“Why do you need a date? Also, no offence, but why did you come to me? I stole, like, four of your girlfriends and at least two boyfriends, remember.”

“I do remember that, Tony,” said Jim, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I need you to come on a date with me.”

Love in the Eyes:  @child-of-sunshine

The moment each of the Avengers realized Tony and Rhodey were in love.

The Curious Case Of The Discarded Condom:  @/AssvengersArsemble

Natasha, Clint and Steve get just a little nosy about Tony's love life. Tony finds it extremely amusing they can't see what's right under their noses.

takes a lot of love and compliance: @gyzym

She's born breech, feet kicking out before the rest of her screams free; she's born breech, and never stops running. (Rule 63!Tony)

Targeted Persuasion: @galwednesday

Jim opened Tony's most formal closet and started pulling out tuxedos. "Put one of these on.”

"Why?"

"We're getting married."

Tony froze. "No, we're not."

"Oh yes we are." Jim tossed three tuxedos onto the bed. Three was a good number of options, enough for Tony to make a choice, but not so many that he'd get lost analyzing the ramifications of navy pinstripes vs. charcoal paisley. Tony did best with clear, specific expectations rather than an unlimited universe of possibilities that he would inevitably filter through his neuroses and obsess over, and Jim was really kicking himself for not considering that, oh, ten years ago when they’d first started this, but there was no point in beating himself up about it now when he could put that energy towards solving the problem instead. "You brought this on yourself, Tones. Pick a damn tux."

Five thousand roses: @/forestgreen

She is broken and all the more dangerous for it. The world should tread carefully around the shards of her former self lest they cut themselves on Antonia Stark's sharp edges.

A Guide to Handling the Unhandleable Tony Stark:  @/nightrider101 (this is ab a/b/o verse)

Written for the following prompt on the Avengers Kink meme: The rest of the Avengers assume Tony is an unbound Omega by the way he acts. He's reckless and carefree and does what he wants. Imagine their surprise when they find out that Rhodey is Tony's Alpha. They're all confused at the way Rhodey lets Tony act and how they can be away from each other for long periods of time and Rhodey's just like 'He didn't want to give up his career and I didn't want to give up mine. And I gave up trying to tell Tony what to do years ago.'

It’s Not Bacon Until It Ceases To Be Bacon: @sobebold

Tony has lived with his best friend Rhodey for fifteen years, and everything is perfect.

Until Rhodey finally gets a boyfriend, and Tony's world gets turned upside down.

by any name: @machi-kun

Tony calls him ‘mine’, sometimes.

And he also calls him platypus, honeybear, sugarplum, all those stupid nicknames; but James’ favorite will always be ‘mine’.

Tutor Me: @wisiaden

Tony really wants James Rhodes to be his math tutor. The guy was hot, and if he had to play dumb, well, he can say he hates math.

run and hide: @/starksrhodey

Tony may or may not have a crush on football captain James Rhodes.

Or, Tony is extremely insecure, Pepper knows best, Steve likes to bake, Bucky loves red heads, and Rhodey keeps trying to talk to Tony.

This Is The Real Life: @blancheludis

It takes doing the laundry for Tony to realize he is completely, irrevocably in love with Rhodey. Who knew that the way to Tony Stark's heart is to teach him how to wash his clothes.

Anything For You Darling: @areiton

Tony is sitting on the balcony of his palace in Malibu, and Rhodey hates it, more than he's ever hated anything, watching his best friend stare at the water, limmed by the sun and utterly alone.

"She's dead," Tony says, before Rhodey can ask and he feels his breath catch, his heart stumble.

There's--

Grief. For pretty, troubled Maya with her big eyes.

Heartbreak. For a sweet infant who will never know the mother who gave him up, whose life will never be exposed, now.

Relief. Because Harley is safe. Safe. Gods, he's safe.

or

Rhodey helps Tony raise his son.

it goes like this (just like heroin): @quandongcrumble

He’s twenty-six and you’re twenty-eight and you get a midnight phone call from Obadiah and between the two of you, you manage to beg and bully until you can fly back to the States and sit beside the white hospital bed while they say words like heroin and accidental overdose and that Tony should pull through but Tiberius might not wake up.

It goes like this—for almost sixteen years Tony’s addiction problems are a blight on Rhodey’s relationship with him. Friendships crack and trust is shattered, over and over again.

motor oil and coconut oil: @/halfasgoodasanything

James loves his best friend. He's entirely supportive of his friendship and his almost relationship with Steve Rogers. He is! He is. Carol and Pepper seem to think otherwise, but he's cool. Loving Tony doesn't mean no one else can. Even if he wanted to.

lost and found: @starkslovemail 

“Are you lost?”

Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”

“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”

The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”

--

Written for the RhodeyTony Mini-Bang! Art can be seen on twitter here!

two boy geniuses walk into one frat house: @starkslovemail (part of a series)

There were too many white people at this damn party.

The Other 'Mr Stark': Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour:  @presidentrhodes 

Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“(Based on this prompt: Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home.)

#adi's rec list #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #james rhodes/tony stark #james rhodes x tony stark #this got long 😳 #but all of these fics are so worth it #twenty seven recs #I HOPE YOU ENJOY THEM RHAE