#there was supposed to be more and a loop but I had to finish early for my sanity

[64-jungle-planks]

Happy New Years guys!

I hope you guys have an excellent end of a year and a start of one! I’m at my friend’s, Kasper, house playing Pictionary. I’m taking a break to look up movies to watch. I’m going to try to get them to watch either the Graduate or Chinatown, I love both!

This was super fun to animate, I tried to include everyone that was mentioned to me! I want to draw something similar to what I did during Halloween this year! If it’s hard to understand, Frosty (my character) throws a snowball at Jim (@all-yn-oween’s OC) and Passerine (another one of my OCs) who are building a snowman. The snowman is based off of the Minecraft ones, that’s why there’s a pumpkin. Passerine gets hit, which makes her mad and she storms off after Frosty. The film cuts to Jimmy(The Capone one) and Ralph chatting while Pass runs after Frost behind them. The film then moves over Al and Napoleon who are chatting to Ivan and @lidensword who are reading Warriors books. Jim comes in from the snow and pops up to flirt with Ivan who looks annoyed.

I’ll see you folks next year! I hope you guys have a good rest of your year if your like me and it’s 2022 in your time zone.

#frosty’s art #Frosty’s animations #last post of 2022 #there was supposed to be more and a loop but I had to finish early for my sanity #Animation? in this economy? whatttt? #I also have two secret Santa’s I have to do #not hermitcraft #natmau #NATM2 #NATM OCs #night at the museum #night at the museum 2 #night at the museum OCs #napoleon bonaparte night at the museum #ivan the terrible night at the museum #al capone night at the museum #kahmunrah #night at the museum kahmunrah #Ralph Capone #Jimmy Capone #Passerine (Oc) #Jimmy consetini (OC) #allyn/owen’s OCs #Lidensword

[7ndipity]

Better For You

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When Yoongi admits to feeling jealous about you spending so much time with Hobi, you end up making a slightly accidental confession.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: +18 Mdni, smut, oral(m. rec), marking, unprotected sex(don’t that pls), Yoongi being a big ol softie

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! As I mentioned yesterday, this was supposed to go up last night, but I got distracted with the ship game and didn’t get to finish editing it. Also, this ended up being waay longer than I intended cause I got carried away again(sorry not sorry?) Idk, they’re in love, your honor

Masterlist

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As you let yourself into your apartment, you stopped short at the sight of an extra, much larger pair of shoes by the door, confusion flickering through your mind for a second before relaxing, a smile creeping across your face as you set your things down, recognizing the shoes as belonging to your boyfriend.

You had given Yoongi a key to your place a few weeks back, deciding it was the easiest solution to his chronically late hours at the studio and his insistence on sleeping next to you most nights.

Now, he could let himself in whenever he got there, and you had quickly become used to his sudden appearances in your apartment, rolling over during the night and finding him sound asleep next to you never failed to bring a tiny smile to your face.

As you wandered through the house in search of him, you started to hear the faint sound of the shower running in the master bathroom, his bag and jacket on the chair by your bed.

While you waited for him to finish up in the shower, you decided to swap out of your town clothes and into something more comfortable, opting for some pajama shorts and one of Yoongi’s tshirts he’d ‘accidentally’ left for you to wear.

As you were pulling the shirt over your head, you heard the bathroom door open behind you, a pair of arms immediately snaking their way around your waist, his scent filling your senses instantly making all the tension in your body vanish as you leaned back into his hold.

“Hi.” Yoongi mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Hey.” You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “I didn’t think you’d be here this early, I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

“Nah, I went to wash up as soon as I got here, missed you tho.” He mumbled, placing the faintest kiss on your lips, pulling you along in a tired hug as he walked backwards to the bed, settling you on his lap. “Where were you off to today? I thought it was your day off?”

“It is, I just went for lunch with Hobi, and then we ended up doing some shopping as well.” You said, leaning down to connect your lips with his. As you kissed him though, you noticed that his movements suddenly became a bit hesitant, following your lead almost automatically.

Pulling back, you could tell something was on his mind, Yoongi’s gaze avoiding your own as he pressed his lips together, an expression you’d seen enough to know something was definitely bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked gently.

“Nothing, ‘m fine.” He said unconvincingly.

“Yoongs?” You pressed, studying him carefully.

He sighed. “It’s nothing, seriously.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, not if it’s bothering you this much.” You shifted on his lap, looping your arms over his shoulders to rub the back of his neck soothingly. He instinctively leaned into your touch, but said nothing.

“Baby please, talk to me.” You encouraged, using the petname you knew he had a weak spot for.

He fiddled with the hem of your shorts as he thought for a long moment, still not meeting your eyes when he finally spoke.

“You’re always with Hobi.” He mumbled.

You frowned. “I thought you liked me being friends with him?”

“I do, it’s just,” He sighed. “I don’t know, it’s like you’re just always together, and you always seem so happy with him, and I know it’s stupid, but it makes me feel a little…” His voice trailed off.

“Jealous?” You offered.

He nodded, glancing up at you.

“Baby,” You leaned in, kissing over his face as you spoke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I do like spending time with Hobi, but it’s nothing compared to how much I love being with you.”

“I know, I just get those stupid thoughts sometimes that maybe someone like him would be better for you.” He said, voice growing quieter as he spoke.

“Yoongi,” You said seriously, cupping his face as you spoke. “There is not a single person in this world better suited for me than you, you hear? You don’t have anything to worry about, I love you far too much for anyone else to ever take your place.”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide as they flicked up to meet yours, fully meeting your gaze at last as you realized what you’d said.

Despite having been together as long as you had, neither of you had yet to say those three words out loud.

“You love me?” He asked, looking up at you softly.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at your sudden admission, but you nodded, trying to ignore your feelings of self-consciousness. “Of course I do. You're everythi-”

Your words were cut off by Yoongi’s lips crashing against yours, kissing you hard enough to take your breath away.

Your hands flew back to his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip to elicit a surprised gasp from you and allowing him to delve into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours before you had to pull back for air. Even then though, his lips never left you, trailing down over your jaw and neck, leaving wet kisses in his wake.

“I love you too.” He breathed, laving over your skin with his tongue before sucking a mark below your ear. “God, I fucking love you so much.”

Your hips twitched forward involuntarily at his ministrations, making you aware of his growing bulge pressing against your core. You rolled your hips again, making him let out a soft grunt against your lips as his grip on your hips tightened and urged you on, the few layers of clothes between you creating just enough friction to make your mind go fuzzy with need.

You knew you could easily make yourself cum from this if you kept going, but you had other plans.

You pulled back, slipping your hand down between your bodies to palm at him over his shorts, making him let out a low growl against your lips, twitching against your hand before you pulled away again, sliding off his lap and settling between his knees.

Glancing up at him for permission, which he gave with a weak nod, you quickly tugged his shorts down enough to let his cock spring free, tip already flushed and dripping precum.

Wasting no time, you wrapped a hand around him tightly, pumping his length as you leaned down to give him a few kitten licks before sinking your mouth down on him, making his eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Y/n.” He groaned loudly, gripping the sheets beneath him tightly as you began to bob your head, setting a pace that quickly had him bucking up into your mouth.

You looked up at him again, watching closely as he lost himself in the feeling of you, the sight making you press your thighs together to try and ease the growing ache between them.

Just as you felt him beginning to tense, nearing his release, his hands suddenly gripped yours, tugging your hair to stop your movements as his dark eyes burned into yours. “I need to be inside you, please.”

Heat flooding your stomach at his words, you nodded, quickly climbing back to your feet.

You tried to straddle him again, but Yoongi flipped you over so he was now hovering over you, grinding his hips into yours teasingly and making you whine as your head fell back against the pillows.

“So pretty, always so pretty for me.” He mumbled, making his way down your front, leaving teasing kisses down your chest and tummy as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, yanking them and your underwear down in the same motion.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your mound, making you shudder at the feeling of his hot breath ghosting over where you needed him most. “And it’s all mine.”

He traced a finger between your folds, making your jolt at the sudden stimulation.

“Always so wet for me.” He smirked, spreading your arousal around as he toyed with your clit.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, feeling increasingly desperate. “Please.”

He only teased you for a moment before climbing back up and settling over you, bracing one hand by your head as he used the other to position himself at your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked in a breathless tone.

You nodded. “Yes, just please!”

In one swift motion, he slid inside you, making you both moan as he stretched you out. Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, he paused to let you adjust, staring down at you with absolute adoration.

“I love you.” He breathed, slowly drawing his hips back and thrusting into you, making you cry out.

His words and kisses were soft, but there was an edge of desperation to his movements, thrusting deep and hard, angling his hips to hit that spot that had your back arching off the bed as you repeated his name like a mantra.

“Say it again.” He groaned, struggling to keep his pace as he neared his high.

“Wha-?” You whined, mind hazy with the feeling of his cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Say it again, please!” He gasped, the earlier hints of desperation bleeding into his voice and clearing your head just enough to understand, pulling him close so your lips were almost touching.

“I love you.” You whispered.

He pounded into you even harder, making you cry out from the almost overwhelming pleasure as the coil inside you wound tighter and tighter.

Feeling you start to twitch and clench around him, Yoongi quickly slipped a hand down between you to rub frantically at your clit, making your whole body shake as you teetered on the edge.

“Cum for me, please!” He begged.

At his words, the coil snapped, your vision going white as heat coursed through you, spasming in his hold, the only sound able to escape from you a choked whine.

Feeling you cum around him was all he needed to hit his high as well, thrusting messily into you a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he painted your insides with his release.

Exhausted, he half-collapsed on top of you, catching himself on his elbows before fully falling on top of you.

“Are you okay?” You asked,

“Yeah, ’m fine.” He laughed, trying to catch his breath. “I’m great actually.”

He propped his chin on your chest, smiling up at you tiredly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You grinned, combing your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart twist as you looked at him. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve him.

You both lay quietly for a bit, basking in the peace of the moment as your breathing returned to normal. After a few minutes, he moved to pull out, but you stopped him, making him glance up at you in question.

“Stay,” You murmured sleepily. “I wanna stay close to you.”

Smiling softly at your half-sleeping state, he nodded. “I’ll stay as close as you want.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #bts one shot #bts smut #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts requests #7ndipity

[inkdrinkerworld]

adore your writing and spencer reid <<<333

all i can’t think about is knitter/crocheter reader who makes reid sweaters and cardigans and the first time she does it for him for his birthday. maybe reader works at the bau and manages to get to spencer’s desk early to leave the present for him, which is of course a gorgeous hand knit sweater<33

You and Spencer are a fresh thing. You were never a sure thing at the BAU, being brought in on a case need basis but even those short couple of days had drawn you and Spencer to each other.

Now, you’re almost six months into your relationship and his birthday is fast approaching. To deal with the stress of your job, you’d picked up crochet. A hobby to help you focus a little less on UnSubs and more on whatever you’re making.

You’re almost finished with Spencer’s birthday gift- a brand new sweater. It’s all the colours of autumn, browns and green, oranges and deep mauves. It’ll look great on him.

By the time his birthday rolls around, you’re weaving the ends in and wrapping it all pretty in brown paper with his name written in looping letters.

Everything else was planned out with the team, cake and lunch and even a little gift exchange but you want to give Spencer yours first.

It’s a rush to Quantico, there’s traffic and everyone is driving poorly and you’re panicking because Spencer is always five minutes early and you’re about ten minutes behind him.

In what you can only determine a change in luck and all of the gods on your side, you make it just in time to make a quick sprint in your heels no less to his desk to set the parcel down before he walks in behind you.

“Happy birthday, Spence!” You try for ease and an airy quality to your tone but it fails because you’re out of breath and nervous.

What if he hates it? Now you’re wondering if you got his measurements right- it’s always a gamble.

“Thank you,” he drops a kiss to your forehead and makes for the kitchen. “Did you have your coffee already? You seem wired.” He looks over his shoulder as he opens the fridge for milk.

You just shake your head. You’re trying not to wring your fingers to all hell as you watch Spencer set about making you both cups of coffee.

“There’s something on your desk,” again you try for a little ease, a little casualness but it falls very flat.

Especially when Spencer hums, a pretty smirk on his face. “Is there?”

“Spencer Reid, you can’t do that.” You stomp your foot a little and he laughs, reaching for you just as the kettle goes off.

“I can do anything, it’s my birthday.” You sigh and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“I suppose you can, but would you open it before the rest of the team get here? In case you hate it?”

He tuts, “You know I won’t.” Spencer sets both mugs on his desk, nudging you to have a sip and you frown when you realise it’s herbal tea and not the coffee you’d been hoping for. “Your hands have been shaking and cramping a lot more recently.���

You watch with eagerness as he opens the parcel, a smile breaking out on his face as he realises what it is.

“Do you like it?” You’re nibbling on your lip, ruining your pretty glossy lips.

“Think it would be too much to put it on now?” Your eyes brighten and you squeal.

“Would you really?” Spencer nods, hands already reaching for his blazer to strip.

It’s bad luck that’s just when Morgan and Emily stroll in, a low whistle sounding in the room.

“Oh okay, pretty boy, I see you!” Derek says and Emily laughs while Spencer, even after all the things he’s lived, flushes.

You on the other hand, roll your eyes.

“You know, you could’ve saved it for after the ‘happy birthday’.” Derek only shakes his head.

“I don’t think I need to wish him one if he’s willing to risk an HR meeting.”

Spencer kisses you smack on the mouth which is only fuel to the fire. “I’ll wear it tonight angel, thank you.”

You’re a little dazed and Spencer seems to relish that fact. “You’re welcome, Spence.”

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x black!reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n

[1pepsiboy]

Just Like A Movie (Matt Sturniolo fluff)

Description: After a morning of fliming, Matt wants to enjoy fall activites with his girlfriend (reader). Inspired the song by the Wallows and Matt's love for fall time.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: None, just fluffy and silly Matt!

A/N: This is my first Matt writing, so sorry if it's not totally accurate! Lol I do requests! Currently anything Chris, Matt, Nick, and Colby!

----

Matt, Chris, and Nick were filming a guess 21 different halloween candies challenge. You sat on the couch behind the camera, scrolling through your phone but periodically looked up to glance at your boyfriend. Who would cheese when you did. Sometimes you'd make a silly face or comment, distracting him enough they'd have to restart part of the segment. Finally, they finish and Matt was the one closest to getting them all right. It wasn't surprising since he'd won guessing 21 different drinks.

Matt makes his way to the couch and wrapped his arms around you immediately. He nustles his head into your shoulder for a couple minutes and you run your fingertips up and down his back. Then he gives you a quick peck on the lips, mostly because Nick and Chris were still in the kitchen and they would make jokes about it.

You lick your lips and furrow your brows. "Hmm... I taste Snickers? No, Reese's?"

"(y/n)!" Matt whines lightly.

"Wait, wait, wait." You kiss his soft lips again. "It's Kitkat!"

A giggle escapes Matt and he lightly rolls his blue eyes. "Can we go do fall things, babe? Get away from those idiots over there. I've had enough of them today."

Nick flips him off as Chris fake laughs and makes a face. "So unoriginal Matt."

Now you roll your eyes. "Let's leave these losers to their lame things."

----

"I can drive if you want, babe," you suggest as you make it out the door after Matt changed his outfit to fit the vibe more. It's early afternoon now and barely a breeze to make it feel like a real fall day.

He shoots you a side smile and unclips the keys from his jean beltloop. "No, that's okay, I don't mind."

The two of you get comfortable in the front seats, starting up the recent playlist you created.

"Where to first?" you ask.

"What about... apple patch? Wait, I mean pumpkin picking... Fuck, I mean apple picking and then a pumpkin patch."

You reach out and lace your fingers with his. "I'd love to go to an apple patch and pumpkin picking. Maybe hot cocoa after?"

He nods and you put in the directions for the nearest apple picking farm. The two of you sing along. And you couldn't help pointing out people going about their daily lives. It takes up most of your conversation before you arrive at the farm.

Matt locks the car before he clips them back on the their loop and takes your hand. The apple farm was free to anyone, but they had a jar and square for donations/tips. You take out your card for them to do a $5 donation, and Matt doubles the amount.

You take a small basket and pull him over to one of the trees. Unfortunately most of the reachable ones were picked. But both of you still attempt to get one or two by running and jumping. You know you look like idiots, however you didn't care.

Matt gets a video of you as you finally acquire an apple and show it triumphantly. "That's right. No tree is a match for me! This apple is my bitch." You bite a chunk of the crispy green apple.

Matt laughs. "Babe, we're supposed to save them to make caramel apples!"

Your eyes go wide and you laugh as you chew it to a point you could speak. "Sorry, I can get another one."

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he shakes his head. "Let's try a different tree.

The second tree was a similar situation despite it just being on the brink of fall. There were a lot of early birds.

This time you get a story of Matt snagging two apples and he tries to not show how out of breath he is. "Ahh! Hah! I got some."

The two of you try two more trees and manage to get a few more.

There was a station for you to either bag them right away or make them caramel or chocolate covered before leaving. You spend far too long deciding on how many should be caramel and chocolate, and what toppings should be on them. You think of each brother and friend that'll want one. By the end, there's only one left and neither of you made one for yourselves.

"You choose," Matt says, kissing your cheek.

With creative intuition, you make it half and half, then smear all sorts of toppings on it and present it. Matt rests his hand on top of yours and takes a bite out of it.

"Mm..." he nods and runs a half through his hair, most of falling back in place. "I like what you did with the caramel and chocolate."

You take your own, attempting to lick the excess off around your mouth. "Delicious."

Your next stop was at a nearby pumpkin patch, which was also a little picked over. But there were still enough to enjoy and walk around a little bit. You pick up a few of the biggest ones you could find to get photos with.

Matt pulls you in for a selfie. His eyes squint as the sun is directly in your eyes and fumbles backwards. This causes him to run into a bundle of baby pumpkins and his butt lands on top of the stems.

"Fucking shit!" He groans as he holds onto his ass and rolls over on the ground.

You hold back a laugh and help him up. He paces back and forth a couple times.

"I'm done with the pumpkins," he sulks.

"Let's get hot cocoa to make it all better," you baby, jutting out your bottom lip.

He tries not to laugh but it didn't work.

----

You enjoy a small walk as you sip on hot cocoa, the sun starts to go down. You hold the to-go cup tightly between your palms in the hopes to warm up your hands. You forgot to bring any sort of warm layer. Once the sun is gone, it feels like fall now.

Matt shoots you a concerned look. "Are you cold, babe?"

"A little, yeah," you laugh under your breath.

"Here, wear my sweater, (y/n)."

"No, it's fine."

It's too late, he already took his jacket off and pulls the vintage sweater over his head. You take the sweater and tug it over your short sleeve tee. The warmth of the material and from him wearing it all afternoon engulfs your entire body. It sends shivers down your spine from the temperature adjustment.

Matt has his jacket back on and wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. He kisses the crook of your neck. "Better?"

"Absolutely."

The two of you reminisce on your adventures of the day. Ultimately, though, it leads back to a few of the couples around you in the park. One were unashamedly having a full on make out session underneath a tree. Another were taking cutesy photos in matching outfits.

"You'll never catch us doing that," Matt comments.

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Did you forget the matching pj pants we had for christmas last year?"

"That doesn't count," he scoffs lightly. "It was only pants. I mean, like, top, pants, accessories, the whole fit. It's just cringy."

You giggle. "Whatever you say, Matty B."

"It is! Are you saying you want to do that?" He sips on his hot cocoa. "Cause that might be a deal breaker."

"Not seriously. More in an ironic way. Like those people on tiktok doing the 80s style photoshoots at JcPenny. Now that would be fun and not cringy!"

He shook his head. "No, nope."

"Come on!" you argue. "Think about the memories we could make!"

"Absolutely not, it would be embarrasing."

You roll your eyes. "That's kind of the point, babe."

"Still," he retorts.

"Fine." You sigh lightly. "I'll just ask Chris to do it with me. He won't care."

Matt shrugs, finishing the last of his drink, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. "Okay, you two have fun with that."

"We will." You do the same with your drink.

You sense Matt's a little down now and force him into a hug. "Thanks for today, babe. You're the best."

He falls into your body more and lets out a deep breath. "Any time, (y/n)."

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #apple picking #pumpkin patch #fall things #the wallows #Spotify

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part seven

part eight: i think about jumping off of very tall somethings

Eddie was fully convinced he had lost whatever remaining dignity he might have had when his friends had found him sunken into his beanbag chair with random detritus strewn around the room. He really thought he could not feel any lower than when Ronnie made it more obvious than necessary that she was picking her way through Eddie's junk to stick a hand into his nest and pull him out by his collar. He thought that was rock bottom, but being early for coffee with Robin and Nancy and having to wait with a cooling americano he spent way too much money on really gave that whole experience a run for its money.

Ronnie had suggested dming Robin and Nancy and testing the waters to see if they would be willing to broker some sort of reunion with Steve. Eddie stared at her like she had suggested he deliver the one ring to mordor alone; however, she obviously had a point since the newly announced couple suggested meeting up.

"Hey! Eddie! Sorry we're late!" Robin caught Eddie's attention as Nancy went to order.

"Oh, uh, no worries," Eddie fumbled, "I'm just happy you're here at all honest."

"I mean, Nance said it's only fair to hear you out but you were fucking brutal to my best friend, dude, so like the window to give you some grace is pretty fucking small," Robin answered.

"No, yeah totally understood. How do you want to do this?" Eddie asked.

"Why don't you just explain what happened from your side of things. From our angle, you look like kind of a douche but also I feel like maybe Steve didn't handle things great either? I dunno. I mean, you made him really happy, if we have a chance to fix that, I think I owe it to Steve, right?" Robin answered.

"Sure, yeah, no that makes sense," Eddie started as Nancy sat down with her and Robin's drinks.

"Keep going, Eddie, this is mostly Robin's thing anyway," Nancy prompted. She did not look quite as open to fixing things as Robin did and Eddie felt a little more nervous after he let himself relax in Robin's easy presence.

"For sure, so like obviously you know all of the like tabloid bullshit about Steve and whatever and like I kind of got it and understood but then without any warning I show up and Steve's like gorgeous and super successful ex was just on his couch and Steve isn't willing to explain? I mean that was pretty fucking hard to swallow," Eddie finished a little less certain of where he stood with Robin as she narrowed her eyes over her tea.

"So instead of trusting Steve and listening to him when he told you how much the tabloids have lied about him throughout his career you let the fact that I was present in his home be enough to trump years of what you all had built?" Nancy questioned. Eddie could see her journalism chops coming out.

"That's fair. I mean, I definitely acted without a lot of thought but like, why wouldn't you have looped me in? Did you guys not trust me?" Eddie asked still trying to figure out why he was left flat footed all those weeks ago.

"I think that might be on me," Robin piped up, "I was pretty nervous about coming out and I think Steve was being super protective and didn't want to ask me to come out to more people than I was wanting to. It's not that he didn't trust you, Eddie, it's that we had some pretty shitty years with different agents trying to push me in different directions and I think he just was sick of feeling like outside forces were making me move quicker than I was ready to. And it's not like you made it easy on him to reach out to you after. How was he supposed to respond when you blocked him on literally every platform?"

"I guess I didn't think he would want to explain or he'd try to like explain everything away even though it had seemed obvious at the time he was cheating on me," Eddie paused when both Robin and Nancy threw death glares across the table, "Jeez, I know now that was stupid but at the time it was the only rational I could see."

"I guess we should stop interrogating you, you do seem pretty serious, otherwise I don't think you would have agreed to meet both of us," Nancy jumped in.

"I really regret cutting him off like I did. I know I got way too in my head about everything immediately and just didn't give it time or let him respond," Eddie tried to sound as apologetic as he felt.

"We believe you, you two are both dinguses," Robin cut in, "more importantly, what are we going to do about that fucking song and how the hell do you propose apologizing for all the shit you stirred?"

"I thought we were done with the interrogation," Eddie held his hands up.

"Only about whether or not you're genuine, you still have to figure out how you are putting my bestie back together," Robin answered.

"So about that. I have a couple ideas. One, I feel like a song got us into this mess and my label wants more music anyways so I am kind of thinking of an apology song. The rest of my band has actually started workshopping some stuff with me to try to put it together as soon as we can. I'm kind of hoping to release it before Steve gets back so we are a bit under the clock," Eddie began, "And second, that's where I was kind of hoping you guys could help. I don't want to like ambush the guy but I also don't know if Steve will be interested in meeting with me or like ready to start dating again. I was kind of hoping I could crash one of your movie nights? Maybe once Steve gets settled a bit more?"

"Steve is not the best with surprises," Robin thought aloud, "but that's not a no, it's a convince me."

"I just figure he'll be in his space and relaxed and he also fully has an out to have you kick me out if he isn't interested. If he is, I was kind of hoping you too would be willing to make yourselves scarce?" Eddie hoped that was enough.

Surprisingly, Nancy was the one to answer.

"I think we have a deal, Munson," Nancy stuck her hand out for Eddie to shake.

Eddie left the cafe feeling more hopeful than he had in some time.

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast

@mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging @lunaraquaenby @stripey82

@lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog @counting-dollars-counting-stars @bookworm0690

(if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

[antiodote]

she can't finish and they fight - part III

warnings: drug/alcohol abuse, mention of purging, slight mentions of sexual activity (but not really)

"fuck you, harry."

part I & II

+++

she had slept in her car that night.

more specifically, she had parked in her gym’s parking lot and fell asleep in her car. her idea? get to the gym at 6 in the morning, run for an hour straight at an ungodly speed that might make her sick, shower and scrub her body so thoroughly that it hurt, get ready in the bathroom of said gym and arrive at work bright and early as if nothing ever happened. she even thought about getting some iced coffee on the way. you know, as a treat.

she also felt numb. so, so numb.

after she had left home - no, harry’s place - she wondered if all of it was a nightmare. some sort of hallucination that manifested itself into her brain after 6 weeks of straight malnourishment and sleep deprivation. never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that he would ever speak to her in that way or do something like that to her; question her trust like that. she asked herself if she even knew who he was or if the last four years had been a lie, but somewhere between taking an impossibly hot shower and slapping tons of concealer under her eyes in an attempt to cover her dark circles, she had decided to not think about it for as long as she possibly could. she just wouldn’t think about it, wouldn’t talk to anyone about it and she definitely, definitely, definitely wasn’t going to face him anytime soon.

and so, she arrived at work at 8:54 am, ready to get some work done and pretend that everything was as it should be. fortunately for her, it seemed to work out - for most of the day, that is.

she had greeted some co-workers, wrote down a list of to-do’s for the day, checked off those to-do’s one by one, had some coffee, ate some lettuce wraps for lunch and threw up said lettuce wraps, returned to drinking coffee and nothing but. with a few meetings here and there, some office gossip and a pile of work later, her work day was finished. she found herself wishing that she could be stuck in that loop for the rest of her life - or at least for another few hours - so she could escape the reality of things for just a tiny bit longer. things don’t seem to go to plan for her lately.

“you’re leaving early? is it christmas already?”

she turned around to find tony, one of her coworkers, looking at her with an expression that indicated humour. she wasn’t really up for humour right now, but she also didn’t want to seem any more off than she probably already did. so, she forced a chuckle and answered.

“well, technically, I’m not leaving early. I just finished my work on time and don’t really feel like staying longer today, honestly.”

“so compared to your usual hours, you’re still leaving early.”

she looked at him with a frozen smile that didn’t reach her eyes. she hated when people - no, men - repeated her exact words back to her as if she were stupid. she hated it with a passion. harry never spoke to her like that. she should tell him all about it once she gets home, she thought. 

as she realised that she couldn’t do that, she quickly turned away from tony to resume packing her bag.

“I suppose you’re right, tony. what can I do for you?”

he hoped her tone indicated her lack of interest in their conversation. she truly desired nothing more than to get out of this office and figure out her plan for the next few days.

“some of us wanted to get some drinks at this bar down the street. you know, the one that does trivia on wednesday nights? would you like to join us? you can tell your boyfriend to come!”

every single part of those sentences made her feel woozy. the idea of having drinks with her coworkers was absolutely atrocious; she couldn’t physically think of something that she would’ve liked to do less at that moment. however, the mention of him made her suddenly want something to drown out her thoughts with. she usually never resorted to alcohol, but the burn of some heavy liquor in her throat would for sure help her out, at least for now. she needed to feel something. so, without giving it much more thought, she turned around, smiled, and almost robotically replied.

“sure, I’d love to come. thanks for the invite! I’ll ask if he can make it.”

+++

8pm arrived and y/n was piss drunk. 

when they arrived at the bar her coworkers ordered a round of different dishes for the table while she immediately went for the drinks. beer wasn’t her favourite, so vodka would suffice. one drink turned into two, two turned into four and before she realised, she found herself 7 drinks deep into her own abyssal torment. none of her coworkers seemed to notice, either because they lacked interest or she was too good at hiding her intoxication. she barely spoke at the table, anyway. 

“so, y/n! where is that lovely boyfriend of yours? we haven’t seen him since last year’s christmas party. he was fun!” one of her older coworkers, maude, chirped. 

y/n looked up from her drink, slightly disoriented at first. she kept forgetting that the outside world wasn’t aware of how her life crumbled into pieces at her feet. 

act normal. act normal. act normal.

“oh, he’s been pretty busy. you know, with his music and stuff. I’m sorry he couldn’t make it tonight.” she replied. funny how she didn’t even know where he was, right now. 

“oh, that’s a shame. make sure to bring him around again soon! he did a whole coffee run when he visited you last time. even paid for my extra pumps of hazelnut syrup, the ol’ charmer.” maude giggled. y/n forgot how older ladies seemed to adore him. then again, everyone did.

she also did.

in an attempt to seem flattered, she shook her head with a smile on her face. she couldn’t possibly have any of them suspect anything. the last thing she needed was to be the subject of infuriating office chitchat. luckily, she found it quite easy to keep up fake conversation and with that, fake emotion. she truly didn’t care for the people she worked with. a job was a job, nothing more. sure, she loved what she did, but it didn’t change the fact that her job wasn’t her life, or at least, shouldn’t be. she barely cared about her boss, but she did care about the money. a lot. 

for all she cared, she was going to keep up the lie for as long as she had to, and she was fine with that. but maybe, just maybe, it gave her an excuse to pretend that everything was still okay between her and harry. she might as well treat her workplace as an alternate reality; a parallel universe where she could still go home to her lover and had never been kicked out of her own home. a home she helped to build with all the love she possessed in her heart. 

oh, what a waste of love, she thought.

“y/n, are you still with us?” 

“huh? what?”

people laughed. her eyebrows furrowed. she glanced around. she was confused. she felt embarrassed.

“oh, darling, maybe cut back on those drinks you’ve been chugging! I mean, I know you’re a heavyweight and it’s the weekend, but you just totally spaced out on us!“ lena - a younger coworker of hers - said, giggling her way through her remark.

“oh god, sorry. it’s been a long week, you know how it is.” she tried to go along with the joke, while truthfully feeling mortified for letting her guard down. “what were you saying?”

she honestly couldn’t care less. 

“oh, we were just talking about potentially making this a regular thing! you know, to strengthen team morale and all.”

she smiled. there was no way in hell. 

“sure! sounds fun.”

they nodded in agreement, believing her made-up enthusiasm. maybe she should’ve gone to acting school with how believable her act was. or they might just not care about her, just like she doesn’t care about them. they definitely didn’t care enough to ask.

the question was: who did care about her?

her coworkers don’t seem to do so. she’d barely seen any of her friends for a long while now. she hadn’t spoken to her family in what felt like forever. 

she always thought that harry cared.

harry. oh, harry. 

harry. harry. harry.

she suddenly rose up from her seat, pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction.

“I’m gonna use the restroom.”

and gone she was. 

her heart was beating unbelievably fast. she wasn’t feeling good, at all. maybe the alcohol did take a toll on her.

without checking her surroundings, she almost bolted to the restroom. as soon as she entered, she picked one of the empty stalls and found purchase on the sticky floor, almost dramatically sliding down along the closed door. she needed to breathe. her head hung low between her bent knees, her hands clasping around her ears. with her eyes screwed shut and her hearing now impacted, she was now robbed of most of her senses, grounding her somewhat. ‘please, please, please’ was chanted in her head like a mantra; she couldn’t lose her composure like this, anything else was not as important at this moment. 

“everything okay in there? should I get someone?”

her head shot up. fuck.

her breathing must’ve been heavy or maybe the words she repeated weren’t as quiet as she thought. she wasn’t sure who was behind the door, but she wasn’t strong enough to face them.

“uh, I’m okay! thanks for asking.”

silence. 

“y/n? is that you?”

wait, what? she knew that voice.

she got up to open the door and was suddenly faced with a very familiar face.

“jane?”

+++

harry doesn’t remember the last time he felt so hollow. with every moment that passed, he felt more and more like he was drowning. like he was making a terrible, terrible mistake.

the last thing she had said to him before she went to pack a bag was ‘fuck you, harry.’ and truthfully, at first, he was angry. angry at how they argued, angry at her for leaving, angry at himself for not asking her to stay. it was a little later though, right after the door slammed shut behind her that he realised he couldn’t have asked her to stay when he was the one who told her to leave.

and then it dawned on him. he told her to leave. he kicked her out. in the middle of the night. in a city where he himself had been robbed at knifepoint not too long ago. 

the panic kicked in soon after.

so, he called. and called. and called.

but she never answered. 

after the 30th call, her phone went straight to voicemail. that was when harry really started freaking out. 

where did she go? was she safe? what if something happened? harry wouldn’t forgive himself if something were to have happened.

he bit and chewed on his fingers until they bled. he didn’t sleep. his mind and soul were surrounded by an image of her in danger. in pain. hurt.

though, he hurt her that night. 

he was the one who put her in that situation. he hurt her. why the fuck did he do that? why the actual fuck did he do that?

when the panic passed, the self-loathing soon followed. he didn’t understand how things were so quick to turn around when they were more than okay a mere few weeks ago. he treated her like she was disposable and he doesn’t think he will ever forgive himself for it. 

when the hatred for himself outweighed the worry he had for her, he resorted to pills to find slumber that night. the sleep was terrible, but it was better than nothing.

he woke up the next morning, finding himself on his kitchen floor. he must’ve passed out then and there. he checked the clock just above the fridge. the time was 9:15 AM. if she was okay, she must be at work. he could go there to check on her, see if her car was there. but, then again, he felt like he was the last person she wanted around her at this moment. if she was even alive, that is.

his rationality came back to him somewhere after 11 in the morning, just after his shower. she was a strong and capable woman, she was probably fine. she had to be, or he was never going to be fine again.

he went back to the kitchen to fetch himself some water for his run. if there was one thing that helped him, it was running for miles and miles and miles ahead and drowning out his surroundings with music through his headphones. as he opened the fridge he was faced with a bowl that was filled with cubes of fruit. the bowl was shaped like a lemon and had the colour to go with it. he remembers how y/n had picked it out online, gushing over how cute and fitting it is.

‘you always sing about fruit! might as well have a lemon-shaped bowl, if you ask me.’

he remembers how he had chuckled in response, pulled her in for a kiss on her temple, and replied ‘whatever you want, love.’

why do those days feel so far away now? 

he looked all around the kitchen and observed how every nook and cranny of this house had pieces of her littered all over it. the kitchen clock; a soft yellow one with slender, roman numbering on it - she chose it. the light pink cabinets - she painted them. actually, they painted them together and made sweet love on that very floor when they were finished. every piece of decoration - she had collected them whenever they had travelled. he particularly took notice of a framed picture right next to the sink. a moment captured when they made fresh pasta at his mother’s house when they were there for her birthday, two years ago. he remembered the moment so, so vividly.

‘harry, for goodness’ sake! you’re making a mess!’

she was the one who rolled out the dough by hand, since harry had previously dropped the pasta maker on the floor, resulting in its break. feeling a little useless, he wanted to do whatever he could to make her laugh. so, he did what any child would do: poured flour over them. first, her nose. then, her cheeks. shortly after, her head. and when she was sick of him, she grabbed the packet from his grasp and poured every last bit over him. her glimmering eyes looked straight at his playful ones. she bit her lips, in order to deny him the satisfaction of a laugh, and he looked just about ready to burst at the seams. 

in that moment, his sister quietly took a picture, making sure to get it back to them for one of their birthdays. when she was done, she clapped her hands to gain their attention, and suddenly they stood there like deers caught in headlights. 

then, laughter erupted. loud, hearty, full laughter. 

harry had to physically shake his head to lose the memory. when a sudden sickness overcame him, he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach right into said sink. was this kind of behaviour normal after a breakup? he didn’t know.

breakup. breakup. breakup.

the word swam around his vision, making him want to gauge his own eyes out. were they broken up, now? could she ever forgive him? then again, could he forgive her for lying to him? his mind was swarmed with all sorts of questions that he had no way of finding an answer to, at least not anytime soon. 

he needed to go on that run.

so, he did. and ever so conveniently, he ran by her workplace. low and behold, her car was there, unscathed. relief flooded him, but so did dread. because if she was at work, that meant she was fine. which also meant that she didn’t pick up his calls on purpose. she didn’t want to talk to him. 

good. maybe they shouldn’t talk for a while. whatever. 

he ran back home and didn’t leave the house for the remaining day.

+++

jane was y/n’s lifelong friend. they went to high school together and were usually inseparable. however, with both of their schedules being as crazy as they were, they rarely saw each other these days. when jane saw the state of her in that bathroom stall, she paid for her tab and drove her home. y/n didn’t say much in that time, still in a state of sensory overload. it was only when she saw how they were approaching harry’s driveway that she spoke. 

“we can’t go there.” 

jane whipped her head towards the passenger seat. “what do you mean, petal?” 

y/n stared straight ahead. “we can’t go to harry’s place. can I stay with you tonight? I’ll explain everything.”

jane looked at her for a few beats longer, worry etched deep into her features, until she turned her car around and drove to her own apartment. just over 30 minutes later, they arrived.

y/n soon realised how drunk she truly was, especially when the glare of the white lightbulbs in jane’s bathroom made her head throb and her guts churn. she ended up leaning above the toilet bowl in an attempt to empty the contents of her stomach, however, her attempt was in vain; nothing left her stomach. and yet, she felt so empty. 

she wished that she had shouted at harry, maybe even slap him across his annoyingly pretty face. she wished she had done something to stop him from doing what he did. but alas, just like nothing left her now, nothing left her then. she was always so perfectly contained. harry had even told her on multiple occasions that she needed to let loose, even if it was just a little bit. he was good at helping her with that. she always felt so unbothered and carefree in his presence. 

oh, harry. what have you done?

“god, harry. you fucking idiot.” 

the first sob of the night left her. then came the second. the third quickly followed. all of a sudden, she found herself crying in agony over her best friend’s toilet.

“y/n, you okay?? can I come in?” jane called from the other side of the door, but y/n didn’t hear. the echo of her cries within the toilet bowl was too loud for her to be aware of her surroundings. thus, a very worried-looking jane came bursting through the door. as she found y/n in literal shambles across the bathroom floor, she couldn’t help but choke up herself. she’d never seen her like this, and it truly broke her heart.

“hey, hey pretty girl, it’s alright. I’m here, good god, I’m here. let it all out.”

jane ended up cradling y/n, almost like you would calm a crying baby, and y/n didn’t realise how much she truly needed it. however, she still didn’t dare to speak. she feared that, once she recalled the events out loud, they would become reality. she wasn’t ready for that to happen, not yet. maybe not ever, but definitely not now. 

so she cried and cried and cried until there was nothing left to give. jane and her wordlessly went to bed that night, bundled up in blankets to keep out the cold. 

y/n feared she might never feel normal again, if she even knew what that was. she felt like harry completed her, and that scared her to death.

when she woke up the next day, she finally threw up. with the vodka finally out of her system and her stomach basically cleansed, she felt a lot better than she thought she would. the headache was manageable and the nausea came and went. she could survive this.

she didn’t know about the rest of her circumstances, though. 

whenever the thought of him popped into her head, she did whatever she could to distract herself. first thing in the morning? she showered after her journey to the toilet bowl. after the shower? extensive skincare. when she saw her tired expression in the mirror? left the bathroom to borrow some of jane’s clothes. eventually, she had run out of distractions in the bedroom, so she escaped to the kitchen. when she started preparing breakfast and turned up the radio just a touch, she was reminded of him, again. soon enough, she realised that everything reminded her of him, and there was nothing she could do about it. would be too easy, right?

for the first time in a while, she felt vulnerable. raw. like there was no skin over her pain and a gust of wind could make it bleed.

the realisation knocked the air out of her for just a moment, but it was enough for her to turn the stove off and sit down. she felt as if she had just run up the stairs, in fear that somebody was chasing her. she felt out of breath, disoriented and weirded out. maybe she should go to that doctor to talk about her anxiety, harry had always-

“hey, you! making some breakfast? how kind.” jane chimed, bright and chipper, ripping y/n out of her thoughts. she caught her gaze, offering a smile. “oh, I was just up early today. the eggs are probably burnt, though. just a heads up.”

jane nodded and went straight to her bag of toaster waffles and popped one of them into her mouth. a quick turn later, she faced y/n with an apologetic expression. as much as she wanted to grant y/n her bit of privacy, she needed to know what happened. before jane could open her mouth, y/n spoke. she spoke and spoke and spoke, retelling the whole thing, from the moment she felt overwhelmed at work, right up to the point where harry kicked her out. this was the second day she wasn’t at his place, refusing to refer to it as ‘home’, and everything still felt awfully unreal. jane listened and listened until she snapped. 

“hold on, what? you slept in your damn car? why didn’t you call me? y/n, that was so unsafe, dear god!” 

she was pacing up and down her lengthy kitchen, trying to wrap her head around how her best friend’s picture-perfect relationship went to shit without anybody else noticing. 

“I know, jane, I know, but I wasn’t really thinking and I didn’t want to bother anyone. the two of us have barely spoken lately, and-“

“as if that matters! y/n, you’re my best friend, okay? my ride or die. it doesn’t matter if I see you once a week or once a year, I am the person you tell these things to, okay? I’m the person you ask for help!”

y/n didn’t answer, shame clouding her senses. instead, her gaze turned downwards and she started picking her nails.

“you’re staying with me until we figure this out, okay? I don’t want to hear shit.” 

when y/n didn’t answer, jane physically forced her to look at her by nudging her hand under her chin and gently dragging it upwards. “got it, petal?” 

y/n nodded.

“wonderful! oh, and if I see harry, just know I’m gonna beat the shit out of him. lord knows he deserved it-“

“you will not, okay?”

jane looked at y/n as if she had grown a third head. confusedly, she goes: “wait, are you planning to forgive him, or something?”

y/n became frustrated. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, okay? I just don’t know. I can’t face him for a bit, but I can’t tell you what’ll happen afterwards. please don’t hurt him, I know that you actually would.”

jane listened, processed, and nodded. she didn’t want to cause her any more emotional turmoil. 

“okay, dude. whatever you say. now, let’s plan this sleepover of ours!”

+++

it’d been seven days since harry had last seen her. with every day that had passed, his emotions spiralled.

his first phase: hatred. 

he hated her. he hated her boss, her work, her mindset. he hated all of the things he could blame for their fallout, thus also hating himself. he hated himself so much that he couldn’t bare to look at himself. when he wasn’t excessively punching things in his at-home gym, he got high and broke stuff. he called her and spoke spiteful things onto her voicemail. he cried angry tears and listened to angry, devastating music. 

the music triggered the second phase: sorrow.

he cried and cried and cried, especially to sad coldplay songs or the old records that his stepfather used to collect. the crying made him tired, so he slept a lot during this phase. though, as soon as he woke up, he’d be crying again. 

when the crying stopped, the depression came.

heaviness shaped his form. his feet felt too heavy to lift,  thus his bed became his permanent residence for a bit. his mind was hazy and everything he attempted to do sucked every last bit of energy out of him, resulting in a permanent state of exhaustion. 

his empty bed triggered his longest phase: loneliness.

he missed her. so fucking much.

he missed her smell. her peaceful, sleeping state. he missed how she would always have to collect individual hairs off of their covers because her hair just shed in heaps during her slumber. he missed how she’d look up at him when the first few moments of consciousness kissed her in the morning. he missed how he could lay his head on her soft chest and listen to her steady heartbeat. he missed how she would sometimes lovingly grab him by the jaw and pull him down to kiss his forehead. he missed how she used to make him coffee in the morning and he’d eat her out on the kitchen table to say thank you. he missed her body, every mark and every freckle. he missed her voice and wished he’d recorded it at some point. he missed the way she’d hug him from every angle. he missed how she could talk to him for hours about anything. he missed making love to her.

he missed being able to love her. 

he feared that she was gone now. far, far away from his reach. he had to make peace with it, though. right?

thus he welcomed his current phase: apathy. 

he didn’t care anymore; he wasn’t going to get her back. he’d fucked up too bad, so he resorted to resenting her for her mistakes. the negative emotions that were previously directed towards him only were now evenly distributed amongst her, him, their situation and the world. he didn’t want to talk to anyone, reach out to anyone, or even acknowledge his feelings in any way. as he cleaned up his house from the shards and pieces of the the things he had destroyed, he found a weird sense of serenity in the acceptance of his downfall. all was lost now, what else could go wrong? 

then, his phone rang.

he checked. it was sarah. 

he wasn’t going to pick up, but she’d called him a few times now. he didn’t want to worry her, so he finally picked up.

“hello?”

a sigh of relief left her.

“goodness, harry, where were you? I’ve been trying to reach you for ages! look, some things need to be picked up for the rehearsal dinner on tuesday. could you maybe handle it? I wouldn’t ask you but mitch and I have been super busy with everything else. pleeaasee?”

harry’s brows furrowed. rehearsal dinner?

then, he remembered. the fucking wedding.

mitch and sarah had been officially married for over a year, yet they never had a proper celebration due to obvious restrictions. and honestly, he’d completely forgotten about it within the last few days. a wedding for his best friends, which she was also supposed to attend. how on earth could he make this right?

“oh! and tell y/n to call me back, please! I’ve been meaning to talk to her about the dresses for the bridesmaids, but her phone is dead or something.”

without missing a beat, harry replied. “yeah, sure. I’ll tell her. also, send me what you need picked up and I’ll get it to you.” 

if there was one thing harry and y/n had in common, it was this: they would always put other people’s needs above their own, especially if it concerned their loved ones. there was no way in hell he would make one of his best friends worry about him when her wedding was just around the corner. he’ll pretend if he had to. but he was not going to fuck this up for them.

“oh, you’re an angel! I’ll send you all the details, thank you! I have to go now but give y/n a kiss from me, please. love you! see you later! bye!”

the phone beeped until inevitable silence.

right, so he had to hope that y/n would attend the wedding. no, he had to be sure that she would be there. not only that; he had to hope that she would agree to act normal around their friends, for now. 

harry needed to find a way to reach her. he might’ve fucked up his own relationship, but he was not going to spoil his friend’s wedding. 

wonderful. what could go wrong? except for absolutely everything?

+++

5.1k, not proofread (whoops), lowercase intended

PART THREE IS HERE HELLOOOOO

thank you for your patience !! i know it’s been a long time coming. parts of this were kind of hard to write for me, so excuse any ill worded sentences, please <3

i hope you enjoy this one! as always, all the love xx

-ve !!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #i was feeling very down while writing this and i hope it shows <3 #antiodote #he's writing! #harry styles smut #harry styles soft

[why-are-all-the-users-taken]

idk who said it, but someone was like "what happened if the main peculiar children just lost their peculiar abilities" and i- i desperately need go make a one shot for this so here y'all go :)

*this takes place around a map of days bc that's the book I've gotten up to at this point*

*third person*

Jacob woke up feeling quite odd, though he hadn't the faintest idea why.

He went out into the living room where all of his friends we're already up. They had all became quite time blind in the mornings due to the loop switchings, so they often woke up fairly early.

Olive and Claire were watching cartoons,and had made Bronwyn watch with them.

Millard was on a different couch reading a book with Hugh stumped against him attempting to read the novel as well.

Jacob smiled at his friends before walking into the kitchen where there was a wonderful aroma of pancakes and syrup.

It seemed that Miss Peregrine had forced Enoch, Emma, and Horace to help her cook breakfast. Though Jacob was fairly certain that Horace was willing to make it and had forced Enoch to help.

"Morning all," Jacob said as he started getting plates out of the cabinets to set the table with.

Emma brighten and quickly hugged him. "Morning!"

"Miss. Bloom," Miss Peregrine called out from the stove. "Can you keep these pancakes warm while I finished making the rest?"

"Course!"

"Mr. O'Connor, can you please finish the fruit salad instead of mopping around?" Miss P sighed.

Enoch muttered something under his breath but started cutting up fruit nonetheless.

Horace was humming a tune as he cooked the sausage.

"What on earth?" Emma's sudden outburst brought Jacob's attention to her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Emma rubbed her hands together and then held them our through the already baked pancakes and frowned. "My fire isn't working!"

Miss. Peregrine's brow furrowed. "Perhaps you used too much fire yesterday?" She suggested.

"Maybe..." Emma said but she's didn't sound sure.

"MISS. P!!!" Hugh came running into the room dragging Millard behind him.

At first Jacob didn't know what was wrong with Millard. The boy was just staring at his hands. Then Jacob remembered that Millard was supposed to be invisible, and you shouldn't be able to see his hands.

The other's in the kitchen seemed to realize it at the same time he did and they all gasped.

"You're hands are visible!" Horace exclaimed, stating the obvious.

"No shit," Enoch muttered and Horace elbowed him in the rib.

Millard ignored Enoch and nodded. "And my feet!" He sounded more amazed than concerned.

"Oh dear," Miss peregrine mumbled. "What day is it?"

"Um," Jacob checked his phone before saying, "October 13th, why?"

"Oh this is bad. I completely forgot." Miss peregrine stressed.

"Forgot what?" Emma asked, now concerned.

"Gather all of the others, I'll tell you all over breakfast."

...

By the time everyone got into the kitchen, they all has seemed for realize that something was off.

Hugh hadn't seen his bees all morning, Olive wasn't floating, Claire's back mouth was completely gone, and Bronwyn was having trouble lifting the things she would normally be able to lift.

"What's going on? !" Asked Olive as she took off her metal shoes and didn't start floating.

"Children calm down please," Miss Peregrine set the food on the table and then sat in her seat. "I will explain what's happening but I need you all to stay calm."

There was a chorus of "Yes Miss. Peregrine"s as everyone helped themselves to the food.

Miss. P started explaining. "Every five years on October 13, peculiars lose their peculiar abilities for 24 hours."

"Why?" Asked Millard. "And why hasn't it happened before?"

"It happens so that peculiars don't overwork their abilities. It's never happened before because it only happens after you've been in a loop for a long period of time, but it was always September 3rd in our loop so it never happened before today."

Everyone was quiet until Olive jumped out of her seat, excitedly. "I wanna go to the beach! I don't have for wear my metal shoes so I can go swimming!"

Claire perked up at that. "Can we?"

Soon most of the children were coming up with things to do.

Miss P hushed everyone and then faked a exasperated sigh. "I suppose you can do something fun today and skip the lesson, but finish your breakfast first!"

Everyone continued eating, but now there was much more chatter.

Olive and Claire were trying to convinced Bronwyn to taks them to the beach. Millard, who was rapidly becoming visible, had decided that he wanted to go to a book store, and had begged Hugh to go with him (he said yes of course). Emma and Jacob planned a day of just hanging out together and doing normal teenager stuff. Enoch complained to no one in particular that he had nothing to do so Olive (being the sweetheart she is) invited him to go to the beach, to which he reluctantly agreed.

At some point Miss P turned to Horace and asked what he was going to do because he hasn't said anything.

"I," he replied, motioning to himself grandly, "am going to take a nap, because I haven't had more then 4 hours of sleep all week due to these stupid nightmares."

Olive giggled at his over dramatics (though all of what he said was true).

By the time everyone finished breakfast Millard was completely visible.

Hugh, who was sitting right next to him, grabbed a handful of millards hair and examined it. "I never realized how long your hair is!"

Millard just shrugged. "It's not like there's a barber shop that cuts the hair of invisible people!" He joked.

Emma who was sitting on the other side of Hugh, scrunched up her nose. "It's a dreadful mess, that's what it is!" She exclaimed.

"Oh please, " Millard said, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear, "it's no worse than your hair on a day to day basis, and you can see what you look like!"

Emma gasped. "You take that back!"

"I won't," Millard huffed.

"Children, children! No fighting!" Miss peregrine clapped her hands to get everyone quiet. "Now, considering that it seems all of you already have your day planned out, you can go get ready and then do what you have planned, but no fighting please!"

By the end of the day Millard had gotten his hair brushed and bought six new books, Hugh had got a few new plants for a round the house, Olive and Claire had a wonderful day at the beach and had even gotten Enoch to crack a small grin at one of their jokes while Bronwyn made sure none of them hurt themselves. Emma and Jacob watched some of Jacob's favorite Disney movies and just had a calm afternoon. And Horace got to sleep for the whole day which he was happy about. All in all, everyone was happy that day even though it felt weird to not have their abilities for a while.

#Mphfpc #My writing skills and motivation are at peak around 12am and 12pm #Don't ask why bc idk why either #Literally started writing this at like 12am lol #One shot #Millard Nullings #enoch o'connor #olive elephanta #bronwyn bruntley #jacob portman #emma bloom #Miss Peregrine #Claire #horace somnusson #i had way too much fun with this #Hugh (idk what his last name is)

[philistiniphagottini]

waa,, if it's possible could i request goro akechi with 🥞 for the domestic bliss event?,, it's a pancake i had to /j

tysm in advance 🤧🥰💕💕!!

Thanks for sending in a request for the event. I hope you enjoy it.

cw. fluff, gender neutral reader

Domestic Bliss

You rose in the early hours of the morning to a sweet scent wafting through your open bedroom door. The cloying scent coaxed you awake, the warm rays of sunlight kissing your skin as you peeled your eyes open. Your nose twitched as a hum bubbled up your throat, the sweet aroma already making your mouth bud with saliva. Your stomach suddenly growled and with a weary sigh you hauled yourself from the warm cocoon of blankets to follow the alluring smell. 

You snagged an extra shirt on your way out of your room and slipped into a fluffy pair of slippers to stave off the cold morning chill. You idly rubbed your arms to spark a fraction of warmth back into your body as you lightly shivered, the cold nipping at your face quick to waken your sluggish senses as you trudged your way to the kitchen. When you rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, you weren’t quite expecting the sight you were greeted with. 

Akechi stood in front of the stove, spatula in hand and a frilly, pink apron tied around his waist as he finished flipping the pancakes over. They sizzled softly in the pan as more of the sweet fragrance filled the air and you had to swallow back the drool that dripped from the corner of your lips. You rubbed your hands under your tired eyes, your palms digging in just under the sockets as you wiped away the sleep clinging to the edges of your vision. You observed him for a long moment, simply watching Akechi cook like he was in his natural element in the kitchen. It technically wasn’t far from the truth. Pancakes were his specialty. 

A soft sigh breezed past Akechi’s lips as he suddenly turned his gaze towards you, eyes locking onto your form lingering at the edge of the hallway as you silently watched. 

"You’re not supposed to be up" Akechi said, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. 

You blinked owlishly at him, your defrosting brain trying to process his words as you followed the movement of the spatula hovering over the simmering pan. 

"I’m not?"

A soft chuckle warmed Akechi’s chest as he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips at the confused look tugging at your features.

"No. Because how am I supposed to serve you breakfast in bed if you aren’t in bed?" he mused.

A soft ‘oh’ fell from your parted lips as your head finally caught up. A faint heat dusted your cheeks as you shyly rubbed the nape of your neck, ruffling the baby hairs as the small wisps curled around the tips of your fingers. You suddenly felt a little bashful at Akechi’s heartfelt gesture, your blood singing with elation as your heart swelled with affection. 

"Aww, Akechi, that’s so sweet of you" you whispered softly.

Akechi hummed in response; his warm brown eyes soft when he gazed in your direction. 

"Now, hop back into bed. I’ll be there shortly."

You played with your fingers as you nodded along to his words. "May I have a kiss first?" you inquired. 

"You may."

You eagerly trotted over to him, the sound of your slippers scuffing against the wooden floorboards loud in your otherwise silent apartment as you approached Akechi. He tilted his head to the side, eyes focused on his task as you leaned up on the tips of your toes to place a fleeting kiss on the corner of his mouth. You stepped back, intent on turning away but you were stopped when Akechi looped an arm around your waist and caught you, dragging you right back into his personal space. He turned around to face you now, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair out of your eyes and tucking it behind your ear. 

"You missed" he said with a playful lilt to his voice. 

You half-heartedly rolled your eyes in response before you repeated earlier actions, raising up onto the tips of your toes as you planted a kiss on his lips. Akechi hummed softly in content as you pulled away, tongue poking through the seam of his lips as your taste still lingered on his mouth.

"Much better. Now, run along back to bed."

#my writing #request #follower milestone #persona 5 #goro akechi #goro akechi x reader #akechi x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[devine-fem]

Getting ready with Jondami. Mini fic.

Damian was ready the throw in the towel, there was no way Jon would make him do this for him too. He’s already ironed and washed their clothes - his suit was strictly dry clean only… but now he realizes that Jon’s never tied a tie before and he’d have to do that for him as well precisely after he’d finished sewing back together a bunch of his spare capes.

Jon obviously had no clue how to do it properly because the keeper loop was showing which made Damian want to click his tongue but it was too early to tease Jon, he could save that for later.

“Come here and put your head down,” the shorter boy commanded.

Jon listened. He hunched so the other could get better access to the tie that he’d already formed a knot in.

“I swear you're the only person I know who can’t tie a tie.”

Jon was too distracted by getting to see Damian in formal wear for a second and he forgot what Damian was talking about. When Jon snapped out of his little trance he finally spoke.

“Good morning to you too, Damian.”

“Good morning. Stop fidgeting so I can fix this.”

Damian undid the knot. He pulled the tail over the neck of the tie and made sure the keeper loop was where it was supposed to be.

Jon’s mind wasn't where it was supposed to be. Damian is always going to be Damian, though that's what makes the affection so much better. It gives it value like a “Good job” after a physically taxing superhero mission.

“Can I get a kiss?” Jon finally allowed himself to ask.

Damian looks up with eyes that seem to study Jon more than anything.

“If you fix your hair then maybe.”

That seemed fair but only to Damian. Jon thought about it while Damian brought the wide end of the tie back through the loop and collar. Jon quickly became helpless and he let his thoughts take reign over his body.

Jon placed the easiest of kisses on Damian’s forehead. The tie was yet finished but Damian certainly was.

All that was left was to tighten the knot around Jon’s neck and Damian did but far too fast, way too tight, and with too much spite which was any.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” Jon chocked.

Damian rolled his eyes and tightened properly. Knowing the former gesture made him happy even if he couldn't admit it. Now that justice was served, he couldn't stay mad at Jon anyway.

#jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #supersons #super sons #jonathan kent #fanfic #damijon

[thesweetnessofspring]

Continuation of the Catching Fire wish fulfillment AU I am now calling Katniss Wants Kisses. First drabble here. You can also read on ao3. Now we have the second installment. Rated T.

The next day I’m thrumming as I make it early to training, eager to be near Peeta again. We start off each morning with a run, but I seem to be the only one ready to go. Haymitch has a yellow look to him, still detoxing from all his drinking. Peeta’s out two minutes late, which is unusual for his strict coach-like behavior.

“Come on,” Peeta says to us, fiddling with a fancy Capitol watch that measures time and distance. “We’re going four miles today.”

“Ha!” Haymitch laughs. “Maybe you two are. I’ll go until my legs give out. Which this morning, will be at the end of the street.”

“You’re going to four miles,” Peeta says. “Whether you run, walk, or crawl. I don’t care.”

We set off. Peeta has already marked down the mile loop we take, up out of Victor’s Village and behind the town square before turning round again. I’m always the fastest, but when I turn to look behind me, Peeta’s pace is slower than usual. When we’re done with our four miles, Haymitch has barely made it past his first. Peeta instructs me to work on the strength building portion of our workout and runs after Haymitch, yelling at him to keep going.

When Peeta and a cursing, sour Haymitch do make it to the strength portion of our workout, I notice a stiffness in Peeta that isn’t usually there. The way he moves to bend over or pick up the weights, it’s not with the usual smoothness of his athletic body.

After a hearty lunch my mother cooks up and then showers for all of us, we meet in my living room to review plants–poisonous ones, medicinal ones, ones we can use for food. I know a lot about plants in this area, but the information Peeta’s gathered is much more extensive, pouring into other areas of Panem as well as lab plants the Gamemakers have used in past Games.

Between memorizing the colors and leaves and flowers of dozens of botanicals, I take glimpses of Peeta and notice he’s frequently rubbing at his pec, close to his armpit. And an idea snaps into my head, making me warm with the thought.

As soon as Peeta dismisses us, Haymitch heads out the door. My mother and Prim have gone to see to someone who’s been in the stocks for three days, which means Peeta and I are alone for the first time since before the announcement of the Quell.

He’s finished packing up the cards with the pictures and information of the plants on them when I say, “You’re sore from the push-ups yesterday, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” he says. “Nothing I haven’t been through with wrestling before.”

“Yeah, but this is a little more important than wrestling,” I say. “Come here, let me give you a massage.”

He jumps out of his armchair then, as if I’d suggested I cut off his other leg. I scowl at him while he protests, “No, it’s fine. I’ll just take an ice bath.”

“You’d rather sit in ice water than have me touch you?” I ask, offended. 

“It’s just not necessary to trouble you.”

Oh, but how necessary it felt to me to have him near me again. I still don’t understand why he’s holding back on this.

“I’m offering, which means it isn’t any trouble,” I say, growing more and more irritated. “We’re supposed to be a team, right? Work on this together? So let me help you.”

He hesitates a moment, clutching the stack of plant cards to his chest. But something in him lets him surrender and he says, “Just in front of you on the floor there?”

I nod, popping my legs up on the couch while he sits down in front of me. I don’t know much about massaging, but I can figure it out as I go. Peeta’s tense under my touch, muscles contracted tight, so unusual for him who had once been so free with his affection.

“Relax,” I tell him. “It won’t do any good if you stay stiff like this.”

He takes a breath and at least he isn’t tensed up anymore. I run my hands across his shoulders and find a knot beneath his neck. I work it out with my thumb, gripping the flesh at the top of his shoulder over his shirt as I work my thumb in. I wonder briefly if I could tell him to take his shirt off, but I don’t want to scare him off completely. 

Once that knot is done I seek out others, reveling in getting to feel each bone and muscle and the flesh covering them as I search. The times I get to place my hands on his arm or shoulder to get better leverage on a particular spot, the warmth of him underneath the fabric of his shirt, the clean scent of his shampoo from his shower when my nose skims the top of his head. A couple times when I dig into a sore area he gives a short grunt, and it reverberates into my core. I want to hear him do it again, more, louder, longer. I don’t know how to achieve this, though, when he seems to be holding back.

When I’ve gotten everything I can in his upper back, I slide my hands up and around to his pecs, where I saw him rubbing before. I use the heel of my hands down along the sides of his chest, long and slow,  and that’s when he gives me the loud, long groan and throws his head back into my lap. A pleasure sweeps through me, deep and hungry for more, and I move my hands up to repeat the motion a few more times, then rub my fingers deep into his muscles there, earning me his soft exhale of relief.

I lean down a bit further, crossing my arms around his neck from behind, and kiss him on the cheek. 

At this his eyes snap open and he pushes away from me, turning bright red. “Uh, thanks. I, uh, I have to go.”

“Peeta–”

But he’s already out the door.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble #thg fanfiction #katniss wants kisses #finally figured out what i want to do with this one!

[meenawrites]

So.. I finished Alchemy of Souls

Guys, the amount of tears I just shed in front of my entire family in the last episode of part 2 is crazy.

They were just sitting there like, you good? It's fiction as I'm sobbing my eyes out.

Anyway.

I have many thoughts. So many. And I lowkey want to make a separate post for each of them.

But for now I do want to leave some of my impressions about the finale: (spoilers ahead obviously)

I thought it was pretty well done. I expected to be a bit more shocked about the whole Jin Buyeon is Jin Seol-ran plotline but it honestly made sense to me and I feel like it was actually foreshadowed pretty well for the most part, even in season 1.

Also they definitely got me good with the deaths of Park Jin, Maidservant Kim, and Jin Hogyeong (if that's how you spell her name). Like that's when I started crying tbh. (I could care less about Mama Jin tbh, she sucks, but that deserves its own post). And I'm glad that them actually being alive didn't feel like a cop out to me. They established early on that Jin Seol-ran knew what would happen and used that to their advantage so it was believable and didn't feel like a Deus Ex Machina move for them to be saved. Well, maybe one of them should have died (cough–Mama Jin–cough). But it's fine.

I do feel like the last two episodes were kind of rushed though. I don't know if they had budgeting constraints or if Netflix didn't give them more than ten episodes, but I think that they should have had at least 12. Two more episodes would have allowed for more expansion on the climax and allowed them to up the drama more, which I think would have done well for the series over all, and would have been a better payoff.

I think the time could have been used well to flesh out some of the side characters arcs more. I feel like Danggu and Jin Choyeon were kind of pushed off to the side this season, and especially in the latter half, but I would have liked to see more of them and their relationships not only with each other but with Jang Uk and Naksu/Jin Buyeon.

For all intents and purposes, Naksu/Jin Buyeon lived as Jin Choyeon's sister for three years, and we can see that despite everything that happened three years prior, Choyeon did treat her as her sister even knowing the soul was Naksu's and cared about her. I think that could've and should've been expanded upon, her choosing to care about Naksu/Jin Buyeon or how that came to be. Also, after Naksu regained her memory AND found out Jin Mu had been for sure controlling her at the end of Part 1, I would have loved to see the conversation between her and Choyeon about what she did, an apology and an explanation that she would never have done that if she were sane of mind. What I said about Choyeon applies to Naksu as well because she lived three years as Choyeon's sister, and we can tell she cares about her, so I would have loved to see more of her feelings towards her, especially upon remembering all that had transpired in part 1.

When it comes to Danggu, I mean, he's one of Uk's best friends, and he was left out of the loop a lot when it came to anything Naksu-related. I would have liked him to find out or for Uk to tell him at some point and see how he makes peace with that. Because Danggu and Mudeok were friends in part 1 and he supported her (erroneously) in her supposed romance with Seo Yul. But then she killed his fiance's father and tried to attack him. I can't imagine the sense of betrayal he felt, but also finding out that it wasn't her fault and how he could come to terms with that would have been great to see. I also think his whole experience/trauma from part 1 was kind of glossed over. Like his main thing this season was his broken heart after Choyeon didn't end up marrying him, and I think that was making his feelings a bit too one-dimensional there. They do talk about how he feels slightly uncomfortable/doesn't know what to do with Jang Uk at the beginning of the show, but once Seo Yul comes back, that's kind of forgotten about and the three of them just start hanging out again no problem. I would've like to see a bit more about him struggling with becoming Leader of Songrim as well and how he adapted to that amidst his heartbreak for both his love and his friend who he doesn't even know how to act around anymore, and even towards Naksu/Mudeok who kind of ruined his future and that of his best friend but also being intuitive enough (because he is and he has one of the best hearts we've seen in the show) to realize that there's more to the story than her just going on a murder spree.

I've seen some talk about people saying they didn't like the actress for season 2 as much as season 1 (forgive me, I forgot their names), but I think both brought something good to the table.

Season 1 actress for Mudeok was really good. Her facial expressions were spot on and her chemistry with Lee Jaewook and the other cast members was really good. I think she definitely had great stage presence and made the show popular in the first place. I just don't agree that season 2 actress was worse.

I think season 2 actress definitely put in the work and embodied who Naksu/Jin Buyeon was for the majority of the series. There were times where she made expressions that perfectly resembled/echoed Naksu/Mudeok's that really got me like yes they are the same person even if she doesn't remember. She may have been cuter than we were used to with out sharp-tongued and emotion-resistant Mudeok, but I think Naksu needed that. As Mudeok and before then she didn't have the luxury to be more emotional and girly, it's only now in this body that she does, and I'm glad she had the opportunity to express that side of herself that had never seen the light of day.

We did get a glimpse of that side of her at the end of part 1 where she's playing around with makeup and what might make her look pretty, and it really spoke to all that she had missed out on and had to give up in order to survive. So yeah despite all the angst, I'm glad Naksu/Jin Buyeon had that opportunity through season 2 actress who played it really well while keeping in line with the essence of Naksu/Mudeok.

This whole thing about Naksu being the shadow to Jang Uk's light and if light exists then it needs a shadow broke my heart you guys, it was so perfect. And the fact that they were each other's light and shadow at different points but were also wholly necessary to each other in that was beautiful. I want to talk more about this in a separate post, so I'll table this metaphor for now.

Shout out to Crown Prince Go Won, a great character this whole season in terms of both comedic relief and massive character growth. So good.

Uk's arc was fantastic too but again want to save that for a full post.

Those are my out of order first thoughts about part 2, but I have SO MUCH MORE to discuss, so I will come back for sure. I just needed to scream to the world for a bit (virtually of course).

Question though for all of you more knowledgeable in the k-drama world: is there going to be a season 3?

#alchemy of souls #alchemy of souls part 2 #alchemy of souls light and shadow #Jang Uk #Naksu #Mudeok #Cho Yeong #Jin Buyeon #park dang gu #Seo Yul #jin cho yeon #kdrama #Finale thoughts #Meena's posts

[blithesharem]

Day 5 - 9 Days of Solomon

Day 5: Pact

Solomon finds a new pact mark.

SFW but suggestive, GN Reader

It’s early, but you don’t want to open your eyes to see how early. You’re hoping you’ll have a few hours yet, tangled in bed under fluffy covers and wrapped up in Solomon’s arms. You’re still a bit sore from the night before, but it feels good. Satisfying. You imagine once the two of you are feeling more awake you’ll end up performing an encore, but for now it feels good to just bask in one another’s warmth.

His breathing is steady but he’s awake: his fingertips trace gentle shapes over your back, long looping movements that draw you from sleep slowly. He doesn’t stop until you shift to give a stretch, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. Even then, his hand doesn’t leave you, just moves to run through your hair instead.

Without opening your eyes, you tilt your head, kissing up his jaw until you find his lips. There, you both linger, kisses slow and deep in marked contrast to the hurried, desperate ones from the night before. When you have to break to yawn, his lips move to the palm of your hand, slowly drifting down your arm to the tender dip of your elbow. There, your pact marks are visible, gleaming black “ink” that appeared after your pacts were formed with the brothers.

You smile as you feel him place a kiss on each one, starting with Mammon’s on the inside of your wrist, down the line…

Then you feel him pause, an inhale the only indication he’d noticed something. You peek open an eye, wondering what had caught his attention, and then flushed a hot red.

Oh. That.

“Oh my god. You weren’t supposed to see that,” your groan, making to pull your arm out of his grip so you can cover your face in embarrassment. But instead of releasing you, Solomon tightens his grip, keeping your arm out and extended. He’s not looking at it anymore though, his eyes on yours.

“You did that?” he asks softly, and you can feel how red your cheeks are. His slides his hand down your arm, stopping to run his thumb over the last mark you’ve scrawled yourself. An eighth sigil.

“I just…I wanted you there. It felt wrong not to have you there,” you admitted, and from the way his throat flexes as he swallows, you know Solomon is moved by the gesture. You had completely forgotten it was there, to be honest. You’d drawn it on the morning before, just to see what it looked like with the others.

“Where did you find it?” he asked, still watching your expression.

“A book. From the RAD library,” you admit, and Solomon gives a soft chuckle.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it,” he admits, returning his gaze to the seal that carried his name. After a moment he dips to press his lips to it, finishing the line. 

“Then we’ll need to make one for you,” he murmurs against your skin, and you shiver.

“For me?”

“Both sides of the pact should have marks, shouldn’t they?” Solomon finally releases your arm, rolling to hover over you and steal a kiss that is once again hungry and desperate. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve the dedication of a person like you, but he’s planning on spending the rest of his infinite days earning it.

Notes: My MC's pact marks go up both her wrists to her elbows, the seven split between two arms. Very tender sensitive parts of the body and good for kissing. That's just some free advice.

#obey me solomon #9 days of solomon #9daysofsolomon

[micamicster]

I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You

Have a Bucky scene! This is supposed to be the b-side to whatever much more serious story I was writing in Sam's pov (link to that snippet). As I will probably never finish these please don't take them seriously <3

Also this isn't canon compliant but Marvel isn't real you know

~

Sometimes he thinks Sam is the only good thing about the future. Sometimes he thinks that Sam’s everything good about the future. If there’s a difference between those two thoughts, he doesn’t have any better words for it.

When he’d first met Sam—well, depending on your definition, they’ve had several first meetings. By one definition he’d either ripped his steering wheel out through his windshield, yanked him out of the sky, or tried to put him through a wall face first. Bucky doesn’t really remember those ones. He just has to go off of the (obviously exaggerated and totally unreliable) versions Sam recounts when he decides to seize the opportunity offered by the question ‘how did you two meet?’ and make Bucky squirm.

If Bucky doesn’t remember it, he thinks it doesn’t count. Maybe it’s the first time Sam met him, but the first time he met Sam was during the year Sam and Steve were chasing him.

A year of drawing smaller and smaller circles around them as they sighed and fought and slept and drove and kicked the frozen rocks in the Hindu Kush or the Smokey Mountains, squinting into the sun like it had any clues to give them, anything at all. The first time Bucky met Sam, it had been through a rifle scope.

He’d met him in the air. Watched him from a hundred paces upwind twisting against the blue, soaring, looping around the sun. Sam eating tacos in the passenger side of a jeep, laughing at Steve’s beet red face and playing it off like he wasn’t coughing on the spice himself. Teaching Steve to fist bump, complete with explosion noises. Rumpled and serious over stacks of files in a diner, too late or too early for company. Dark eyes tracking bullet paths from sniper rifles he didn’t place, cautious in the face of Steve’s leaping optimism, watchful where Steve throws a wave or salute, reserving judgment. Sam.

Sam says these don’t count. Meeting someone according to Sam, who is casting himself as an authority on the subject, involves walking up to them, introducing yourself, getting their name, and shaking hands. “Two people gotta be involved! The time you watched me choke on an m&m through my bedroom window and didn’t even intervene, ain’t meeting, Boo Radley. It’s called stalking, and I’m adding it to your rap sheet.” Sam marches over to the poster paper hanging off the bathroom door and scribbles on it.

Bucky follows him, glowering. “By that definition, I’ve never met anybody.”

“By that definition,” Sam mimics. “Man, don’t give me that poor-little-orphan-boy act. What, they didn’t have handshakes in the 30s? Didn’t have names? ‘Never met anybody,’ You’re so full of shit.”

“Never met anybody important,” Bucky concedes, for the sake of the brief moment where Sam blinks at him. Sincerity always catches him off guard. Bucky has to be careful not to overuse this tactic or risk diminishing returns, but it’s worth it for his startled, wide eyes, the barely noticeable hitch in his stream of words.

In that moment of silence he leans over Sam’s shoulder to read the additions to the list. Stalking, and Watched me coughing for a full minute and didn’t break in to give me the heimlich. “I thought you were for prison abolition.”

“I’m not asking for jail time, I’m asking for reparations. I coulda died, man!”

Bucky lets his face go dour and gloomy in response to the teasing, a look that never fails to increase Sam’s enjoyment of a situation.

“Look out, Eeyore,” he says gleefully. “Your face might stick that way.”

“Too late. It froze like this in cryo.”

Sam’s delighted cackle is loud enough to attract Natalia’s attention, and Bucky carefully suppresses his reaction—his face might look blank and intimidating to others, but Tasha can pick out a mockable emotion at a hundred paces.

Her attention is enough to distract Sam, rerouting him into the kitchen where he starts fussing with the coffee pot. Bucky trails after him to hover silently in the doorway like an Eeyore balloon at the Thanksgiving Day Parade, avoiding eye contact with Natalia. She thinks she’s so fucking funny.

Good things about the future: Drunken noodles from Royal Siam with fresh basil and lime, extra spicy the way Sam orders it on movie nights. Losing at spades to Sarah and Cousin Jay, Sam blaming him for their downfall every hand of the game. Cass facetiming him from the kitchen table in Delacroix, history homework all spread out in front of him, both of them ignoring Sam shouting, ‘amnesiac, A-M-N-Something-S-iac, definition ‘he don’t know shit,’  you’re better off trying wikipedia,” from the couch.

“Man, just ask me.” Sam doesn’t bother turning around, but his amusement is palpable in the set of his shoulders, the back of his neck.

He sighs. “Who’s Bo Rad Lee”

The crinkle at the corners of Sam’s eyes, when he wears his smug stupid face. That’s a good thing about the future.

~

#here's to 10 years of HIM! #i need a writing tag if im gonna be posting shit but as yet i remain. uninspired <3 #tagging I GUess. #marvel #bucky barnes #sam wilson #sambucky #ok now that i've posted something and got it off my chest lets all go back to pretending marvel and i have never met <3 thanks <3

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Fifteen: Piano

... Sorry for another sad fic. This one was inspired by Maisie Peters' song 'Two Weeks Ago', which is about a break-up but of course I twisted it into this. Tissues at the ready...

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen

Warnings for: Grieving/Mourning/Loss "Now this songs for you, and it's all I have, and I wish it was two weeks ago." Jeff finds solace in playing Lucille's piano. Tagging: @thunder-tober@skymaiden32@idontknowreallywhy@mrmustachious

Did she know how much he had loved her?

Had he said it enough? Had he shown her enough?

Vows that had been made which had promised forever now seemed meaningless. Naive.

Because forever wasn’t possible. It had never been possible, but he had believed it.

The bubble had been burst, and now he was alone.

He felt that more acutely in the early hours of the day, before the sun had even risen.

The funeral had been yesterday. There had been so many people who had turned up. Some had been family, some had been friends, others had been colleagues and there were a few who had shown their face as a way of supporting the family who had been devastated by tragedy.

He’d heard many voices throughout the day, some he recognised and others that were unfamiliar to him.

“… so tragic…”

“… and with such a young family too…”

Jeff had tried to block them out. He had tried to block it all out. There were five young boys who still needed him, after all. He couldn’t afford to lose it.

But, in those early hours when only he was awake, Jeff allowed himself time to mourn.

It had taken him two weeks to even look in the direction of Lucille’s piano. She had only just started to teach Gordon, as she had once taught the older three. Only Virgil had seemed to inherit her talents, and by how the lessons had been going, Gordon wasn’t going to become a virtuoso like his older brother, but that wasn’t the point.

Gordon would never be able to finish those lessons with her.

Hell, no-one would ever be able to hear her play again.

He sat himself down on the stool, running a hand over the closed fallboard. Only two weeks and yet dust had already begun to gather. He swung the lid open, taking in the sight of the ivory keys. A sob slipped out.

Fingers pressed gently. Middle C.

Then another. D.

Jeff worked his way up the scale, then all the way down to the lowest key.

It rang out hollow, as though it mirrored his soul.

Before he knew it, he was softly playing one of Lucille’s favourite pieces. He was by no means as competent in his playing as she had been, but Jeff knew how to play the basics. Through his teary eyes, he missed a few keys here and there, but continued despite the errors.

A hand rested on his shoulder, a tender touch Jeff almost mistook for Lucille.

His son.

Virgil’s eyes were red and stains down his cheek marked the tears that had recently fallen.

How foolish Jeff had been to play so soon after her passing. How inconsiderate he had been to—

“You’re in the wrong key.” Virgil explained, shuffling into the space on the bench beside his father. “It’s supposed to be played in F Sharp, which are these chords instead.”

Jeff watched his second son’s fingers glide over ivory with expert precision and for a second, he didn’t see Virgil.

He had been trying his hardest to not break-down in front of his boys but, in that moment, the dam burst and Jeff couldn’t help it. Virgil stopped playing and looped one arm around his father’s shoulders. They sat for a while, sobbing and remembering and wishing they could reverse time. Two weeks ago wasn’t that far. Two weeks ago was nothing in the grand scope of the universe. And yet, two weeks ago might as well have been two centuries ago.

In the following months, seeing the piano became easier. Jeff encouraged Virgil to play, especially when Alan was having difficulty getting to sleep. 

The more it was used, the less painful it became. 

The more it was used, the more if felt like Lucille was still with them.

The more it was used, the easier the grieving became.

#thundertober 2023 #thunderbirds fanfiction #five fics #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #thunderbirds are go

[dislyteshack]

Another day another slaying

Inch of Time chapter 3 came out today!!!

Gods, everything burned. He needed time to recover.

Rolling to his side it was an effort to even get out of bed.

When checking the clock, Chu Yao noticed he'd gotten up earlier than he should have. It was 2 am.

More time to figure out the loops, he supposed.

He skipped the tea this morning, it was too early either way and… The memory of his previous death was sorely fresh. He instead opted for an early shower.

He mused, where he bathed was an obvious way for his killer to end him. But one of the few patterns he noticed was they'd often wait until the end of the day to strike.

… Clearly this would be going nowhere without outside help and yet… Who could he turn to? He was a man of many friends and many followers, but few true allies.

Even someone like Chu Yao claiming to be trapped in a time loop would come off as lunacy… Unless…

He gritted his teeth at the thought.

Why would he need to demean himself by seeking her aid?

Perish the thought, it need not happen. He focused on the running of water instead rather than the idea before.

‘But it does, doesn't it?’

His subconscious told him as he attempted to cleanse himself of his impurities, parts of them clinging to his skin even as the intensity of his cleaning rose.

‘Doing the same set of actions over and over, it leads to insanity, does it not?’

… It does. Even now he felt the burn of his vices, no matter how hard he claimed none gripped his soul.

After all these years, would Raven even offer him aid? Of course she would; She was a good person. One of loyalty, even at opposing ends.

Chu Yao still scoffs at the idea of her offer to join the union. Her willingness to go through and overcome every obstacle, explore every possible outcome; and still offer an olive branch all so they could attempt to reforge whatever relationship they had left.

Yes… Her compassion had never changed over the years he had known her, and he had once feared that that stubbornness would one day be detrimental to her.

And now, he was the first one to offer up communication, much to his admitted dismay.

He pondered, slowly rising from the bath to eventually finish. Though the raid was costly it would undoubtedly provide an opportunity.

With that same intensity there was one last attempt to rinse the stench of defeat from himself. A decision was made.

He'd had to waste at most five today's to figure out where she was. Anytime he spotted Raven it always seemed like she was in a different location than when he last observed her.

Today was different, when first approaching Odin's chosen he was met with one of her mutts. He was positive the beast had gotten larger than when he had seen it prior- and it was as happy to see him as he was to see it once more. Which, given the bared fangs of the creature, wasn’t very much at all.

“Impressive, this was one of the outcomes I wasn't expecting.” Raven observed him, hand placed between the wolf’s ears and causing its snarling to cease. Its judgemental stare still bore into him.

So it would seem then, he stayed silent.

Maybe it was out of pride, a way for him to regain what he'd already lost from having to seek out help this way. Or perhaps he was unable to think of a response, when usually there were always words Chu Yao could say to sway any conversation in his favour. Not here, however. Only a burning level of indignation that he had to stoop to this level.

Here they were both equal knights on a chessboard rather than any one of them controlling the pieces.

“... If you're looking to talk, don't you think a raid isn't the best place?”

He gazed around, did she think he was foolish enough to remain speaking with her in this environment?

“I would agree, I'd be willing to talk at 7 if you would indulge me.”

“As long as it's partially on my terms, back here then?”

If it being on for your terms is what you believe will help then, he thought bitterly

“As you wish.”

When he'd agreed to meet in that same location, Chu Yao had to admit he was almost expecting a trap of sorts.

Raven may have been a suspect he was saving for last, but a suspect no less.

The only problem… Her powers held no sway over time. She could only view a series of events passively, not tear someone back from their death to the dawn of the same day.

“Now this is what I expected. What Is this situation of yours?”

He explained it to her as candidly as he could. No matter what details there were, he never left them out. He was blunt with them. Although Chu Yao left out the wonton torture of his subordinate, as that part was wholly unnecessary information in this predicament.

“It was only after their questioning, did they reveal I'd suspected the wrong person. All I ask is for my future, if this repeating day is all there will ever be to it.”

Raven's expression was cool, perhaps it was just because she predicted what he would say. Or just because she was always understanding, that compassion of hers.

She briefly closed her eye and not too long later she began to speak.

“It won't be all there ever is,

One day will eventually turn to the next.

But one constant in this future?

As long as you give up control, the next day will come.”

As long as he gave up control? He recalled a handful of her prior prophecies, although they were never as vague as this.

“Is that all?”

“Has something I’ve said upset you?”

She had reason to conceal information, yes, but-

“That can’t be all. What are you hiding?”

“Mm, you don’t think what I’ve given you is valuable information?” Raven asked, patient despite the man’s haughty assertion. “I need to keep my cards close to my chest just as you do yours.”

Chu Yao remained silent, his displeasure visible but fully aware pushing would only serve to impede his efforts.

“If you’re done pouting, may I continue?”

He responded with continued silence, an unspoken yes.

“Surrender is your only option; Only you can break this cycle.

Expect even the most unexpected betrayals,

Don't fall for easy traps as you did recently.”

"Recently you say? Are you suggesting this is a trap?”

"Is that your only conclusion? I’m working with what information you’ve provided me with. It’s your duty to use what I’ve given you to free yourself from this web- only you can.”

Oh, even if she doesn't have the divine power to do so the connections are there…

“Not my assassin, not whoever has put this into motion. Me, you say? I’m close to guessing you’re just poking fun at me now.”

When reopening her eye, Raven only sighed- almost scoffed, even.

“Believe me when I say I only wish to help you.”

He’ll do just this once then, Chu Yao would know how to find her eventually. For all her foresight, she won't remember the next today.

He was ready that night as he returned from that meeting. Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement through his office window, almost entirely concealed in the darkness.

This time he was the one to strike first.

He used a spell to transport himself instantaneously into his office before putting his fate in it’s hands the moment he swung with his dagger-

It pierced an intruder’s shoulder successfully-

A light gasp escaped and before the second swing-

Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement through his office window, almost entirely concealed in the darkness.

This time he was the one to strike-

… He hadn’t even died yet!? How-

It doesn't matter now as he burst through the door and swung at the hooded figure in the room-

Chu Yao noticed a hint of movement—-

…. This was the case of divine power. He could feel it the closer he was to his office.

Rather than swinging he went for the hood the figure had and underneath-

It was just what looked like a esper he couldn't recognize, brown hair and glowing golden orbs as some kind of imitation for eyes. Nothing else they wore would have suggested that they were the one killing him all these times. It was all stays and layers of petticoats.

"Sorry - I took personal offence to last today, so they're letting me get a kill in this time.” Even unmasked, they seemed entirely unperturbed by Chu Yao’s discovery of them. “I just wanted to know what it's like to act instead of directing from the sidelines.”

“Who?-”

They paused for a moment as if a polite introduction would change the tone of the interaction.

“Aion’s Protege, no need to know any info beyond that.”

From their skirt pockets a glint of light flickered as they produced an item.

A crossbow-

“Or well… Esper.”

He dodged this time, he wouldn't allow himself to be bested once again by them. More so now that he'd just unmasked his assassin.

The steel arrow lodged itself deeply into one of the back walls of the office, displaying just how much power this compact crossbow was actually packing. Barely a moment to register the lining up of another shot, narrowly avoiding another barrage as adrenaline kept his feet moving.

This dance of attempted shots and swings eventually ended when he struck once in their side—

He didn't need to notice whatever was in the window he just burst in and ripped off the mask-

“I didn't appreciate that, you know.”

He didn't care.

“Why accept then-” through attempted shots the thought slipped out. Even if they were hired there had to be a reason.

This time he aimed for the throat-

He's struck for once in the chest barely missing his vitals. Despite the sloppy aim of the intruder, whatever looping abilities the esper had was working only in their favour.

"Oh, you're right! I have no reason to go after you, you should ask my benefactor about their reasons to hire me-”

Again another arrow pierces flesh and bone through his stomach, possibly cracking the spine. That one caused him to fall over and lose his balance.

They quickly approach him just to pull out the arrows with efficiency courtesy of their own power. As soon as the piercing instruments were removed the wounds opened up, blood freely spilling the punctures over his body. The sharp tips scraping fresh lacerations over his flesh and through internal organs.

The final ammunition lodged in his chest seemed… Fond of its location, and as the assailant yanked at the shaft it caught on bone and Chu Yao raised slightly off of the ground with it.

“Oh, sorry.” Both the arrow and Chu Yao fell back to the ground when it didn’t give way, the ‘apology’ frankly being more hurtful than the removal attempt.

They grabbed hold of the arrow with both hands, heel on Chu Yao’s chest to keep him on the floor and pulled with all their might.

It caused some additional cracks in some bones and the arrowhead came out with some additional scraps of flesh, but it was out!

Oh yes. He was *so* overjoyed at their success. Perhaps this was the most embarrassing death so far.

They did seem to be pleased with the outcome, with how they begin to muse of a different topic as if one of them wasn't currently bleeding out

“I knew the Seven had wealth, but I never thought much about it til I got my first Nexus crystals.”

Blood continued to pool uninhibited again, Chu Yao could swear something in him was paralyzed when the vice grip he had previously on his dagger loosened.

“You’re really good at staying alive, I have to admit-“ they commented, leaning down. “Like a cockroach…”

Were they… Bored?

“All right, we're ending this. Have my debriefing and all that boring crap to do after this.”

He feels hands on the side of his head for a moment, he’s raised for easier access to his neck and before Chu Yao could look -

-SNAP-

#dislyte #dislyte chu yao #raven dislyte #dislyte fanfic #fanfiction

[jazzythursday]

Hi!

Your writing is so beautiful! Your characterizations of Wylan and Jesper are incredible in your oneshots and especially in Everyday, Just a Little or a Little Bit. Seriously, I think about that fic all the time. It's perfect. Sweet and angsty, domestic and wholesome. Are you interested in writing more for Wesper? Do you have any more ideas or WIPs that you'd like to write?

-sixofcrowdaydreams

I’m crying? This is incredibly sweet thank you so much 🥹💖

Wesper and the crows literally got me through the last year and are still my main source of serotonin atm so I promise I’m not even close to done writing about them yet!

I also think about Everyday… every day lol, I really do. I have a handful of offshoots and bonus scenes from that fic I still want to write/finish (Jesper’s pov of a few moments, his talk with Nina after Wylan leaves in ch3, so much with the bookseller from ch1 etc), along with a few wips and a giant list of ideas I haven’t even started.

Currently I’m working on my gift for an exchange we have going over on the @i-can-read-to-him server (which is becoming both incredibly stressful but also so so exciting with every scene I write) I wish I could talk about it but it’s a surprise™️ for the moment. It will hopefully be ready to start posting next week!

Until then, here's a snippet from one of the bonus scenes in Everyday. It's from the part in ch2 where Jesper comes back to the Slat after being jumped by debt collectors. (Fun fact: the original scene was supposed to be this version, but when I actually went to write it it was feeling too clunky with the rest of the chapter, so I changed it to the posted version)

Wylan wakes up alone one morning. 

He knows, immediately, that something is wrong. The only disturbance of the covers has been made by himself; the other side of the bed is untouched, except for where his hand had landed on Jesper's pillow during the night. The rest is left unruffled and empty.

He hadn’t come back.  Jesper had been sent on a job the night before that hadn’t needed a demo man. Wylan told him he’d wait up, and Jesper told him he didn’t need to. Wylan had planned to wait up anyway. 

Apparently, it hadn’t worked. Wylan does not remember falling asleep, and yet it’s undeniably morning now. Still early enough that the sun isn’t quite peeking through the curtains, but he can tell it will soon.

He tries not to get worked up. He gets worked up anyway. No matter how much he tries to rationalise it, there is a deep pit growing in his stomach, convincing him that something is very wrong. He gets out of bed and leaves the room. He doesn’t bother with boots, just creeps down the hall in his socks.  It doesn’t take long to hear voices. They filter out from Kaz’s office, freezing Wylan in place.  “You still might need a medik,” he hears—Nina’s voice. She sounds tired. “How many times do I have to tell you two I wasn’t trained for proper healing?” 

“You're doing fine.” Jesper. Jesper’s voice. He sounds… dim is the only way Wylan can think to describe it. Tinny. Like the rich, mellow timbre of his words have been syphoned off into something thinner. He coughs wetly. “Gold stars all around Neens, really.” 

“I’m not above knocking you out, you know,” Nina says, but even without being in the room he can tell there’s no real threat in it. It’s soft, fond, and concerned.

Wylan’s heart feels like it’s detached from his chest. Like it’s somewhere else entirely, and wherever that is, someones squeezing it very tightly. He walks closer, almost hovering outside the threshold. He places a hand on the knob. 

It’s been a very long time since Wylan has felt out of place with the Crows, but as he opens the office door, he cannot help but feel—not unwelcome, but uninvited, and left out of the loop.

Unnecessary, his mind supplies, and he tries very, very hard not to give it a chance to amend, worthless. 

He balls up the cuffs of his shirt—it’s one of Jesper’s, though Wylan can’t remember when he’d taken it up as his own. Long enough that it doesn’t smell like Jesper anymore, just Wylan, which is a tragedy—and casts a look around the room, feeling awkward and out of place and comparatively underdressed in only his sleep clothes and socks. 

Kaz looks as he always does, except worse. His hair is falling uncharacteristically messy over his face. He turns sharply from where he’d been facing the window when Wylan enters, eyes even darker than usual.

Nina looks worried, a deep weighty frown on her face as her hands press against Jesper’s abdomen. 

And Jesper looks— 

“What happened?” Wylan balks.  Everyone is staring at him now, and Wylan hates it, hates this, but it all pales in comparison to the awful feeling tearing itself through his chest at the sight of Jesper, Jesper’s face—

“Jes—” Wylan’s voice breaks.  

“I’m fine,” Jesper assures quickly. Nina scoffs. She takes her hands away from Jesper’s stomach to cross them over her chest. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine!”

“You’ll be fine when I say you’ll be fine,” Nina mutters.  

Jesper tries to smile at Wylan, tries to give him a surreptitious thumbs up with the hand farthest from Nina, tries to wink of all things. It doesn’t make Wylan feel any better. It also looks like it hurts, because both Jesper’s eyes are puffy and red, and the side of his face sports an angry mark that’s still bleeding sluggishly from his eyebrow. His jaw looks sort of swollen too, and he grimaces at his own smile, so it must hurt.

Looking at it makes Wylan want to cry, so instead he looks at Kaz. 

“What happened?” he asks again, very quietly. 

“Debt collectors. And an idiot.”

“Kaz!” Jesper protests. Kaz shoots him a glare that pierces slightly duller than usual, which makes Wylan worry even more. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Jesper tries again. 

Wylan doesn’t respond. He keeps looking at Kaz. 

Kaz sighs. He sweeps his hair back in its usual style and pushes up from the window. “He’ll be fine. It’s not good, but nothing with debt collectors ever is. I’m working on it.”

This ask was such a lovely thing to read on a very tough day, so again, ty 🥰

#wesper #shadow and bone #six of crows #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #jazzy writes fanfic #jazzy writes #wesper fanfiction