#and then she taught me to do it for myself.

[cuntlips42]

jj maybank x bsf!reader *·˚

trying to relax on a 100 degree day in kildare is just about as hard as it sounds. the air is thick and humid in your lungs as you inhale, and the slippery slope of your back dribbles with sweat, soaking through your top and making it stick uncomfortably close to your skin. the sky is roamed by huge flies flitting erratically, bumping into your body and every so often, flying into your eyes and nose searching for moisture. annoyingly, each of your frustrated swats are doing absolutely nothing to deter them.

you’re attention gets grabbed by a small commotion coming from a table a few feet in front of you. a group of 3 kook girls sitting together, one now standing, moaning and groaning about how her now, iced tea-stained shirt, is ruined and 'absolutely unsalvageable'. her two just as kooky friends sit pliantly at the sticky white outdoor table, watching in disdain, sending derogatory glares to the young waitress.

you've seen her before - she's a pogue girl who lives a few houses down from you and has been in a few of your classes over the years. she also works at the wreck with kie, apparently unluckily for her.

she's a sweet girl. jess? wait no, joana?

j...something flutters hurriedly around the table with her mouth agape, attempting to somehow mend her collision with the customer that ended up with the kook girl covered in peach iced tea. you can't help but feel bad for the waitress, sure the kook is now sticky and probably a little gross, but it was obviously an accident, and from the way she's blabbering on, you'd think the girl just shot her puppy or something.

"oh god! i'm so, so, so sorry! here, let me-let me help you!" the waitress reaches for the cloth she placed on the table where the 3 girls are sat, before turning back to the kook and attempting to wipe off the excess drink that is now dripping from just about every surface on the top half of the girl's body. before the fabric can touch her, the kook slaps the cloth out of the girl’s hand.

"don't fuckin' touch me with that dirty rag! jesus christ - what is wrong with you? are you fucked in the head?" she scoffs slightly, ringing out her skirt before turning her head back to the two girls who sit quietly behind her "all those fucking dirty pogue diseases must've finally gone to your brain if you think i’m letting you come anywhere near me. clean this up before i step on glass and cut myself."

the girls behind her laugh loudly at her comment, and the pogue seems as if she’s on the verge of tears, probably from a mix of embarrassment and plain offense. sympathy claws at your throat as you watch the girl swallow and lean down to pick up the shards of glass from the smashed drink. you draw your eyes to the window of the wreck, eyeing your friends laughing joyously from a table inside. you were only supposed to duck out for a minute to answer a phone call from your mom - leaving the rest of the pogues sat inside feasting on whatever kie managed to convince her dad to feed you. you don’t usually get involved in altercations with kooks - being taught from a very young age that that is a fight you rarely ever win, but watching the girl half-hazardly scoop shards of glass into the cloth she once had thrown over her shoulder, you find your feet dragging you towards the scene.

as you reach down and start helping the girl shovel glass into the rag, her head snaps to you with a momentarily shocked expression, before giving you a soft, watery smile in recognition that you tried to return. you couldn’t help but feel bad for the girl - it was obvious that she found this whole situation mortifying, and in particular kook fashion, the girl just had to make it a bigger deal then it was.

the door to the wreck flies open, kiara tumbling through the door, apron still wrapped around her waist despite her shift ending an hour ago. she looks to where you were once perched against the wall, eyebrows furrowing when her eyes zero in on you and the girl knelt gingerly beside you, calling out your name in questioning “-julie? you guys okay?”

julie…..right.

“yeah –  we’re ok! just broken glass.” julie croaks out in response. you turn back to your friend, raising your palm above your brows to shield your eyes from the afternoon sun, trying your best to give her a look that somehow translates to ‘not really all good- might need help’. her eyes widen a millimetre, before she looks over your shoulder, lips pressed together in slight concern at the sight of the kooks.

“do you mind getting us a broom?” you ask simply, voice soft yet carrying.

kiara glances back over your shoulder again, seemingly debating leaving you alone, before giving you a short nod in response and swiftly turning and running back into the restaurant. for a moment you forgot about them, but the kooks manage to make themselves known, laughing between themselves, legs kicked up onto the table, muttering about how "the rats obviously stick together" and giggling and gasping afterwards like the girl who said it was an original comedic genius.

jesus.

involuntarily, you choke out a scoff, attention still drawn to the shards of glass splayed along the ground.

“something funny, pogue?” you stiffen slightly, eyes flitting back up to the table, meeting the gaze of the blonde, slightly less iced tea soaked girl who’s glaring at you, one eyebrow cocked and a freshly manicured fingernail tapping against the tabletop. she says nothing, waiting for a response from you.

you spare a glance at the girl beside you, her head down and hands shaking slightly as tears well up in her eyes, and your heart breaks slightly. not wanting to accelerate things, you mutter out a soft “no”, the word tasting sour on your tongue, but you know better than to initiate a fight with a kook. plus- you’re main focus is just getting julie away from these crazies. she definitely deserves a break after this.

seemingly satisfied with your answer, the girl responds curtly “clean up the mess and then go away and get me a new drink.” she spits, eyes tearing away from yours to glare at the girl next to you. “it’s bad enough this idiot poured the first one all over me.”

your brows furrow in disbelief and words start tumbling out your mouth, against your better judgement, “jesus- do you have to be so rude all the time? it was obviously an accident, and she’s already apologised.” you crawl to your feet, standing level with the girl leaning against the table. the kook’s eyes narrow, nostril’s flaring in anger.

oh fuck.

her voice is loud and high pitched when she starts speaking again, stomping towards you, causing you to step back. “who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?”

the loud commotion draws the attention of some customers in the wreck- your friends included. you see them push through the door in the corner of your eye, kie in tow with a broom in hand, before they come to stand behind you supportively, ready to step in if necessary. john b’s eyebrows are furrowed, obviously confused by the situation and how you, of all people, managed to end up in it, pope is seemingly already stressed, hands splayed on his head above his ‘heywards’ cap, and jj has his hands in his pockets and a smirk playing at his lips. of fucking course.

the kook steps towards you again, getting in your face. julie stumbles sideways at the movement, still knelt down in an attempt to make herself small.

a sickening smirk graces the girls features, a lightbulb practically lighting up above her head, making your stomach twist. she grasps a strand of your hair between her hands, and you swallow before your yanking your body out of her touch.

jesus, pull it together.

the kook spares a glance to the gathering crowd behind you, smirk widening before she turns back to you “i don’t know why you think you can talk to me like that you know, - i’ve heard about you.. where you come from.. and i’m not talking about the cut.” your brows furrow in confusion – what is she talking about?

“i've heard that your mommy.. used to have a lot of fun back in the day" she cuts herself off with a malicious giggle, looking briefly over your shoulder to the 3 boys stood a few feet behind you. your teeth grit at the obvious implication. “guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree” she turns behind her to meet the chuckles of the two girls sat behind her. your face heats in embarrassment, and you feel your body light up with anger. how dare she?

when the girl turns back to face you, probably to utter another 'clever' remark, her face instead meets your fist.

she yelps pathetically, falling to the ground, hands instantly covering her face. gasps sound out from behind you, as well as a few whoops and hollers from what you're guessing are your friends. the 2 girls quickly jump to their feet, rushing over to the girl now rolling on the ground in pain, cupping her nose, crying and mumbling about how you’re a “crazy fucking pogue!”

pain stings through your knuckles, travelling through your veins to the base of your hand, your mouth agape a silent groan. holy shit that hurt!

it’s pretty much common knowledge that getting punched in the face would hurt, but nobody ever talks about how much it hurts punching someone in the face – and they definitely should, it would’ve impacted your decision.

the girls start frantically screaming, begging someone to help their friend amongst cries of how psycho you are. your feet are stuck in place and you're holding your wrist in the other hand, mouth agape in pain, when someone suddenly wraps their arms around your waist, yanking you in the air and chucking you over his shoulder, pulling you away from the scene as the bloody-nosed kook stands to her feet and starts screaming along with the other girls. “aaalright i think that’s enough for you girly - time to flee!” a goofy smile graces your face despite yourself at the sound of the familiar voice, and you start giggling in realisation of the fact that you just punched someone in the face – and god did it feel fucking good.

you get carried to the twinkie, bouncing over jj’s shoulder watching in awe as your friends bound away from the scene you inadvertently caused. the blonde boy quickly yanks you back over his shoulder, sitting you messily in the back of the van, before john b starts quickly speeding away from the wreck in response to the ‘go go go go’ echoing from the backseat. kie’s the first to speak, turning her body to take in your smile and already bruising knuckles incredulously from the passenger seat besides john b. “what the fuck? i can’t believe you just did that.” at the sight of your cheeky grin, her own lips curve up and her eyes crinkle at the force. “you really need to stop hanging around jj- he’s obviously a bad influence.” she looks to the boy next to you, giving him a fake glare. he just flips her off, making her roll her eyes and turn back to face the road.

you gulp, eyes wide “was it really that bad?” you begin to feel a little guilty, looking around the group for a response.

the aforementioned boy only throws his arm around your shoulder from his seat beside yours, a proud aura radiating off of him. “nah- you’re good, baby. she deserved that shit. you’re like our very own lil’ boxer” he playfully starts squaring up, fists raised, making you laugh and knock his shoulder with your own.

“i think i’m all punched out, actually. nobody told me it hurts so bad.” you wince, looking down at your knuckles and flexing them slowly, making pain spread out throughout your palm.

“well you basically slam chunks of cartilage and bone with your fist, it’s going to hurt like hell. plus, it looks like you hit her pretty hard. her nose was bleeding- i actually think you broke it.” pope offers, his gaze soft in attempt to comfort you from his seat across from you and jj.

you look up at him in shock, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline and you exhale quickly “hopefully she doesn’t try and hunt me down or somethin’ - i am not paying for her nose job.” jj chuckles besides you, grabbing your sore hand to look over your knuckles.

“you’ll be fine, babe- especially with that fiery right hook of yours, damn.” you feel your cheeks heat a touch at the pet name- it’s not unusual, and yet it still makes your lashes flutter and your chest tighten.

“yeah. besides, she should be grateful, she needed a nose job anyway. now she’s got an excuse.” john b mumbles from the driver’s seat, eyes still trained on the road. kie gasps in disbelief, hitting him in the shoulder. pope snorts, causing the brunette to break, smiling widely at the boy in the driver’s seat. john b smiles smugly, clearly proud of his comment, before using his fingers to mime out a large nose near his face, earning another shove from kiara, before shooting you a wink in the rearview mirror. you can’t help but laugh happily, subconsciously leaning into jj’s side as he strokes his fingers over your sore knuckles.

please send asks! id love to chat w you!! *·˚

[captainlunaxmen]

Dragon's Healer

Chapter 3

Daemyra x female!reader

Dark!Aemond x fem!reader

This chapter is shorter, mostly in preparation for the next one... which is going to be hard...

Chapter summary: Viserys' death creates more plots than expected

Chapter wantings: none in particular, maybe being locked, threat of forced marriage.

Tag list

@k1ttybean

@tojisrealwifey

@sinarainbows

I walk quickly to my chambers, I can't help the feeling of being watched, the way Aemond talked to me was anything but sweet. Almost terrifying.

I close the door as quietly as possible, hoping to finally get some proper rest, I couldn't even leave with Rhaenyra and Daemon, I did promise Alicent to stay with her.

"Why being so sneaky, my love?" Daemon's voice startles me.

"Shit!" I exclaim and put my hand to my chest to calm my heartbeat.

"Hey..." he says softly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I say immediately, "nothing, where's Rhaenyra?"

"She fell asleep... a lot happened today." He walks closer, "love, is something wrong?"

"No, of course not." I chuckle.

"What did he say to you?" He asks, turning serious.

"Nothing, my love." I say, not meeting his eyes, focusing more on my dress, eager to just take it off and get some sleep.

I can sense him considering me for a moment before he stops my movement, gently making me turn to look at him.

"You're not staying here." He firmly tells me, I let out a deep sigh, turning away from him again.

"I promised Alicent." I say, sitting to take off my shoes.

"Like I give a fuck about that bitch." He scoffs, "you're not staying here."

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much." I snap back, catching myself remembering Rhaenyra's sleeping not far from where we are, I lower my voice, "I can handle whatever crush he might think he has."

"Oh... so I was right, wasn't I?" He smirks, but the clench in his jaw tells me his demeanor is far from playful.

"Yes, fine... you were right." I wave him off, "but it's simply a crush, Daemon, I can handle it."

"Well, I'm not comfortable with you staying here on your own." He says firmly.

"Gods, Daemon!" I whisper yell at him, standing to face him properly, "I'm not a child anymore."

"Exactly." He says, softly. "You're a woman. You're my woman, and it's my duty to protect you."

"I don't need protection here, Daemon." I take his hands, "you taught me how to defend myself, do you not trust your own teaching?" I tease him, to ease his nerves.

"Oh, I trust them very much, I simply don't trust the snakes inhabiting this castle." He makes me hug him, so our faces are closer.

"I know, my love, but I gave my word." I say firmly, "I'm staying. Stop worrying."

He sighs, he kisses me then looks mw dead in the eyes.

"If I hear... that something happened... I will burn each one on them. You hear me?" He tells me.

"I do." I give his lips a peck, "I know you will."

--------------

I managed to sneak into my chambers before someone could notice me sounding the night with the Princess and her husband. We said our goodbyes before they left too.

I also managed to get some more sleep before a bad feeling woke me up suddenly.

I decide to just sit by the window and take some time to think. I feel like something wrong, but I can't seem to put a finger on it.

It could be the conversation with Aemond yesterday, but it doesn't seem to be all.

There's some tension in the air too, I look out the window, down to the stairs, there's no one. It's empty.

My eyes catch movement, I quickly look up noticing I can see Rhaenys' chamber from mine. She too is looking out and she too looks tense.

We lock eyes. There's some warning in hers, she even motions me to look down, to pay attention. Like on cue, people start to walk down those stairs, taken somewhere by the guards.

I look up at Rhaenys again.

"Check your doors." She tells me, a sense of dread invades my body as I immediately rush to the doors. I try to open them.

Locked.

I rush back to the window.

"Locked." I tell her, "what's going on?"

"I have my theories... and I think you'll agree." She says, with heavy tone.

I nod and look down one last time, and when I notice Rhaenys is not there anymore I go back to the doors, giving it another shot at opening them.

I push and pull with all my strength, but unfortunately it definitely, definitely locked.

"Fuck." I curse. I go to my own luggage and look through my things. I must have something to help me open the doors.

Something must've happened to the king. It's the only explanation I can think of. But those people being moved somewhere... something worse is happening.

I stop my movements as I hear the doors opening. Finally.

I turn around, my eyes landing on Alicent, and her look is enough to explain everything to me.

"Lady Y/n." She says, I can hear the grief in her voice.

"Your highness..." I nod, "don't tell me."

"I'm afraid I can't accommodate you." She says, she tries to keep a strong appearance as she gets closer, taking my hands, "lady Y/n, I have a favour to ask."

I see her desperation, I squeeze her hands to reassure her.

"Anything." I say softly.

"I... I'm..." she stutters, "I'm here to ask your support."

"My... support?" I ask, the dreadful sensation is back, so I retreat my hands.

"Your support for Aegon's claim to the throne." She finally says.

"Aegon..? What... what are you talking about?" I say putting distance between us.

"Y/n, please..."

"No." I shake my head, "what..?"

"It was Viserys' wish." Alicent states.

I look at her, shocked, I don't believe her words. It can't be.

"I don't believe you." I say.

"It's true." She insists, walking to me, forcefully grabbing my hands, "please, you have-"

"I don't have to do anything." I grit out, "you want to usurp Rhaenyra's birthright. Are you listening to yourself? That's your father's idea, isn't it?"

"Y/n, in memory of our past friendship, I'm asking you for help." She squeezes my hands, almost scared I could run away, "your marriage to Aemond wou-"

"What?! Marriage?" I finally get my hands free from her grasp and once again distance myself, "I'm not marrying your son. And especially, I'm not supporting an usurper."

Alicent collects herself, takes a deep breath and fixes her dress.

"I'm..." she clears her throat, "I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come to this, but you leave me no choice."

I look at her confused, not having the faintest idea of what's going through her mind.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, putting myself on guard.

"The wedding will take place after Aegon's coronation, I'm sure we could find a dress that will fit you." She says, emotionless. I scoff, loudly.

"Why are you so adamant to make me marry your son?" I ask, "is this a way to make your children love you?"

"It's a good way to show your support in front of the people." She explains.

"I will not be used to support, basically, a robbery." I say, walking to stand in front of her, "I'm not a pawn in your conspiracy."

"You leave me no choice, Y/n." She whispers, forcing herself to move back to the door.

"You always had a choice, Alicent." I tell her before she exit the room. Having it locked. I could hear her say something to a guard, probably to stay put and not letting me leave.

"Fuck." I curse as I pace around the room, trying to find a solution, and maybe not to panic. I want to hit myself for not listening to my bad feelings about Aemond, and for not leaving with Rhaenyra.

--------------

I don't know exactly how long it's been since I've been locked in my chambers, I haven't seen Rhaenys either at the window, I don't if she was let out or not.

Maybe the moment they let me out for the wedding I can take the chance and run. Unlikely. Too many guards. Also, I can't wait that long.

I look out the window for the millionth time probably, and it's still to high for me to jump.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I mutter under my breath, "why haven't the gods gifted me with wings?"

It's dark outside, if I manage to get out I could easily escape, but I need to exit this room first.

"Fuck!"

Before I can start to panic again, the commotion from outside my chambers startles me. I move closer to the doors, cautiously, to get a glimpse of what might be happening when suddenly the door opens and one of the twins of the King's guard enters, cloak in hand.

"Come, lady Y/n. We don't have much time." He tells me handing me the cloak, I take it confused.

"What... what's going on?" I ask, and in that moment Rhaenys comes into my view.

"Ser Erryk is helping us." She says.

I nod and put the cloak on and follow them out, noticing as I walk out the passed out guard near the doors.

--------------

Morning comes rather quickly as we walk through King's Landing.

"I won't leave Meleys" the Princess declares, "if I could get to the Dragon pit, then..."

"No." Erryk is quick to shut her plan down, "they'll expect you there, princess. You won't get past the gates."

"He's right." I agree, "he's right, and we can't risk losing you like this. Meleys knows you're not abandoning her, and they won't lay a hand on her for sure."

She looks at me, sadness filling her eyes. I can't understand the bond between a dragon and its rider, but I can understand it's strong. I gently take her arm and lead her with Ser Erryk, letting her squeeze me to get some comfort.

"Come, you must make for the riverfront and find a ship. Before they know you've gone." Erryk explains and I nod my head in understanding.

As we walk through the stroll of the city we hear guards screaming, ordering people to move. A sea of people almost surrounding us, we try to find another way, Erryk takes our hands to safely lead us away, but the amount of people pushing and walking separate us.

"Stay close to me." Rhaenys tells me, grabbing my arm painfully tighter. I don't intend on losing her here among the people so I ignore the pain. I try to look back and see if I can catch a glimpse of the Knight, but he's too far and too stuck to get to us.

We have no choice but to follow the people.

"Where are we going?" I ask and Rhaneys looks up and around.

"Dragon pit." She says, I looked at her, sensing the determination in her and I sigh.

"The coronation..." I say, "well... maybe we can use the distraction then."

"Indeed."

So we walk with the rest of the people towards the Dragon Pit. Once we get there almost the entire building is filled with people, curious to hear what happened, what the news is.

"People of King's Landing." Otto's voice resound inside, "today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead" everyone in the audience lets out sad and surprised noises, but Otto continues, "but it is also the most joyous of days, for as his spirit left us, "I roll my eye, always the theatrical one, "he whispered his final wish: that his firstborn son, Aegon should succed him.

I sigh and look at Rhaneys, her having the same confused look as me. The audience is just as confused, but eventually starts to applause while the guards enter, creating a path for Aegon to walk through.

I take an attentive look at him, he seems nervous, almost reluctant too. One thing was certain: he himself didn't ask for it. Though, I'm afraid of what power could do to him. What scares me the most is how easily his dear Grandfather could manipulate him.

"It's our chance." I feel Rhaenys pulling me to the sideand down the stairs to where the dragons are kept.

Not being very familiar with the place I let the princes lead me down and once we get to Meleys I can't help but freeze.

"Come." She tells me as she gets ready to ride her dragon.

"I..." I stutter a little, "is that okay? Will she be okay with me riding with you?"

"You sell yourself short, my lady." She tells me, "you got an affiliation with dragons, they can feel it. Now come, we have no time to waste."

I take a deep breath as I follow her up on her dragon.

"Let's go, Meleys, fly." She orders in Old valyrian and her dragon immediately complies, "hold tight."

The dragon takes off and I close my eyes waiting to be out of the caves... out in the Dragon pit.

The dragon's roar is mixed with screams of terror from the people taken by surprise as they run to safety.

I open my eyes, I look down the the royal family standing there.

"Open the doors!" Otto screams.

"We have to go." I tell her.

She doesn't respond, only stares at them. I loom down again, my eyes catch Aemond's. He looks furious, hurt too, but there's something more sinister in him now, something that makes my skin crawl.

I see Alicent stand in front of Aegon, expecting Rhaenys to burn them all. Instead Meleys only roars loudly, making them tremble in fear, then she turn around and flies out.

To Dragonstone.

[leighbaye]

— CINNAMON GIRL ⁴

written by mina leigh ୨ৎ , dallas winston 𝔁 f! reader | wc 1000

summary. dallas’ perspective on y/n, delving into his tough exterior and how she manages to reach the vulnerable parts of him he keeps hidden. through dallas’ eyes, we see the impact of her unwavering kindness and how she brings a rare sense of peace to his otherwise chaotic life.

labels. dally’s point of view.

warnings. mentions of dallas’ rough upbringing, and brief references to violence and criminal behavior.

life’s a fight. always has been. you either take the punches or you throw ‘em, and i’ve never been the kind to just sit there and take it. the streets taught me that. new york taught me that.

but for some reason, y/n never needed to fight. she could walk into a room and somehow everything got quieter, calmer. like even the meanest bastard wouldn’t dare cross her. i used to think it was because she was soft, too sweet for her own good. but now i know better. y/n’s tougher than most people i’ve ever met. just in a different way.

the first time i met her, i thought she was a joke.

it was a couple years back. i’d just started hanging around with the curtis boys and their little crew. didn’t trust any of them yet, not really. but they had my back in a fight, and that was good enough.

y/n was sitting on the couch at their place, holding pony’s arm and telling him to quit squirming while she bandaged him up. he’d taken a tumble during a game of football, and the kid was whining like he’d lost a leg or something.

saw two other kids, looked just like her. the younger boy spoke.

❝im so sorry pony! i didn’t mean too, i’ll do anything to make it up to you!❞

i already don’t like him, why are his glasses so big?

pony, one i was familiar with replied.

❝don’t worry ‘bout it charlie, we were just playing around ... ouch! y/n … that hurts.❞

❝you’re fine, pony,❞ she said, her voice calm but firm. ❝just sit still.❞

i leaned against the doorframe, watching her. she didn’t look like she belonged in a place like this — too clean, too pretty, too … good.

❝who’s this?❞ i asked, jerking my chin toward her.

❝that’s y/n,❞ soda said, grinning. ❝she’s like our guardian angel or something.❞

❝angel, huh?❞ i smirked, crossing my arms. ❝doesn’t look like much to me.❞

y/n glanced up then, her eyes meeting mine. they weren’t soft like i expected. there was steel in them, and it threw me off.

❝and you must be dallas,❞ she said, her voice steady. ❝i’ve heard about you.❞

❝yeah? what’d you hear?❞

❝that you’re trouble.❞

i grinned, stepping closer. ❝and you’re not scared?❞

she smiled back, just a little. ❝should i be?❞

i didn’t know what to say to that, so i just shrugged and walked away. but that was the start of it, i guess. the beginning of whatever this thing is between me and her.

y/n’s different from anyone i’ve ever known. most people take one look at me and decide i’m not worth their time. hell, half the time i don’t blame ‘em. i’m a mess, and i know it.

but not y/n. she sees through all the crap, like she’s got some kind of sixth sense for knowing when someone’s not as tough as they act.

there was this one night, a few months after we met. i’d gotten into a fight with some socs down by the tracks. they jumped me, four against one, and i didn’t exactly come out on top. i managed to drag myself to the curtis house, bloodied and bruised, thinking maybe darry could patch me up.

instead, i found y/n sitting on the porch, reading some book i didn’t recognize.

❝what the hell happened to you?❞ she asked, her eyes going wide when she saw me.

❝just a little disagreement,❞ i muttered, trying to brush past her.

but she wasn’t having it. she grabbed my arm, surprisingly strong for someone so dainty, and pulled me inside.

❝sit,❞ she ordered, pointing to the kitchen table.

i thought about arguing, but something in her voice made me shut up and do as she said. she grabbed a towel and some ice, cleaning me up without a word.

❝you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself, dallas,❞ she said after a while, her voice quiet.

❝doing what?❞ i asked, wincing as she dabbed at a cut on my forehead.

❝acting like you don’t matter,❞ she said, her eyes meeting mine. ❝like it doesn’t matter if you get hurt.❞

i didn’t know what to say to that, so i just looked away.

it’s funny. i’ve been through more fights and close calls than i can count, but the only thing that’s ever really scared me is the thought of losing y/n.

i don’t mean that in a romantic way or anything. it’s just … she’s the only person who’s ever made me feel like i’m worth something. like maybe i’m not as screwed up as i think i am.

she’s always there, no matter what. when i screw up, when i push people away, when i do something stupid that lands me in trouble — y/n’s there, not judging, not lecturing. just … there. in a good way.

there was this one time, not too long ago, when things got really bad. i’d been arrested again, and when i got out, i didn’t want to see anyone. i holed up in my crappy little room, trying to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

but y/n didn’t let me. she showed up one afternoon, knocking on the door until i finally let her in.

❝what do you want?❞ i asked, my voice rough.

❝to check on you,❞ she said simply, stepping inside like she owned the place.

she didn’t say much after that, just sat with me, her presence steady and grounding. after a while, i started talking — about new york, about my parents, about all the crap i never tell anyone.

and she listened. she didn’t try to fix me or tell me everything was going to be okay. she just listened, and somehow, that was enough.

y/n’s the kind of person you don’t expect to find in a place like this. she’s too good for it, too good for any of us, really. but she stays anyway, and i don’t think i’ll ever understand why.

all i know is, i’d do anything to protect her.

© MINA LEIGH 2024 - 2025

. . . prologue darry curtis sodapop curtis ponyboy curtis

you’re here! johnny cade steve randle two - bit matthews

[foccaccia]

Day 18, Judgement, for Wyllstravaganza2024! Please open image for better quality, etc etc.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

i don't like that people praise catra for "standing up to her abusers" (even though her confrontation with shadow weaver didn't really hold any value because catra never realized that she had turned into shadow weaver by that point; and hordak wasn't her abuser, he was her boss and she was just using his disability against him) but they never praise adora for standing up to shadow weaver in s1 or to catra in s3.

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[steadythora]

Feeling nothing would be a respite. "Nothing" meant that each and every Aetherian knew the taste of steel and had met their just demise. Thora would embrace feeling nothing if it came after she was finished. And she certainly wasn't done. "Yeah, I think I'd hate myself even more if I let my hatred turn into grief. I'm done grieving, I did more than my fair share of it on the journey over. What I want to do now is take action."

Thora had more passion than she knew what to do with. Her teacher taught her that her emotions were her greatest weapon. While other aspiring sword-wielders in the Guild were taught to conceal to strike true, Thora was taught how to put everything she was feeling into her sword strikes. For people who struggled to accept her severity, it could be difficult for them to understand her heart. But Lothar understood exactly where she was coming from.

"They'll get what's coming to them because I'll deliver it to them. Personally, I won't let this country turn me soft. I won't let myself forget why I keep taking steps forward. I think it was foolish even to question my hatred level. How could mine possibly weaken if they're the reason I can't go home?" The time for sadness for both of them had passed. Instead, she'd focus on keeping them both in fighting strength. It wasn't about being the best in the Guild, it was about being the best to take on the Aetherians. At this point, there were few people Thora would feel comfortable with being at her side when she did more than Lothar. "Again. Are you ready?"

The barbarian had survived through many opposing feats over the years, that which whittled at the fundamentals of one's very self. He endured simply because there was no other option but forward, no other direction but through. He'd lost his family young, trusting and loving folk who doted on their community only to have a monster tear them apart, to watch as their blood ran red through the floorboards they'd built themselves. The beast had left Lothar alive, to watch the massacre, to mock him, and what could have made the strongest person wither in defeat only made Lothar stand taller in the hopes that he'd once day face the very beast.

As each year went on, such motivation didn't evaporate, but Lothar found new ambitions, people to care for even if he prayed not to care for them. Warriors like him, allies he could strive to work alongside and revere; he needn't hunt the beast any longer for each day he woke and stood strong in the face of battle was enough to squash dozens more in opposition to him and his own mantra. Thora understood these values, Thora was these values within her position as a Blademaster and as the faiman lowered her staff, Lothar too withdrew, prowling in a small circle as to catch his own breath.

Sadness eclipsed the drive within her eyes and Lothar simply paused, standing at attention to bow his head, "Hatred isn't the only thing that fuels us, but I'd say it is a powerful motivator. I think... hatred changes... maybe to grief, maybe to passion. If you're afraid that it'll leave you with... nothing," Lothar thought of his own life, how long he'd let hatred fuel him to hunting down the very beast that turned his very world upside down until it transitioned into something that didn't feel so caustic. It hadn't righted a wrong, to let go of the animosity which fueled him, but he'd had new hopes and aspirations to hold onto that didn't feel like a noose round tight around his neck, "-hatred is only the beginning to the power within, but something tells me you've already some idea of this." The barbarian even conjured an empathetic smile, "Not crazy, but mortal, with foolish ideas - much like me. They will get what is coming to them, Thora."

[idontmindifuforgetme]

my gma told me that my mom used to wake up, eat breakfast, then study for 12 hours straight. every fuckin day. and my gpa would bring her food and tell her to take breaks bc of how immersed she was. she’s literally my role model forever

[the-dragon-girl-27]

[watashi dake mite]

Trying to draw a 2023 Vocaloid song every day till 2024 [21/31]

🍣SUSHI-GO-ROUND🍣 - Utsu P

Speedraw

[girlatrocity]

MAN.

[nexttothelamp]

She liked the post 😭

Damn I love my wife so much it might kill me

[theokusgallery]

I hate that I have reoccurring themes in everything I make. YES this guy has a complex over the fact that everyone prefers his sibling AGAIN. YES he was ostracized by his peers since he was in primary school and never knew why until years later. URGH

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

i need to consume something or my thoughts consume me

[licorishh]

WHAT THE CRAP IS THIS

WHAT IN THE FLYING FREAKING FRICKIN' EVERLOVING CRAP IS THIS, ACTUALLY

[applescabs]

happy birthday to me i celebrated by looking at my favourite sequence of images in the world and crying over it at half past midnight.

[irritablepoe]

You know what's fucking stupid? The little mean voice inside my head that tells me being in a fandom is childish and "aren't you too old for that" and "aren't you feeling ridiculous caring (and projecting) so much for/onto fictional characters" bc literally no MUM, I'm in fact just doing what I love and it's cruel that I feel ridiculous to this day that I'm building up my personality through fictional characters bc I never knew who I really was and fandoms are giving me the opportunity to explore that. Yes ofc that's not "normal" or whatever but is it really that bad? Like I'm feeling better through that, it's giving me motivation to do things. So yeah... Thanks.. another reason I have to unlearn shame I suppose.