#best angst is dysfunctional family angst
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primjadespring · 1 month ago
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Drew this during calc class (was holding in tears)
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Gonna fail calculus like how Hiromi fails as a mo— (gets slapped)
Long ass story, the post finally arrives! @the-copycat-hero
On the same road that a young boy takes on their way to his friend's house is a hospital. A hospital that is always busy with someone to help, so busy that the people occupying their rooms tend to blur together.
And even in the absence of the boy and the house that gave a roof to the wonderful family of the boy's friend, the hospital still stood on that road. The hospital with so many rooms, one couldn't count them without getting mixed up and turned around.
But in the mix of madness, hidden in the blur of the patients, was room 4307. The room that held a great tragedy and a great miracle of one person experienced and seen by no one before.
When passing by room 4307, the voices of several teenaged students could be heard.
A knock on the room door grabbed the attention of the three students, and the door opened to reveal a familiar scruffy man, with the most droopy red eye, constant annoyed expression, and long black hair to frame his face, perfectly signaling his "do not talk to me" vibe. Except now this man was a caring teacher, checking up on his after-mortem student.
"He should be free to leave in another week, if the doctors decide he's recovering well and it's safe for him to walk, train, study, the whole shebang." Aizawa-sensei answered the question the students hadn't known he'd heard.
"Now," he continued, not waiting for any of them to reply, "I understand you two are worried reps, but Monoma's got a few other visitors today."
Taking the hint, Shoda and Kendo said their goodbyes and exited the hospital room.
Monoma rested his chin on his hand and groaned to the teacher, "You sure know how to clear a room Teach, but they really couldn't have stuck around for a few doctors visits?" Monoma never needed to say just how much he loves his classmates and wants to be with them, but he always pushes sneaks it into a conversation anyways.
"Oh it's not just doctors."
Monoma was confused. The last he checked, none of his classmates were allowed to visit him because of his condition- Kendo and Shoda having special permission that Vlad-sensei fought for under the guise that they're his class reps.
A figure emerged into the doorway that Monoma hadn't realized was still open. A figure of long blonde hair and pale skin, who's dark green eyes were too faraway to be in the body of a caring mother, visiting her living son.
"Neito." She said loud enough so that he could hear with his very limited hearing. It wasn't unnatural to her to speak like that, she had to do the same thing growing up with her mother with the same hearing loss as her son.
But now she had to do it so her son would know she was there, not just what she was saying.
"Oh." is all he could find within him to say. Aizawa looked between the two before leaving with a quick note that he would check on Monoma later.
The woman stood in the doorway for a few moments, looking around the hospital room; the iv, the monitors, and every piece of furniture had more eye contact with her than Monoma did.
"I wasn't expecting you to visit."
The simple sentence struck her out of her stupor, looking at him almost offendedly.
"You've been in the hospital almost a week, after being dead for days. You just fought in a war and are expected to skip back over to school, and you didn't think I would visit?" Her voice raised a little as she continued talking and walked a little closer to his bed.
Monoma thought of 100 things to say to her, none of them nice, but instead he looked back at the doorway with all his might to see the blurry sliding door closed. No one else was expected to enter.
"I see dad isn't with you." Monoma tried to meet his mother's eyes, his words carrying another message: if he can't be bothered to visit, why should I expect you either?
His mother took a sharp inhale and squeezed her eyes shut. "Your father- he..." they both knew she had nothing good to say.
"He has nothing to do with me. I'm so happy you're okay." She said with such tenderness you could believe that it came from a caring mother.
Monoma wanted nothing more that to believe her- she had no reason to lie- but he couldn't stop his stupid mouth from talking. "Yeah I bet you no longer have to worry about fighting over who has to deal with the funeral services."
Monoma couldn't see it, but her face cringed for a moment, just a moment, where she looked guilty.
Despite his blindness, her silence spoke volumes and Monoma knew exactly what that meant.
"You didn't...”
"Neito I-"
YOU SERIOUSLY FOUGHT OVER THAT?! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW CRAZY THAT IS??"
"I know, but I do care about you Neito- that was just-"
"Oh yes, the love and care I feel." Monoma usually had a better handle on his emotions, but at the moment he really didn't care how he was acting, he just wanted his mother gone.
"I DO-" the woman who was practically foreign to her son stopped as she realized she was shouting, and finally walked up to his bed to cup his face and spoke in a quieter voice.
"I do care about you. I love you so much, and I'm sorry that I haven't been able to make you believe that. And I promise, I will do what I can to make sure you're safe." The emphasis on safe made Monoma nervous.
"What do you mean safe?"
She let go of Monoma and backed up just a little bit, still making eye contact. "I'm taking you out of UA."
Monoma felt his blood run cold and his heart drop. "... what?"
"Neito, look around. Look at you!" She waved her hands around frantically before gesturing at her bedridden son. "Is this really the life you want for yourself? To be getting injured all the time? To die on a battlefield?" Her voice rose the more she spoke and this time she didn't try to lower it.
Monoma didn't know what to think, what to say. All words died in his mouth. When he was a kid, all he wanted was for his parents to pay attention to him, to care about him- and now he was getting that in the worst way possible.
"I am not leaving 1-B." Monoma said slowly
His mother looked aghast. "Those people got you killed and you want to go back?"
"What the hell did you expect when you convinced dad to let me be a hero? Did you think I was just going to sit on my ass-"
"Language, I am your mothe-"
"AND DO nothing!? My life is always going to be on the line. And YOU agreed to that when you let me be a hero."
His mother stared at him for several moments before speaking up again, much quieter than before to where Monoma could barely hear her, "Well I'm taking that back. I'm sorry Neito."
They stood in silence until they heard the door slide open again, a doctor and Aizawa on the other side.
"Pardon us," the doctor said, "Are we interrupting?"
Monoma's mother quickly broke eye contact with her son to address the doctor, "No, I was just about to head out. Pardon me if I stole important time from you doctor.”
"Oh you can stay if you’d like, it's just a check up and typically parents stay with their kids during these." The doctor clearly didn't understand the situation.
"It's just a check up right? She doesn't need to stay." Monoma stared back at his mother with a look telling her to get out.
Before she left she announced, "I'll be back tomorrow." And left with a nod.
Aizawa eyed her until she was out of sight and snapped his attention to Monoma, but said nothing.
The next day, true to her promise, "Mrs." Monoma made her way into the hospital that her son had been staying at for the past week and a half.
Her heels clacked on the tile floor as she started to make her way up to his room before hearing a man's voice from behind her.
"Ah, Mrs. Monoma."
She turned around to find the owner of the voice was the scroungy man who was next to the doctor yesterday. A teacher, she remembered, but his name...
"Hello. You're one of Neito's teachers, yes?" She didn't bother with reaching out a hand to shake, she didn't want to formalize with a man who helped kill her son.
"Aizawa Shouta, Mrs. Monoma. We haven't properly met."
"Well, now we have. If you don't mind me, I'm going to visit my son- who is hospitalized." Monoma said shortly, a soupcon of resentment in her voice, as she turned around and started to walk away.
Aizawa didn't try to stop her but continued talking. "Your son is actually a topic I wanted to discuss with you. We've been informed that you plan to remove him from the hero course and UA entirely, whether he wants it or not."
Monoma stopped in her tracks and whipped around, "Yes well, sometimes people make decisions for others without asking their permission. It's how things get done." She slowly walked towards the audacious man, her voice etched with discontent. "It's what UA saw fit to do when they shipped off our children to war with little regard on if they'd come home to us."
The mother stood in front of Aizawa with a face of anger and her voice a threatening whisper, “Now you may see my actions as paranoid, or stringent, but I am doing what is best for him and one day he will understand that. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next week, but this is the decision I have made and he will just have to deal with it.”
Aizawa understood where she was coming from. The hero commission demanded that everyone with a hero license were to fight, and no parents were made aware of this in case there was an uproar in reaction. Illogical, in his opinion- and look how that decision landed.
But as much as Aizawa understood and agreed with this mother's anger, he came here for a reason. "I completely understand your decision. However, your son loves being at this school, and being with his classmates. His homeroom teacher has reported that he's been much happier as the school year went on and Neito finds a lot of comfort in his friends here. If you were to take him out-"
"YOU GET NO SAY IN WHAT IS GOOD FOR MY SON'S WELLBEING." Monoma suddenly shouted as she stuck an accusative finger in Aizawa's chest, "BECAUSE OF YOUR IDEA OF "SUPERVISION", NEITO IS STUCK IN A HOSPITAL BED FOR THREE WEEKS. HE HAS A DEATH CERTIFICATE. I WOULD RATHER NEITO HAVE A LIFE AWAY FROM UA THAN NO LIFE AT ALL." She took in a shaky breath and lowered her arm to her side, body tense and unmoving.
The air was thick as silence followed the mother's shouts. Then suddenly, Aizawa lowered his body in a bow and spoke in acquiesce.
"You're right. It was my job to keep your son safe and I failed. Because of my failure as a hero and a caretaker- you, your son, and all his classmates have gone through a terrible experience and I cannot offer enough condolences and apologies to erase your pain, as much as I wish I could." Aizawa paused for a moment, clearly pensive and radiating sorrow. He kept his bow low and respectful and took a deep breath before making his request, "But despite what has happened, Neito still wishes to be a hero. He wants to continue his educational journey here at UA, and he wants to continue his life alongside his friends in class 2-B."
"So please, do not take away Neito's dream because of our shortcomings."
Monoma looked at the pleading teacher as if she had been turned upside-down. Working her entire career in the modeling industry and then at her husbands company, an actual remorseful apology was rare, and was certainly not expected from the "heroes" entrusted with her son's life and had messed up horrendously. She felt ambivalent staring at this man with an eye patch and a metal leg, realizing that those are from trying. This man had truly tried to protect her son and might have even given his life to protect him.
But all she could think was her son having the same fate- missing limbs and appendages, failing to save people and feeling sorrow and despair. Her heart wouldn't be able to take that.
"I can't... I can't do that to myself, or my son." She spoke slowly and low, her voice thick. "Have a good day." A clear end to the conversation and Aizawa watched as the woman turned and walked away, making her way to her son's hospital room.
As Mrs Monoma started to open the hospital door, she stopped at the sound of two distressed teenage shouts coming from the room.
"WHAT?!"
Through the small opening she had made through the door, she watched a short, round faced boy with light blue hair and a taller muscular redhead girl converse with Neito.
"She's taking you out of UA?" The boy said.
"She can't do that- I mean, this has been your dream for years and-" the distressed girl spoke quickly but Neito managed to cut her off.
"I know..." He held his hand up to motion the girl to stop, "But I don't think there's anything I can do. She sounded pretty ready to take me out."
Seeing the dejected look on Neito's face made his mother so upset to see. She knew that he didn't like this decision but that's what is best for him... right?
The boy sat down on one of the chairs next to the hospital bed and sat in thought, his eyebrows knit together. "And you're sure there's no way of convincing her?"
Neito's voice broke as he spoke, "I... I don't know." He brought his legs towards his chest, something the doctors definitely wouldn't approve but Neito showed no pain.
The redhead girl gripped onto the end of the bed and was practically shaking in anger. "Why does she care?" She whispered.
Mrs Monoma felt offended by the outrageous question, but there was something tugging on the back of her mind, a blurry memory of someone with red hair.
The round faced boy looked at the girl like she was suddenly someone unfamiliar.
"Well, any worried parent might do this, we should've expected it. I mean," he let out a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm surprised Midoriya's still enrolled."
"But it's not like she's ever cared before." The girl let out an aggravated breath, "Now she just- appears out of nowhere and-"
"Kendo." The boy interrupted, "there's no point in getting all mad over it, Monoma's the only one who gets a say in what to do."
At the mention of the girl's name, the memory snapped to the front of her mind, and Mrs Monoma remembered a little redhead girl at her door, along with an older boy who looked similar to the girl, saying she was Neito's friend. The boy introduced the two of them as the Kendo's who lived a few blocks away.
Neito, still curled in on himself, just shrugged and mumbled something.
This "Kendo" seemed to have heard him and suddenly reached out her hands and held his face- much more aggressively than Mrs Monoma recalled having done just the day before, but Neito looked less tense with her. No, not quite "less tense", he was just comfortable. Comfortable with her, and not his own mother.
"No-" Kendo started, "no it is not okay, and we are not going to let her take you out of UA."
"But what-" he started to argue.
"You love it here don't you?" The girl interrupted. Neito stared at her for a second, surprised by the question, before letting out a small 'yeah'. "Then we are not going to let her take you out."
The hidden mother sucked in a small breath at that. How could he love it there? Regardless of any happy memories, they had gotten him killed. They couldn't guarantee his safety anymor-
They already couldn't guarantee his safety for a while.
She remembered hearing about the USJ attack, and when they were attacked at camp. She'd thought about how dangerous it was, and glad that Neito was okay, but she'd never thought to take him out over it. She barely even thought to call. She didn't care when they insisted on housing him- and all the other students.
UA had been a danger for a long time- all the more reason to take him out now.
The girl was half on the bed after reaching out to Neito, but was too focused on his face to notice or move, "You have wanted to be a hero for YEARS, and I won't let anyone take that dream from you, you hear me?"
The other boy spoke up as well, "Yeah, we'll all be right there with you, just give us the word."
Neito looked between his two classmates and his eyes became glossy. Kendo noticed and crawled on the bed to hug him.
The moment was silent as the two sat on the bed in a tight hug before Neito whispered:
"I like being at UA."
"I know Monoma."
"I don't want to leave."
"I know, we won't let you."
"I don't want to change my life, I like it now."
Kendo said nothing but squeezed him tighter.
...
....
"I don't want to change" the words rung in her ears. The woman behind the door felt as if she couldn't breathe, breath became irrelevant, unimportant to the mind of this woman. "I don't want to change," how many times had those words echoed in her head in passing thought. How many hours had she stayed in bed, wishing she hadn't changed herself for a faux man, who spoke empty promises. How many years of her life was wasted away because she allowed others to decide her life.
Hiromi no longer felt that she was standing on a hospital floor, or that she was standing at all. Everything felt lost, that she was floating in everything her life was, floating in nothing.
Hiromi? When was she last called her name. She wasn't Hiromi anymore, she was a Monoma. That's who she had been for the last 17 years of her life. That's all she was.
Is this how Neito would feel when he was in his adult years? Had he already reached his adult years? He just fought in a war, did he really still feel like a child? Could he?
Mrs. Monoma found herself sitting on the floor, clutching onto the chair next to her, but she couldn't feel the grip, couldn't feel the cool tile floors. She couldn't feel anything. Everything was lost- her life was lost, the man she fell in love with was lost, her son was lost, her beautiful sister was lost, the wedding of her dreams was lost, the cozy home she dreamed of filled with laugher and love was lost, what else? What else was ripped away from her, what else had she chosen to throw away in exchange for a life she didn't want, hadn't desired. When had this happened.
She felt as if she turned around and everything was suddenly gone. But she knew it wasn't true, she could feel the pathway of her life crumbling as she walked for years. She's cried so many nights as she felt the unsteady cracks catch at her heels and make her trip, scratches and bruises appearing in every single place, later replaced by scars, scars replacing every single part of her, leaving her nothing of the same person she once was, the giddy and ebullient woman who loved the world despite it's battles. She was now cold and emotionless, broken by the world, by her world, and breaking everything else in the process.
And yet still she walked, on a cracking, breaking, spiraling road, because what else is she supposed to do? What other road is there to go? There's nothing left, every other road she had was destroyed with her own hands till nothing else was left, nothing to fix the road, nothing to know the road even existed, except maybe a shared name or a picture, but even those are cracked and freyed, erased and thrown out.
Over the years she worked and worked, trying to appease her in-laws, trying to wash out her emotions and everything she loved in order to be taken more seriously. And for what? To become "Mrs Monoma"? "Mrs" "Monoma". That's all she was, a Monoma wife. A wife to that slimy, stinking, rotten man that can't even stick up for his WIFE, the woman he CHOSE to love, chose to MARRY- instead it was left up to her to to go against those foul people, and look how good she was at that. Left with a son she didn't want, a house she didn't want, a job she didn't want, a husband she didn't want, a title she didn't want- a "Mrs. Monoma"
Mrs Monoma
"Mrs." "Mrs." "Mrs." Was all they ever called her.
What about Hiromi? When was the last time someone ever called her by her name? When was the last time she talked to someone who called her that?
"Mrs." Oh it was all she ever heard anymore, "Mrs" "Mrs" "Mrs-
"Miss?!" Hiromi felt someone gently grab her shoulders and lightly shake her, knocking her out of her stupor.
Suddenly she could feel the cool tile floor underneath her, the grip her hand had on the chair next to her. It felt as if all of her senses came back in an instant and immediately short circuited, the lights blinding her, the ringing sound in her ears making it hard to hear what the nurse next to her was saying.
Hiromi's eyes focused on the woman and let her ears slowly stop ringing to let the nurse's voice into her head.
"Ma'am are you alright?"
"Ah, yes yes I'm fine." Hiromi put a hand on her head as if suffering a headache. "Got lightheaded for a moment is all."
"We should get you some place to lay down and some water." The kind nurse helped her up but Hiromi stepped away from her.
"Oh no I'm quite fine now, I'm just visiting my son and I'll be leaving."
The nurse knit her brows together and cautiously reached for the woman's arm. "It's dangerous to shrug off dizzy spells, do you have them frequently?"
Hiromi could recall a few after a good many hours of staring at her computer screen, or working long hours of calls, meetings, reviewing products, writing papers, and other grueling tasks- but those were caused by overworking herself. This was fine, she was fine.
"No, I don't, I am completely fine. Thank you." She began to reach for the door next to her as the nurse continued to reach for her arm, when the door suddenly opened and two high school students were on the other end.
"Oh." Kendo stared Mrs. Monoma with no attempt to hide her surprise that the woman has visited.
Hiromi knew there were many things she should say to this girl, many apologies and many thanks. But at the moment, she didn't care to do any of it; she walked past the two children and walked right for Neito.
"Miss I really do think you should sit down-" the nurse shouted but Hiromi didn't care. She kept walking towards her son and reached her arms out surround him in a stuffing hug. Probably the fist hug she's given him since he got into UA.
Neito squeaked at suddenly getting pulled into a hug, especially since he had no idea what was happening, having little vision and little hearing. But he was a smart one, from what little he heard, what he could feel, and who had yet to visit him, Neito could reasonably deduce that it was his mother hugging him.
Reasonably.
But… why was she hugging him? Monoma tried to look over where his mother had stomped over from to gain some context.
He could see a blurry figure that looked unlike his classmates walk closer and speak loud enough that he could hear her worried tone, before she suddenly stopped as Monoma could feel his mother say something, although his head was swimming so much he couldn't discern what it was.
The arms around him squeezed him tighter for a moment and Monoma could hear his mother's voice.
"I'm sorry."
Monoma could barely understand his mother. He could hear her, but what she said made no sense. Why was she apologizing? What stirred her so much that she was apologizing?
His thoughts cut off when he heard a sniffle, and his mother moved a hand to hold his head.
"I'm sorry." She said again but in a much wobblier voice.
It felt like had time stopped, the two stuck there like statues- unmoving and unbound by time. The only movement was Monoma shifting a hand to complete the hug. He held his mother and he held on tight: an action he had wanted to do for so long.
Monoma felt like a child, holding onto his mom as she hugged him tight. It felt childish to admit that the whole time he had been cooped up in the hospital, a small piece of him wanted to hug his mother. It felt dumb too.
Neito was never close with either of his parents, his mom felt estranged to him. But in that moment everything felt...
Right. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally connected. Neito wanted nothing more than to just stay there with his mom. For a moment, for a year, for forever- it didn't matter- he just wanted to stay right there.
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b00m-b0mb · 3 months ago
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Something really funny that's occurred to me is the way Joe talks about Maccie is like she's some catastrophic event that happened to their family "I can't believe she's been here that long." / "Everything's been different since she was born" / "Everything changed." / "She changed everything."
And it's just rlly funny to me. I want to up the dramaticness of his words at some point. And anyway, he's talking to the Samurai/Ronin for the first time and I'm wondering the impression he's getting lmao
Joe is certainly expressive to me, but only when he's given the chance. And I think w Ronin, he just started letting a lot of stuff out bc thus guy is gonna go on his way anyways.. but then he's like wait!!! Actually let me go?? For a little? (Platonic yearning so bad)
Ronin like 》^. "I suppose.. Alright, curious karate man, I'll accompany you a little longer."
Or something I'm messing around UGH
#the reason everything changed is bc joes mother passed away either shortly after Maccies birth or during#that started the strain w joe and sr but they also had.. her yk? its just sillay#dysfunctional karate family ily <3#sr isnt a terrible father he is just narrow sighted and firmly believes he knows best. he doesnt give his kids the room to grow- but he#really loves them. he just wants to protect them in a way i think.. he just lost his wife and i think that made his parenting way more#overbearing. buT ALSO. JOE JUST BEEFS W MACCIE BC YK SJXNXNX theyre siblings#espexially when they were younger. teen joe is sooo funny to me. teen angst ft this baby i dont want in my room KGLZLGKXMVKKC#in current theyre much much closer and Joe has remained Maccie's favorite person. but Joe still gets really annoyed / tired of her sometime#SRRY ugh ily karate family#also also ronin and maccie dynamic so real. i like ronin being patient with children. except maccie is wayyyy more antagonizing to him than#like my oc the lost girl. so fun!!!! sorry#karate maccie#rh head canon#< new tag#karate joe#sr isnt a bad dad on purpose agenda. sr could have the possibility to apologize and fix things one day.#maccies only ever known this version of her father and she doesnt have the capaxity to try and forgive him for certain things joe will#maccie is the golden child but she is also the problem child. she uses her favor to her advantage and to rile up her dad sometimes#just bevause she can and she has a little bit of a problem with him sometimes bc.. you know? shes a very ambitious teen and she doesnt wsnt#to be shackled..... and she doesnt like thinking of Joe as that way and UGH#i love them im normal#to elaborate a tiny bit more i hc joe as having chronic fatigue like myself. hes low spoons and he pushes himself despite it.#but his disability holds him back sometimes snd its like.. you know? he doesnt want to be the weak memver of the family so he keeps pushing#but he also cares about karate too. its not something negative to him. and stuff. even if its hard. its avtually good for his body / health#when he doesnt overexert himself anyway
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adragonprinceswhore · 2 months ago
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Rumours
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Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife
Chapter V: Silver Springs 🎼 Masterlist
Summary: You think back to the tumultuous end of your marriage.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, fighting, possessive Aemond, toxic relationship dynamic, dysfunctional family dynamic, physical violence, blood, anger issues
Word count: 5700
A/N: As always, I’d like to acknowledge my love, Justine @theoneeyedprince 🩵 She’s writing a new series called Careless Whisper and it is a gem! ILY!
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“You excited for the big show tonight?”
Jace’s cheery voice greets you as you enter the backstage area of Winterfell Arena. You look up from your phone and acknowledge your bandmate with a smile, 
“Excited and more nauseous than I’ve ever been”, you joke, sliding your phone in your pocket. 
It looks like most backstage rooms have looked so far on the tour; sparsely decorated with fold up tables and chairs. There’s an array of snacks and drinks offered, and you make your way to the refreshments next to Jace to grab some coffee. 
He appears to already be wearing his stage clothes; a tight, purple silk button-down shirt that  shows just enough skin to get his fans excited. Despite the curse of being the overlooked bassist, Jace has a small yet rowdy fanbase, who tend to go absolutely mental whenever he winks at them from stage. He loves the attention, and you guess today’s extra slutty outfit choice is his gift to them. 
He moves to lean against the table, plastic coffee cup in hand,
“So, will you treat us to a new song tonight? I hadn’t heard ‘Dreams’ all put together before we performed it but damn, it sounded great”
You meet his eyes as you pick up the plastic cup by the small ear on the side, 
“I think I’ll do ‘Dreams’, it’s the only one I feel is really finished”, you reply and take a sip. 
There is another song you’ve been working tirelessly on, but you’re not sure if you feel ready to perform it. 
It is one of the reasons why your album is delayed. The members have all recorded their instruments and finished the back-up, yet you haven’t submitted a final version of your vocals. 
As a musician, you’re used to pouring your heart out when writing lyrics, not afraid of getting personal. And still, for some reason, this one almost feels too revealing; too intimate to sing out loud. 
You have the lyrics written down, and you’ve sung them to yourself at home. But singing them on stage, with him there, feels too exposing.
Too vulnerable.  
You haven’t seen Aemond since your regrettable tryst in his hotel room. 
After reading through the divorce papers, you called Alysanne back up, needing help to wrap your head around the entire situation. 
After a few hours of talking, she convinced you that this was for the best. 
You’d gotten what you wanted. 
And the mishap in Aemond’s room was, according to your best friend, nothing more than a chance to “bang one out” one last time. 
“Got it”, Jace replies in his typical cheerful manner. He reaches for a small biscuit on the table and pops it into his mouth, “I’m sure your song will sound great. They always do” 
His warm, brown eyes shine as he assures you of your abilities. It feels nice; how uncomplicated his praise is, and you smile back at him again, thankful to have at least one easy-going person in your band. 
You continue to chat light-heartedly as you wait for the other band members to arrive.  
When Jace heads outside for a smoke, you spot a familiar notebook on one of the chairs nearby. 
It’s open.
Curious and foolish, you head over to see what’s written. 
You glance at the paper, lyrics written by hand in impeccable handwriting. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help yourself. 
‘I don’t wanna stand ‘tween you and love, honey’‘I just want you to feel fine’
Again with the self-pitying? Fucking hell, he’s relentless. 
Did he want you to “feel fine” when he forbade you from attending events without him? Or when he went through your email without your permission?  
‘Oh, you say you love me but you don’t know’
You put the paper back down, already feeling your mood souring. 
Prick.
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When you first started dating, you quickly learned that Aemond was the rock of his family. 
If his brother had been arrested for drunk and disorderly behaviour, he was there. 
If his mum needed someone to help organise a charity event, he was there. 
If his grandfather needed him to go over a case at 3 am, he was there. 
Seeing the stress of such immense pressure weigh him down, you, in turn, tried to be his rock; supporting him in any way you could. 
You managed quite well. Like those times he came home late after spending 12 hours at the office, and you greeted him with a smile and a home-cooked meal, kissing his cheek. 
He’d sit down and grab you by the waist as you placed the plates on the table, keeping you on his lap while you ate and discussed your days together. 
When you finished eating, you’d stay like that. He’d lean into you, resting his face in the crook of your neck while he held you close, thanking you for the delicious meal. 
You knew that he was thankful for what you did for him; gratitude evident in his voice and how he complimented your cooking skills. Still, there was always this sadness inside of him, a pitiful tint to his tone. 
It was tough seeing how drained he got from being everything for everyone. 
Aemond’s older sibling never felt the crushing pressure of being Otto Hightower’s protégée. While he worked tirelessly at Oldtown Solicitors after finishing his degree, they chose to pursue the band full-time. A privileged career choice made optional by their generous trust funds. 
You took a part-time position after graduating so that you could stay in the band and write music. Aemond nearly convinced you to focus on the band full-time as well, arguing that he could provide for you if you ever needed anything. Despite the generous offer, you decided that he already had enough to deal with, and potentially adding further to his endless list of responsibilities didn’t sit right with you. 
You wanted to ease his troubles, not add to them. 
Consequently, when you recorded your first album, it was mostly at night, after Aemond had finished working with his grandfather. His natural talent and precision as a guitarist and singer meant that it usually only took him two or three attempts before he was satisfied with a piece. 
You, on the other hand, did not find the recording process as easy. 
You feel tears of frustration sting your eyes as you step out of the sound booth. Helaena, Aegon and Jace had already gone home, drained from a full day of recording. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?”, Aemond asks when he sees the way the corners of your lips pull downward. 
You let out a shaky breath to gather yourself, swallowing in an attempt to make the lump in your throat disappear, 
“I can’t do it, it just-, it sounds like shit no matter how many times I-”, you mumble, cutting yourself off as you try to take another deep breath, determined not to cry. 
You feel silly, getting so upset over something so nonsensical. Still, being unable to deliver in the way you’d like has left you feeling powerless over your own voice, like you can’t control it. 
Aemond stands up from his seat by the mixing table and slowly makes his way towards you. He moves one of his hands to cup your cheek and looks down to make eye contact with you, 
“Don’t say that”
His voice is soft as his thumb gently strokes your cheek, “It’s late and you’re tired, it’s okay to need a break. But never doubt yourself, love”. 
He leans down to place a kiss on your forehead and you crave his touch like nothing else, pushing yourself against his body as your arms hug his waist. He hugs you back, one hand stroking your hair, and you instantly feel the lump in your throat melt away. 
The tears that had threatened to spill, never do. 
He makes it all go away.
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The blood, sweat and tears you’d put into creating your first ever album as Dragon Dreamers proved to be worth it. Suddenly, your songs play on the radio and are featured on major playlists, where thousands of people can listen to them. 
The success instigated both you and Aemond quitting your jobs and focusing on the band full time together with Helaena, Aegon and Jace. You were certain that leaving Oldtown Solicitors and creating some distance with his grandfather would be good for Aemond, maybe even pushing him to open up to you more. 
He had a tendency of shutting you out, particularly when he was clearly distressed by something. He refused to even acknowledge some things, like he wanted to spare you from it. Yet all his secrecy did was make you feel lonely; like a stranger your beloved did not trust enough to let in. Every time he dismissed your concerns and refused to speak about what was upsetting him, another crack appeared on your weary heart. 
During the first year of your relationship you’d been under the impression that you and Aemond shared a connection so innate and deep, you didn’t need to discuss things like other couples did. 
You were able to understand each other wordlessly. 
And though there was truth in that assumption, time made you realise that Aemond’s inability to open up slowly tore a cavernous rift between the two of you. 
Music blasts out of the speakers in the crowded bar, making it hard for you to hear Tyland as he introduces you to one of his colleagues. 
It’s a man around 30, with a slightly crooked smile and long, dark hair pulled back in a bun. 
You move closer to hear what he’s saying, nodding along to his explanation of what next for your band. 
“We’d like to make a music video for one of your songs, maybe featuring a live performance?”, he asks and you feel yourself light up at the thought. A bright smile breaks out over your face, revealing your approval of his proposal. 
“That would be amazing!” 
You nearly have to shout for him to hear you over the ruckus in the bar, and you lean in a little closer. 
“Have you ever considered doing some solo stuff? On the side, of course”, he asks, grey eyes locked with yours. 
You open your mouth to answer, but before you have a chance you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, stopping you, 
“She wouldn’t have time for that”
Aemond’s firm voice answers right behind you. You didn’t see him come up, and you can hear the irritation in his voice. A quiet sigh leaves your lips, dreading what’s to come. 
The man Tyland had introduced you to appears a bit stunned by the sudden shift in atmosphere, and offers you both an awkward smile and stiff nod before heading to the bar counter. 
You turn to face Aemond, whose face is set in a frown,
“What was that about?”, he asks and you feel irate frustration bubble up inside your chest. 
This is not the first time he’s taken the liberty of answering for you, or scaring away anyone who dared approach you. 
“Nothing”, you reply before walking around Aemond, moving towards the door. 
You need air, your husband’s presence suffocating you. 
You step outside and spot Jace, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 
“You don’t happen to have one more?” 
He pulls out the pack together with his lighter and opens it for you in an invitation to steal one. 
You place the cigarette between your lips, mumble out “thanks”, and light it up. 
You take a drag, let the smoke fill your lungs, and you close your eyes. 
The nicotine gives you a slight high and your fingertips tingle pleasantly. 
“Give us a minute, Jace”
Aemond’s voice interrupts your serenity, and your companion leaves without a word of protest.  
You open your eyes to look at Aemond. You know he’s upset about what had just happened, but there is something else that he’s not telling you. 
Behind the angry facade, he seems sad. 
Or insecure? 
It is hard to decipher when he so persistently tries to push those feelings down. 
He doesn’t say anything. His hand seeks out yours to grab the cigarette and he takes a long drag before handing it back to you. You wish he’d just talk to you. Tell you what makes him act so hostile towards those around you. 
Towards you.
It makes you anxious; the uncertainty. Not knowing what’s going on inside. 
Aemond breaks the silence.,
“So, you really want to leave the band?”
You click your tongue in frustration and throw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it until the bud stops glowing,
“When have I ever said that?”
“You sure seemed happy when that scumbag wanted to steal you away”, he says and moves to lean against the wall next to you. 
“Aemond”, you sigh, looking up to meet his eyes. He is so hard to read it infuriates you. 
You know there is no point in fighting. It’s like his mind is set on distrusting you; of thinking the worst of you. 
“Every time you act like this, you break my heart. It's like you don’t trust me in the slightest”, you say in a helplessly defeated voice,
“That hurts, you know”
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As Aemond got more and more possessive over you, he also kept you further and further away from himself. 
Sometimes you wondered if he actually hated you. 
Why else would you cause his ire to light up so fiercely? 
Whenever someone approached you, he was there, looming over you. 
Guarding you. 
Like you were his, and no one else was allowed near. 
No matter how many times you asked him to stop, he wouldn’t listen. 
Instead, after you found yourselves in a fight, something that had become a weekly occurrence, he’d head out without a word, leaving you alone in your shared home. 
He could be gone for hours, leaving his phone behind so you couldn’t contact him. It felt like torture, waiting for him to come back without any knowledge of what he was up to, or if he was okay. 
When he eventually came back and you confronted him about his behaviour, he dismissed your concerns, telling you that he just needed to “clear his head”. 
Everything about the situation felt unfair. 
Not just the fact that he opted for running away instead of talking to you, but also because you knew he’d be livid if you decided to suddenly leave in the middle of the night. 
After a year of meaningless fights, petty arguments and baseless accusations, you came to the realisation that you couldn’t be his rock anymore. And he’d stopped being yours long ago. 
Before the success of the band, you could provide him with reassurance and love. 
Now, it seemed like he’d made you the enemy, suspicious of everything you did, set on distrusting you. 
Staying with him, loving him, felt like too great of a challenge. 
And maybe it was. 
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Taking one last look in the mirror, you put on just a little more lipstick before tossing it in your handbag and walking out of the bathroom. You’d ordered a taxi for six o’clock, and it should arrive any minute now. 
“When were you going to tell me about this?”
Aemond’s harsh voice echoes in the quiet room. 
He’s leaning against the kitchen island in the middle of your open-plan flat. You feel the all too familiar pit of anxiety form in your stomach at his tone. 
He’s irritated again. 
He holds your phone up so that you can see the screen, an email from Tyland.
He’d contacted you earlier today about an opportunity for you to do a photoshoot and interview at Casterly Rock to promote the band's biggest hit yet, Landslide. 
Your eyes narrow as you look at Aemond, 
“Don’t go through my emails”
“Tyland wrote that he’s already booked you a ticket. You have to run that by me first”, he continues in a stern voice. 
As if he’s lecturing a child on bad behaviour. 
You stay silent, move to the sink to pick up a glass and fill it with water. You try to distract yourself enough to breathe, anger already making you feel hot all over. 
“It was a last minute decision, it’s only 2 nights next week”, you explain through clenched teeth. 
You really don’t want to get into a fight right before a show, and had already decided to tell Aemond after instead. Somewhere inside, you knew he wouldn’t be happy. 
“Were you not going to give me the courtesy of letting me know that you’re leaving?”
“I was going to tell you after the show”
Your body is still facing the sink so you won’t have to face him. 
You can’t decide if you’re more angry with him for trying to control you, or saddened by the fact that he doesn’t trust you. 
“You should’ve told me imm-”
“Aemond, you don’t own me. Stop acting like I’m your possession!”
Your irksome voice cuts him off. His still trying to keep his cool, tone refusing to match your intensity as he answers, 
“But I am your husband”
“It’s just two nights away. I’ll be with Tyland the entire time”, you say, softening your tone to not trigger him further. 
“Out of the question. You’re not going”, he replies stoicly and places your phone back on the kitchen island before standing up. 
“That’s not for you to decide!”
Your previous attempt to remain calm fails. You almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all; being denied a business trip by your husband like he’s your guardian. 
“Yes, because we’re a team! I’d never fucking run away without you”, Aemond spits, clearly as incapable of keeping a level head as you are. 
“It’s two nights away to promote the band. I’m not “running away”, you clarify and turn to face him. 
You can see how exasperated he is by his stiff posture and the hard look in his seeing eye. He tries so hard to hide it, and yet you always manage to see through the facade. 
“It’s good publicity”, you say. 
“I said no”, is all he replies before he moves to the sideboard by the door, picking up the keys placed in a small dish resting on the polished surface. 
You feel your face heat up in anger at his dismissal of your words; of your agency. 
How dare he think he can dictate your life? 
“Well, I don’t need your fucking permission!”, you shout back at him, 
“If I want to fly to Casterly Rock, or any other fucking place, I will! You can’t stop me from doing anything, Aemond. I’ll fly to fucking Yi Ti if I so wish! You can’t-”
Your rant is cut off by a sudden loud crash by the wall next to you. 
The remnants of the dish where you kept your house keys lies in shambles on the floor next to you. Your wide eyes look down at the plate's remainders in disbelief before travelling towards Aemond. 
It’s like both of you are frozen in shock from his actions. His recovery seems to be quicker than yours, regret clear on his face and in his voice, 
“Shit. Fuck! Sorry, I’m so sorry”
He rambles apologies in panic, clearly stunned by his own action. He tries to shuffle closer to you, but you recoil as soon as he comes near.  
The shock of his action and the loud sound that accompanied it triggers something inside you, and you immediately feel tears well up in your eyes. 
You feel like a child; startled and scared. 
“Fuck. Sorry for scaring you, love”
His voice is much softer than mere seconds ago. Pleading. 
Aemond brings his hands up slightly, a sign of surrender, and moves closer to comfort you. 
You wince and back away from him, eyes still widened in disbelief. 
“I’d never hurt you”, he tries to assure you. 
You still can’t fully comprehend what had just happened, 
“How the fuck am I supposed to believe that?”
Aemond opens his mouth to answer just as the intercom rings, signalling that the taxi is waiting downstairs. 
You try to gather yourself somewhat and take a deep breath before moving to grab your bag and jacket from the hallway. 
Aemond’s pitiful expression observes you, and you tell him, “When we get back, we need to talk about this. About us. I can’t take this any more”
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The taxi ride to the venue is excruciating. 
Aemond hasn’t said a word, but his fingers are tapping restlessly against his thigh, something you’d learned to be one of his most prominent nervous habits. 
In the corner of your eye, you can see how his gaze repeatedly seeks out yours, but you refuse to look at him. 
He reaches out to lightly touch your fingers, but you move away from his touch,
“I-, I don’t know what came over me, love. I am so sorry for scaring you, I promise it will never happen again”
You’re too tired to respond, and stubbornly continue to watch the city pass by through the car window. 
When the cab pulls up to the live house, you can still feel the tears of shock drying on your cheeks. You thank the driver and step out of the car, before entering the backstage area. 
The small room you’d been assigned to prepare in smells musky and the lights are toned down. 
Helaena is nowhere to be found, but you immediately notice Jace’s brown locks in the corner of the room, seated in an armchair with his base in his lap. 
On the large, brown leather sofa placed in the middle of the room sits a slouching young man with ruffled, silvery hair and purple bags under his eyes. He lights up when he sees you enter, voice slightly slurred, 
“There she is! King’s Landing’s new little, uh-, fucking-, romantic, sexy sweetheart!”, Aegon drunkenly declares, smiling from ear to ear, 
“Charming everyone with her sad songs”
“Hi Aegon, are you okay?”, you ask gently.
You try as hard as you can to hide the fact that you’re disappointed in seeing him so clearly intoxicated. 
You know he has problems with alcohol, and despite a recent trip to rehab, he hasn’t gotten much better. 
“I am, now that you’re here”, he replies with a sloppy wink. 
You move towards the small fridge by the wall of the cramped room, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to him without saying a word. 
He brings the bottle up in a mock cheer before opening it and taking a large sip, possibly to show you, and Aemond, that he isn’t as drunk as you assume he is. 
“Always so fucking sweet to me”, he smiles at you, “Mondo, you’re a lucky guy, you know”, he addresses his brother, who’s leaning against the door, clearly displeased with the fact that Aegon hadn’t been capable of waiting until after the show before he got shit-faced. 
The hostility between the brothers is clearly one-sided as the older Targaryen continues,
“I just saw the most unhinged shit online man! Some fans were discussing what her favourite position is”, he laughs out as he addresses his brother. Aemond’s face is stoic, but you can see the tension in his jaw as he fixes his eye on Aegon. 
“Is it true, baby? Is it really doggy?”, he asks as his eyes shift from Aemond to you. 
You’d gotten more or less used to how lewd your brother-in-law could get when he’s drunk. But being asked something so crass after the day you’d had only leaves you feeling disgusted. 
“Knock it off”, Aemond’s stern voice cuts through the cramped space. 
You notice Jace shifting uncomfortably in his seat, picking up the pack of cigarettes in front of him on the coffee table before standing up and heading out of the door. 
You wish you could run away as well, but the tension radiating from Aemond tells you to stay put.
“Oh, come on, it’s all in good fun! I’d die to have a girlfriend with tits like that”
Whatever game Aegon thinks he’s playing with his brother is clearly one-sided. Aemond quickly jerks his head to the side to look at his brother, seeing eye darting at a speed that his blind eye’s incapable of. 
“Uh oh! Eyes going two different directions!”, Aegon says with a laugh, crossing his eyes to mock Aemond, 
“Can Lazy Eye look you in the face when he’s fucking you?”, he asks and he turns to you, eyes still meeting over the bridge of his nose. 
“Seriously, Aegon, knock it off”, you plea. 
He can turn so fucking mean when he’s drunk, hiding his own displeasure with life behind jabs at his brother. 
He continues to laugh when he adds,
“One eye on your face and one on your tits? A pity he can’t see through it”.
Before you have a chance to reply, Aemond lunges forward, fist held high as he smashes it against his brother's face. Aegon keeps laughing even as blood spills from his nose, staining Aemond’s hand going in for blow after blow. 
You’re frozen for a millisecond before you start to yell at him to stop, but it’s like he doesn’t hear you.  
Neither does he hear his older brother’s laughs turn to grunts of pain as he begins to sober up under Aemond’s assault. 
You see Aegon’s face turn slack, eyes fluttering shut like he’s going out of consciousness. Aemond continues to land punch after punch on his brother’s face and you feel panic rush inside of you. 
You throw yourself on Aemonds back in an attempt to pull him away. He’s inaccessible, not listening to your desperate pleas for him to stop.
Drops of blood are flying in front of you, landing on the worn leather sofa underneath Aegon. Your arms encircle Aemond’s shoulders as you try to pull him off of his brother with all your might. 
He tries to shrug you off, but as he goes in for the next hit, his elbow accidentally retracts against the side of your body, making harsh contact with your ribs. 
You wail out in pain and Aemond immediately stops his assault on his brother to turn around and look at you in panicked worry. 
Your body’s folded over the coffee table next to the sofa, hand placed over the spot that's hurting on the side of your stomach. 
He moves away from Aegon to make his way towards you, but you back away from him by reflex, suddenly too aware of how dangerous his temperament can be. 
You hurry up on your feet to quickly leave the backstage area, Aemond’s strained voice calling out your name behind you. 
He’s fucking lost it.
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Thinking back to everything that led up to your divorce leaves you feeling a mix of emotions, misery being the most prominent one. 
This is supposed to be the highlight of your career; the band’s biggest show yet. 
You don’t want to feel like this; a constant state of being filled with sorrow. 
You want to enjoy performing again. 
You can hear the crowd call for you to come out on stage, and you feel nerves ebbing through your veins in anxious waves. 
“Aemond wanted to perform ‘Never Going Back Again’ as the first part of the encore later on”, Helaena says and looks at you. You feel even more restless. 
“And I thought maybe you have another new song to sing? Maybe the one you sent me a recording of?”
Her hand comes up to rest reassuringly on your upper arm. You know which one she means, even if she doesn’t say anything else. The song. 
“I told the guys it’s called ‘Silver Springs’, they’ll know which one it is from recording. I know we haven’t practised it together but Dreams was such a hit with the fans, I’m sure they’ll love this one too”, she says and smiles gently in that way only she’s capable of. 
The thought of Aemond performing ‘Never Going Back Again’, on top of singing ‘The Chain’ and ‘Go Your Own Way’, lights a fuse inside of you. 
You look over at him, 
“Okay”
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This is it. 
The stage, vast and intimidating, seems to close in as the intro to ‘Silver Springs’ starts to play. 
You have no idea if Aemond had listened to the voice recordings for the song.
You asked Helaena to do backup vocals instead of him on the track, hoping that would make the song feel less of a testament to your heartbreak. 
‘You could be my silver spring’
‘Blue-green, colours flashing’
‘I would be your only dream’
‘Your shining autumn, ocean crashing’ 
What if he had read the lyrics? 
Had he pondered them weeks after, dreading to hear you sing them on stage? 
‘And don’t say that she’s pretty’
‘And did you say that she loved you?’
‘Baby I don’t wanna know’
Had he even cared?
Your longing gets the best of you, and you glance over at Aemond. 
‘So I begin not to love you’
‘Turn around, see me runnin’’
‘I say “I loved you years ago”’
‘Tell myself you’d never loved me’ 
His face is stoic; good eye already observing you.  
He might look calm to the audience, but you can see the tension in his jaw. You see how he’s breathing heavily out of his nose. 
His grip on the guitar seems bruising, fingers moving skillfully; never making a mistake. 
You quickly look away. 
Why do you suddenly find him so intimidating? 
‘And don’t say that she’s pretty’
‘And did you say that she loves you?’
‘Baby, I don’t wanna know’
‘And can you tell me, was it worth it?’
‘Baby, I don’t wanna know’ 
Your own lyrics prickle your heart. 
Do you tell yourself he never loved you because that’d be easier? 
What if it was true, that he never really loved you? 
He’d been possessive over you. And he’d been controlling. But that’s not love. 
Loving someone means you care for their well-being and happiness, over anything else. 
You know he loves Alicent and Helaena. He treats them differently from how he’s been with you; he was so much gentler with them. 
Picking fights with you over nothing, controlling your life and not letting you be happy, that's not love. 
Worst of all, he doesn’t act like that with Alys. 
Does he love her?
‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’
‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’
You think back to how your relationship once was. 
When he was your biggest supporter, erasing any doubts you had about your own talent. Always reassuring you that you were worthy. 
That man is not the one sharing a stage with you now. 
The sorrow over losing your beloved husband turns to anger, and you need him to know. 
He needs to see how much he hurt you. 
‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’ 
You can’t look away, not even when tears start forming in the corners of your eyes. 
Aemond’s seeing eye looks so dead; completely void of emotion. His knuckles are white from the force in which he’s holding his guitar. 
‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’
Every emotion you’ve tried to suppress comes crashing over you; 
Anger.
Hurt.
Betrayal.
Grief. 
But you won’t let him win. You can’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you broken. 
You feel a tear escape down your cheek, but you refuse to look away from his face as you keep singing, 
‘I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice can haunt you’
‘Oh, give it just a chance’
‘You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you’
Despite standing in front of thousands of people, despite what happened in his hotel room, this feels like the most intimate exchange you’ve had in months. You want him to see how much he hurt you. 
You want him to feel bad. 
To hurt too.
‘Was I such a fool?’ 
‘I’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice can haunt you’
Your voice almost breaks from the sheer force of the emotions pouring out of you, but you manage, singing with nothing but raw emotion and sorrow-fuelled rage. More tears slide down your cheeks. 
‘Oh, give it just a chance’
‘You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you’
‘Time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me’
‘I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me’ 
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You finish up the concert on auto-pilot, not really present anymore. As soon as you finish playing The Chain, you make your way back to the hotel. 
You throw the door to your room open, kick off your shoes, and dive into the back of the closet where you store your clothes. 
You pull out Aemond’s university hoodie from the black bin bag you’d tossed it in, anger consuming you just by the sight of it. 
Fuck him. 
You look around the hotel room for something sharp; a pair of scissors, a wine opener, a fork, anything. You spot the small pair of scissors you use to trim your nails with on the nightstand and grab them before stabbing one of the tiny blades into the soft material of the hoodie. 
Fuck him. 
Your vision turns blurry as tears well up in your eyes for the second time this evening, but the tiny bit of relief you feel from ruining something of Aemond’s is intoxicating. 
You put your fingers through the small holes you’d made in the fabric and pull with all your strength, ripping the shirt over and over until it’s nothing but a pile of scraps of fabric. 
Fuck him.
A/N: Thank you for readig! 🫶
403 notes · View notes
steveslevis · 8 months ago
Text
‘tis the damn season
AUTUMN
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chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 
There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 
The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 
“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 
“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”
—————————
The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 
You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 
“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“
“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.
“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“
“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 
The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 
“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 
You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
—————————
It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 
It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.
“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 
“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 
There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 
“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 
“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 
“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”
You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 
“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 
“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 
—————————
You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 
This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 
There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 
Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 
“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 
His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 
He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”
“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
—————————
The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 
“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 
“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”
“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”
“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”
“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 
You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 
“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
—————————
After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
---------
tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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kadwrites · 1 year ago
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an introduction | T.S
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summary ; you meet your husband to be for the first time.
warnings ; angst, dysfunctional family ig? , arranged marriage trope. bad writing?
a/n ; is it good? is it bad? is it too long? who knows. thank you for the support <3 please let me know what you think!
_
you hadn't left your room for the past three days. celest would be there , feeding you, holding you as you cried.
tonight though, you couldn't sleep because the sounds of your siblings yelling is keeping you away from the slumber you very much needed.
"you did what?"
oliver's brows furrow, his very pregnant wife , renee , sits beside him, her eyes open wide and a hand on her belly.
his mother tries to act like she didn't feel the guilt clawing at her heart , she sips her tea, "it's about time she got a husband."
"mum , what were you thinking? what has gotten into you?" his voice isn't loud, it isn't his usual roar, which is what concerned his wife. she puts a hand on his shoulder "you're forcing 'er to marry thomas shelby? are you fucking insane? have you lost your bloody mind?"
"im not forcing her to do anything, she agreed."
"after ya slapped 'er."
celest lets out a chocked sob at the mention of that
his mother's eyes are stern when they look up at him, resenting the fact that he brought it up
"she's a wild girl, she raised her voice at me"
"what did you expect 'er to do?" he got up, and his wife desperately tries to calm him down "lay on 'er back and open 'er legs?"
"to obey her mother."
"the mother that treated 'er own daughter like a piece of meat?" his jaw clenched, his hands shake "how could you do that? you didn't even tell us anything."
abraham is pacing around. his girlfriend ,anna stands in the doorway, watching this unfold. what else was she supposed to do?, its not like she can do anything. celest is sitting on a chair, her face buried in her hands as she cries. their father wasn't at home, he was out visiting his brother.
he's been avoiding this very incident like the plaque.
"when did this even 'appen?" abraham walks and stands next to oliver, both of them staring at their mother, his voice trembles as he tries to hold back whatever he had to say.
"why does it matter?" their mother slams the teacup on the table "it's already happened. what good is it going to do if we keep talking about it?"
"how long 'ave you been plottin' at this?" oliver's voice gets louder, his wife tries to get up but cant, abraham grabs his shoulder instead. "are you that desperate for money?"
"i did it-"
"for 'er ? securing 'er a future, yeah? is that what you tell yourself?" celest finally speaks, her face glistening with tears as she stands up
celest was always her mother's daughter. being the eldest, she always aimed to please her but when this happened, she couldn't even stand to look at her mother. she knew their mother was looking for a suitor ,she tried to reason with her, telling her how her younger sister would never agree, that she'll just yell and maybe even try to run away. celest never knew that the suitor her mother had in mind was thomas shelby, she never knew that he'd already agreed to all of this.
their mother's eyes move to celest, renee and anna share a look , and anna stands with her mouth covered. "this is not going to end well." ,they both think.
"what?"
"i said is that what you think you're doing? that you're doing whats best for 'er?" celest repeats "when you and i and everyone in this room knows who thomas shelby is, we know what he does, we know how he lives"
"he will take care of her." she raises her voice as well
"mother...." abraham warns, with his eyes closed. he knows the words she will say next would just anger everyone further
"i dont want her to end up like you! with a man that has you living in a piss poor excuse of a house, running after his spawn." her mother spits those words out like venom.
"i love 'im, i chose 'im, and i never ever regretted that decision, i never once complained,i never doubted his love or loyalty" celest walks closer "i will live a good life with a man who is good to me, an honest man. would she say the same about the husband you chose for 'er?"
"she will love him! she will grow to love him" she yells those words, as if she desperately wants them to be true.
celest lets out a chuckle , looking at her mother as if she was insane "do you not hear yourself? do you not hear how you sound?" then she moves even closer,"you're ruining 'er life!" celest cried, her screams sound through the whole house, abraham is now holding her back, as she squirms and thrashes "is this what you fucking want ? for your own child to live a miserable life?"
oliver left the living room at some point and he was inside your room now, somehow.
he crouched at the side of the bed, where you're laying on your stomach, cheek against the pillow and covers tucked up to your neck.
"i..." he tries to speak, he lets out a breath "i didn't know" he felt guilty for some reason, as if he could've stopped this.
"i know"
"you don't 'ave to say yes" he puts a hand on your head smoothing down your hair. oliver was never the one for affection, always awkward with it. "you don't. you can say no"
"i cant" you whisper back to him, your eyes look at him and they are once again filled with tears, your lips quiver
"yes you can"
"no i can't" you let out a sob "and you know that."
he just looks back at you, keeps on smoothing down your hair
"its not your responsibility to save them."
"it is now"
and he knew he couldn't change your mind, "she says he's comin' by tomorrow ,to see you."
silence ensues. you two just stare at each-other not knowing what to say
for the first time in his life, oliver the man with the biggest mouth, the loudest voice, the one who always fought you over that one spot on the table, doesn't know what to say. he has nothing to say.
he slowly gets up, and leaves the room, closing the door behind him gently.
and when that dreaded morning comes, you find yourself on your vanity chair, looking at your reflection in the mirror, your face still almost emotionless
celest stands behind you, brushing your hair,she's crying silently, and you just stare at the mirror
you knew that those steps belonged to your mother, you'd memorized how they sounded when you were a child , when you pretended to be asleep so she wouldn't know you'd stayed awake past your bedtime. she walks and stands next to celest, you don't look at her, you just stare at yourself.
celest puts the brush on the table and she walks away, she walks to the window, trying to calm down. your mother picks up the brush.
"i know you think im cruel, and that i'm selfish. but i did it for your sake." she speaks
this is the first time you'd even seen her since it all happened
your eyes dart up to her, she doesn't look at you, she just looks down at your hair as she brushes it.
"when your father got sick, i never thought we'd lose the farm too, we lost the very thing that gave us most of our money." she pauses for a second "i know this isnt how you wanted to get married, it was not an easy decision for me either"
"i don't love 'im" your voice is soft, its not angry
"love isn't everything, you don't need it to be content" she continues "i didn't love your father when i married him , but love follows"
"he is nothing like my dad"
your mother stops again "he's a hardworking man, he was in the war , wasn't he? just like yer father."
"my father was a farmer," she muttered "that's what you loved about 'im, what you've come to love. that he is a good man but the man you're marrying me off to isn't"
you sound like celest.
your words cut deeper than you thought they would, your mothers eyes close, she sighs "you're my youngest child and i want you to live a good life when me and your father are no longer here .a safe life. i dont want you to need a roof over your head or worry about money or food"
you don't want to argue , so you don't. you just let her brush your hair and neatly style it. she brings a box and opens it, inside it a golden necklace with a ruby as a pendant, she puts it on you, she smiles at your reflection
"i wore it when i married your father", maybe it will bless your marriage too, your mother thinks to herself.
you don't say anything, you just do what you're told. you were too tired to fight this anyways. you just wanted this day to pass
and then you hear it, your brother's voice as he greets him, despite his anger your oliver sounds polite. their voices are muffled but you hear them.
you mother walks you down the stairs and when you descend you see him, on the green sofa , talking to your father and your brothers and as if he could sense your presence his eyes dart up the stairs and he sees you.
you feel as if the whole house ran out of air, and as if your lung collapsed. you look back at him nonetheless as you walk down the stairs.
it feels as if their voices are distant as your family greets him, very welcoming and warm they sound but you can't process a word. you just look at him. you think you mumbled a greeting too, you're not sure.
he got up when you entered the living room, he looks you up and down but only for an instant and then his eyes go back to yours. you cannot see any emotion on his face.
you sister stands at your side, renee on the other, they sit with you between them on the couch facing him, the rest of your family scattered around the room but you didn't look at them, too busy looking at the man you'll marry. it's almost as if you can visibly see the blood on his hands.
but when he speaks , you snap back into reality out of your trance
"its a pleasure to finally meet you."
his voice is deep, calm and collected. for some reason it sends a chill down your spine
"the pleasure is mine" you say back, as politely as you could.
slowly, person by person, your family leaves the room
you glance at the window, your brothers and father are outside smoking, pretending to not watch. celest, renee and anna are under the foyer.
your mother and mrs gray are in the kitchen, having tea, when did she come in here?, you didn't even notice her.
you lean back against the sofa, you stare at him just like he stares at you
"mind if i smoke?" he already has his cigarette between his lips , he pulls out his lighter
"no" you say curtly , you sit on the sofa in the most expensive dress you own, your newest heels,
he offers you a cigarette, you eye it. you hadn't smoked since your parents caught you smoking on the roof but they've disappointed you, so what if you disappoint them one more time
you pull a cigarette out, he passes you the light and you light it, then putting it out
he leans back as well, crossing his legs
"are you good with children? can you care for them?"
you nod, your cigarette hangs between your fingers"i 'ave one nephew and 4 nieces, one on the way too"
"i 'ave a boy"
his eyes give nothing away no matter how long you stared at him , looking for a crack in the mask
"what's his name?" you ask softly
"charles"
"how old is he?"
"four, he's turning five soon"
"is that why you're looking for a wife? to look after your son?"
"thats a part of it, yes" he exhales the smoke, he throws an arm around the back of the sofa
"what's the other part?"
"i need a wife and i want someone i can trust around my boy when im not around"
you nod , your eyes look away for the first time.
"do you feel like you can do that?"
you turn back to look at him
"i believe so , yes"
he nods, "are you being forced into this?" he's blunt. it doesn't take a genius to know that you're not happy, that you're reluctant.
"no, i'm not"
"i don't want to marry you if you're unwilling"
"i said i'm not ,didn't i?" you tried to hold back your tongue, but you couldn't
his brow raises at this ,"you don't exactly look like you're content with your decision"
"is this an interrogation?" you ask, stubbing the cigarette on the ashtray that sits on the table. partly because the taste of it made you nauseous, having not had one in years. the other part annoyed and defensive
"i believe its called an introduction" a his face is still stoic, but his voice is betraying him, it's sounds as though he's amused.
you look up, you hate to admit it but you can't deny it. he looks handsome, in his expensive suit, his glasses, his cheek bones. celest was right, at least he is easy on the eyes
"an introduction, aye?"
"hmm"
you just look at eachother, you blink a couple of times, then lean back again.
"its my decision, mr shelby." you try to compose yourself, "it wasn't forced on me,"
he nods again,
"do you 'ave any conditions?"
"i do..." you lick your lips nervously "my father, he's sick"
"i will take care of his medical expenses" he nods before you could finish that sentence
"it would be nice if i could finish my own fucking sentences"
he lets out a dry chuckle, and you take it as a sign to continue
"he's never been properly checked , we don't know what exactly is wrong with 'im" you sigh "my only condition is that 'im and my mother would be looked after, financially and medically."
"they will be"
"i want it in writing" you hesitate but then say it anyways , you don't know if you can trust him, you don't care if you offend him.
he looks at you, his eye travel between yours "alright"
you let out a breath you didn't know you've been holding
-
@tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator
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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 months ago
Text
Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 1
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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader)Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3631 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.
Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together. 
But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.
Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.
However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.
Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?
~~~
(21 years old)
'All right, team,' Y/N Prince addressed her small group of young heroes. 'Good work today. Now go hit the showers and enjoy a nice quiet night in. You've earned it.'
'So crash!' Bart cried with an energetic jump. If anyone were to guess how the team's week had been solely based on Bart's energy, they would've said it had been cruisy. Not that Y/N had led a covert task force over the past week into Bialya to take down meta-human trafficking outposts.
Y/N watched with pride as Bart and Jaime bantered on their way out, followed by Stephanie and Cassie chatting excitedly about something, all the while Tim and Cassie held hands quietly. It had surprised the team a little how, out of the blue, the two of them were dating. But if Wally's death had taught them all anything, it was that time was too precious to waste in their line of work. They'd been together ever since.
Two years, Y/N mentally noted, and suddenly the adrenaline she'd been running on for the past week died as the last of the team exited the entrance chamber of the Watchtower. Exhaustion weighed down on her spent body, but an extra weight now sat in heart. Has it really been that long already?
So much had changed in that time. Like how the Young Justice began working out of the Watchtower alongside the Justice League, having both the Hall of Justice and Mount Justice destroyed by the Reach and the Light respectively. M'gann and Connor were back together, having finally gotten over their differences and accepted their mistakes. Also, Kaldur had been offered a position in the Justice League following the retirement of his king, and so Kaldur took his place as the new Aquaman in the Justice League. M'gann was promoted to new team leader, with Connor and Y/N assisting her as senior members of the team.
Some things had remained the same, however. Like the team's energy and slight dysfunction that always made Y/N feel at home. They weren't perfect, but what family ever is?
Dick was still gone. So was Artemis. She'd, understandably, retired as Green Arrow's protégé immediately after Wally's death, assuming her undercover identity Tigress instead and going off on her own. Neither had stayed in touch with anyone on the team.
You're my best friend. Always have been, always will be...
'Yeah right,' Y/N mumbled bitterly as she made her way to the conference room. No doubt that'd be where M'gann and Connor were waiting for her to debrief the mission.
Upon entering the room with the long table, she was immediately embraced by M'gann. 'Welcome back,' she said, squeezing Y/N tighter. 'We're so glad you're okay.'
Y/N smiled softly as she embraced M'gann in return. 'You ever doubted me?'
'No,' Connor answered, 'but you can never be too cautious right?'
Y/N let go of M'gann to hug Connor as well. Since getting back together, Connor wasn't as emotionally suppressed as he'd initially been. It was nice seeing him this way, more happy and free. The same effect had happened to M'gann, who (only around the team and the Justice League) revealed her white martian self proudly instead of pretending to be something she wasn't.
'You're right,' Y/N said as she released him, then the three of them took a seat to discuss the mission.
The debrief didn't take long, there wasn't much to report on as all out-posts had been hit successfully, putting Queen Bee's meta-human trafficking at least a little behind.
'It's not much, but it's the best we could do with the little information we got,' Y/N admitted. 'I dislike Queen Bee and her minions as much as the next person, but I've got to give it to her, she knows how to keep things under wraps.'
M'gann reached across from where she sat and closed her hand over Y/N's. 'Y/N, the mission was a success,' M'gann insisted. 'And what's most important is that you brought everyone home. Alive.'
Y/N heard the underlying fear in her words, the memory she was thinking of as she spoke them. Y/N twisted her hand over to clasp M'gann's in return. 'I know,' she said softly. 'But I just... we haven't so much as put a dent into the underbelly of meta-human trafficking in the two years it's been running. Somedays... Somedays I just feel so useless.'
'I know, Y/N,' Connor reassured. 'But we've just got to trust that our hard work will pay off eventually. I know it doesn't seem like much now, but every mission counts. Don't be so hard on yourself.'
Y/N withdrew her hand at the comment, hastily standing up. 'Don't be hard on myself? My mother is Wonder Woman, is the Champion of Themyscira, a World War II hero, and had already saved the world once by my age now. My father was a fighter pilot in the Iran-Iraq war and died fighting for his country,' she said angrily. 'And what am I doing? Hiding under the protection of darkness, taking out small outposts that will just be rebuilt elsewhere just as quickly? How can I not be hard on myself?'
At M'gann's taken aback expression, Y/N felt slightly guilty for raising her voice. But they just didn't understand. All her life, she'd been training and fighting for her supposed "destiny". Surely this wasn't it.
'I'm sorry,' Y/N said, forcing herself to calm down. 'I just...'
'You don't have to a apologise,' M'gann interrupted, standing and walking over to Y/N to clasp their hands together. 'After all we've done together, I understand that what we do now doesn't seem like enough. But I can tell you were made for more.'
Y/N offered her a grateful smile and M'gann let their hands drop. 'I should go. Mother and I have patrol in Washington DC tonight.'
'Already?' M'gann asked, face dropping with disappointment. 'But you just got back. Surely she knows that.'
'Unfortunately, even in the country's capital, crime never sleeps. I'm just grateful it's nothing like Gotham,' Y/N said.
'I agree,' Connor said. 'Visited there once with-' He paused for a moment, eyes growing wary as he looked between Y/N and M'gann. But Y/N already knew what he was going to say and gave him a slight nod to continue anyway. 'With Dick. We did patrol once there together. To put it simply, they're all nutcases there.'
Y/N managed an amused half-smile. 'You're not wrong there,' she said, then made her way to the door. Before she reached the doorknob, M'gann called out.
'Maybe when you're free next, you can join us for dinner at home,' she offered, her eyes hopeful as she waited Y/N's answer.
'Yeah,' she eventually answered though it wasn't as enthusiastic as she should've been. 'Yeah, that'd be nice. I'll talk to you guys soon. Don't stay up here too late.'
It had to be close to 7pm in Washington DC at least, so there weren't many people still left in the Watchtower. Just those from the League and her team that were rostered for overnight supervision. Y/N made sure to greet each person she walked by on the way to the Zeta-tubes. But just as she was about to dial in her code to leave, a resounding voice made her pause.
'Wonderess,' Kaldur called. 'Not even a hello before you head off for another mission?'
Y/N smirked as she turned back around to face the new hero of Atlantis. 'I'm sorry, Aquaman,' she said in an exaggerated tone. 'Not all of us can sit around having team parties with our Justice League buddies.'
To anyone else, it would've been taken as an insult. But Kaldur saw her humour and smiled. 'Oh is that what this is about? You know the League do more than just chit chat.'
Y/N shook her head. 'I don't know. The mess you guys left behind in the conference room before I left tells another story.'
As Kaldur approached Y/N, the sarcastic banter dropped as they both embraced each other. Kaldur had grown into a fit, muscular man, and now stood a good head taller than Y/N. His uniform was more or less the same as it had always been, except now both his arms were covered from shoulder-to-finger in gold armour. He certainly was no longer just a young lad, but the man his predecessor saw he could become.
'It is good to see you, Y/N,' Kaldur said softly as he pulled away.
'And you, old friend,' Y/N replied, a genuine smile splitting her lips.
'I heard you went into Bialyan territory,' Kaldur continued. 'I am glad to see you and the rest of the team are unharmed.'
'Well, the team are no longer just children' Y/N said, 'but it was a simple enough mission too. Nothing too dangerous.'
Kaldur's brows furrowed together as he looked over Y/N. 'I sense you are not happy with something. Wasn't the mission successful as I have heard?'
Y/N let out a soft sigh. 'It's not that I'm not happy with the mission's success. Of course I'm happy we all got home okay. I just...' She didn't really feel like explaining herself again, but Kaldur nodded in understanding.
'You feel stuck,' he finished, to which Y/N nodded in confirmation. Kaldur turned so he could look to the giant windows of the Watchtower's entrance chamber. They framed Earth in a way that made it seem both ginormous and insignificant at the same time. 'The League is in a similar position, I am afraid to admit. Some days there is progress. Other days, it feels like I wait so much I am afraid I will freeze in one spot.'
'How do you combat that?' Y/N asked.
Kaldur turned back to Y/N, his face softened with a small smile. 'I train.'
'That's it?' Y/N asked, not quite believing her friend.
He shrugged his shoulders. 'Amongst other things, yes. I train, I go home, I see my family, I laugh with my friends. I do all these things to remind myself why I am here. Why I do what I do. It sounds to me like you need to remind yourself why you are here.'
'Because of the team,' she said without hesitation. He hadn't asked a question, but she felt she needed to justify herself. 'Because I can't just desert them, not when they're working so hard.'
'And yet you feel you are not doing enough,' Kaldur countered, his teal eyes gazing hard at her. 'Why?'
Y/N opened her mouth to answer but no answer came.
'Y/N,' Kaldur continued. 'Why do you feel the need to stay when you don't want to be there?'
'I do want to stay-'
'Don't lie to me, Y/N,' Kaldur interrupted.
Y/N swallowed thickly as she looked from Kaldur, to the conference room door where M'gann and Connor still were, and back to Kaldur. Seeing no escape from his fierce questioning, she caved.
'It's not that I don't want to stay,' she admitted quietly. 'I love the kids, I love the team. I'm just... so tired, Kaldur. Of doing the same thing week in and week out and getting nowhere. But if I leave, I don't want the team to think I'm abandoning them. Not like-'
Y/N bit her lip at the thought of him. No, she wouldn't leave. She just wouldn't.
Kaldur pressed his lips into a firm line. 'Dick needed to reforge his own path. He was grieving in his own way.'
'Well I was grieving, too,' Y/N countered, a sudden surge of anger flaring up inside her. How dare Kaldur defend Dick. 'And I had to get on with my life because the team needed me. We needed him, Kaldur. I needed him, and he just left.'
Y/N bowed her head to collect her thoughts and calm down. That's two friends she had yelled at for no reason. Before she could apologise though, Kaldur placed a hand on her shoulder, and she raised her head to find him looking directly into her eyes.
'I cannot say I am not also disappointed in our friend,' Kaldur admitted sadly. 'I did not expect him to become so closed off for so long. But you've helped rebuild this team from the grief and pain it experienced when Wally died. I think you've earned the right to decide where you go from here, Y/N, without feeling guilty or selfish if your wish is not to stay with the team. In my opinion, you were made for more than this.'
'That's funny,' Y/N said in a flat voice. 'You're the second person today to tell me that.'
'Maybe because it is true,' Kaldur said sincerely. 'You know you still have a place in the Justice League whenever you'd like to join us. I would be honoured and happy to fight alongside a warrior such as yourself again. It would be like old times.'
Y/N offered a grateful smile as she patted Kaldur's hand that still rested on her shoulder. 'Thanks Kaldur, but I'm not ready for that just yet. Besides, you don't need two Amazonians running the show. And let's be real, we would so be in charge of you boys.'
The two shared quiet laughter as Kaldur's hand retuned to his side. 'Very well, then. So what will your decision be, Wonderess?'
Y/N looked to the Earth and space beyond it once more. Her heart and head were tearing her in two. She truly loved being a part of the team, but something inside her agreed with M'gann and Kaldur. Surely she was meant for more. But what exactly that was, she had to go find out.
'I think you're right, Kaldur,' she finally said, turning back to face her friend. 'I think I need to remind myself why I am here in the first place. And that comes from knowing who I am to begin with.'
Kaldur's face pinched in slight confusion. 'I'm sorry, but I do not follow.'
Y/N didn't answer straight away. Instead, she turned to dial in her code to exit the Watchtower. 'B-00: Wonderess,' the computer announced as the Zeta-tube activated.
She then finally turned back to Kaldur. 'I need to know where I've been to then know where I will go,' she said. 'I need to go back to where it all started.'
'And where's that?' Kaldur asked.
'With my mother,' she answered, then spared him one last sweet smile. 'Tell M'gann and Connor and the team I'm sorry.'
Kaldur looked as if he wanted to say something, ask more questions. But Kaldur was always more insightful than the rest of their group. He didn't always need an explanation. He just somehow knew, and so Y/N was grateful when he accepted her words with a simple nod of his head.
'Be safe, dear friend,' he said in farewell. 'May destiny be kind to you, wherever it leads you.'
Y/N nodded her appreciation and entered the Zeta-tube. It was always a weird sensation travelling by Zeta-tube, like a million light pricks into every part of the body. Thankfully the trip was quick to the Zeta tube depot in Washington DC, with Y/N walking out of an abandoned janitor's closest in the post office down the road from her apartment.
She smiled and waved down to civilians as she flew over the busy streets, but she flew as fast as she could to the meeting point.
Her mother casually sat atop the Washington Monument as Y/N approached, floating just in front of her. 'I was starting to worry you had gotten caught in Bialya,' Diana joked as she stood to greet her daughter. 'Welcome home, my daughter.'
'Good to see you, Mother,' Y/N said, and the two briefly embraced.
'Now that you're here,' Diana said, prepping to take off for the usual patrol, 'why don't we get going.'
'Actually, Mother, there is something I wanted to talk to you about first,' Y/N interrupted.
Diana raised an eyebrow. 'Really? And what would that be?'
Y/N took a deep breath in before she spoke the words. But when she did, she had never been more sure. 'I want you to take me back to your home. To Themyscira.'
~~~
Since she was a little girl, Y/N had heard hundreds of stories from her mother about the homeland of the Amazons. How beautiful it was with its architecture, its nature, and the women who ruled the island. She'd always dreamed of someday going there, but her mother said it was impossible to find it.
Except she failed to mention that despite leaving the island and forgetting where it was located, Diana had been gifted a compass that would always lead her back home, but only if she used it. It would not work without Amazonian hands.
So after all the storytelling and all the dreaming, nothing came close to actually witnessing Themyscira in the flesh.
Y/N stood speechless on the beach, looking up at the steps that led up to the first level of the city that seemed to climb higher and higher towards the sky. It was something out of the Ancient Greek text books Diana used to make Y/N read as a child, but even more fantastical and wondrous.
It wasn't just the visuals, though. Since the Invisible Jet broke through the barrier that hid Themyscira, Y/N had felt a pull of sorts towards the island. Now that she stood on its soil, she felt a warm energy wash over her, strengthen her, pull her into its embrace as if to say, Welcome home at last.
An entourage of women in red leather slitted skirts, plated tops, and armour while holding spears followed behind a woman dressed in white and purple robes. Ebony hair billowed out behind her golden leaf crown, the grey strands in between looking more silver as they caught the midday sun.
Y/N knew immediately who she was. Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. Her grandmother.
As Hippolyta approached Y/N and Diana, she opened her arms to take her daughter's face into her hands. 'Diana,' she said, bringing her lips to her daughter's forehead in a simple kiss. 'Welcome home.'
'Thank you, Mother,' Diana said, and Y/N could tell by her mother's smile that she was joyous to be home. 'I'm sorry it took me so long.'
'Do not worry about that, child,' Hippolyta reassured. 'You are here now.'
She then looked over to Y/N, and for some reason Y/N straightened up, flattened out her Wonderess uniform, made sure her hair was tucked behind her headband. Y/N was briefly taken back to the time she (consciously) remembered meeting her grandparents on her father's side. All dressed up so as to make a good impression.
Y/N held her breath as Hippolyta walked slowly over to her, grey eyes scanning every inch of Y/N's figure in silence. When she'd done a cursory glance, she then stepped closer and took Y/N's face into her hands. Y/N was unable to look away from Hippolyta as the older woman caressed and poked and prodded at her features.
At last, Hippolyta stopped and her hands dropped to Y/N's shoulders. A kind, joyous smile graced the older woman's features. 'You have my daughter's eyes,' she said quietly, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. 'So kind and forthright. What is your name child?'
'Y/N Prince,' Y/N managed to get out once she caught her breath. 'Daughter of Steve Trevor...' Her gaze flickered to her mother, and the two shared a smile. '...and Diana Prince, Princess of Themyscira.'
Y/N looked back to see Hippolyta tearing up as realisation finally hit her. 'I have a granddaughter,' she said as she finally embraced Y/N completely, to which Y/N reciprocated and the entourage of Amazonians cheered and smashed their shields with their spears in celebration.
Hippolyta let go of Y/N to clasp one of her hands as she went to grab her daughter's hand. She then turned the three of them to face the crowd. 'My daughter and your champion, and my granddaughter have come home!'
More cheers erupted.
'Let us prepare a feast in their honour,' Hippolyta continued, and when the crowd began to disperse, she turned to Diana and Y/N to speak more quietly. 'I am sure you have both come here for a reason, and not just to say hello.'
'You are correct, Mother,' Diana said. 'It seems as though I have neglected our origins as Amazonians for too long and can no longer teach Y/N our ways.'
'I wish to learn who I am,' Y/N added. 'I wish to know where I come from, so that I may know where I must go next.'
'And how long do you believe that will take?' Hippolyta asked.
'As long as it takes,' Y/N answered, more certain than ever before. 'I don't care what I must do, Your Majesty. I will follow your guidance, as my mother once did.'
Hippolyta considered Y/N for a moment, then spared Diana an impressed smirk. 'Well, you taught her one thing, Diana.'
'What's that mother?' Diana asked.
'Your steadfast stubbornness.' Hippolyta looked back to Y/N. 'Very well, granddaughter. You will train among the other warriors. I just hope you know it won't be as easy as you might think.'
'Trust me,' Y/N replied, 'I'm hoping it isn't.'
Hippolyta's smile widened and her eyes sparkled with excitement. 'That attitude is already a good start. Come, we will talk of this later. First, let us celebrate this homecoming.'
That night Y/N ate and drank and danced among women like her, some older, some younger, some taller, some stronger. And she had never felt more at home, more recognised and celebrated. She'd had her doubts if she had made the right decision, but now she had no doubt.
She was where she belonged.
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thelov3lybookworm · 7 months ago
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Journals
Summary: everyone is happy
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: heavyyyy angst, sad lil fic (literally what i named this before i came up with a title), mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm, self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything
A/n: based on this and this poetry by @gardenofrunar 🤭 you couldnt tell it was me could you pookie?
also, there is not really a bat boy our reader is supposed to be with, so im tagging this as all three of them. there will most probably not be a second part to this, but still, lemme know hat you all think
AND, im not trying to glorify what reader is going through in this fic. if you are going through something, please talk to someone. you are not alone, my loves ❣️
anyways, enjoyyyy!!
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It was happening again.
The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.
And the worst part wasn't the fact that she felt like she was dying.
It was that she was alone. Again.
No one was coming. No one cared. No one would even realise she was gone until it was too late, and maybe that was a miracle.
Click.
The haze cleared slightly, and gasping for breath, Y/n stood, somehow making it to the stairs leading to her bedroom before her lungs constricted again.
She had no other option as she crumbled on the stairs, the hard wood digging into her sides and thighs.
She could not breathe.
She could not think.
She could not move.
She could not breathe.
A cruel laugh broke through her consciousness, the sound so familiar yet so foreign, Y/n could not help but sob.
You deserve this.
Azriel. It was him, no doubt. But the longer she sat there, other voices started joining in.
First Cassian. Then Mor, Rhysand. Amren.
Feyre, Nesta. Elain.
"Stop." She whispered, her hands shaking as she rose them to her ears, pressing as hard as she could. But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the clearer the words became.
You deserve this.
You don't deserve us.
It's your own fault.
In an attempt to get away, to get some peace and quiet, she reached out, clutching the stair. The wood grains whispered against her palm, their sound lost to ears filled with taunts and laughter.
Still, she dug in her fingers, her nails screaming in protest, her heart yelling back in a horrific screech, beating loud enough to almost drown out her family.
Almost.
Pulling herself up, she reached out her hand, ignoring the pain as she did her best to haul her dysfunctional body up the hard terrain, trying to make it to her bed before she lost herself fully to the dark depths of her mind, losing all sense of her being.
Somehow, having no recollection of the climb, Y/n collapsed at the landing, her breathing erratic as she stared at the blurry paintings on the wall, gifted to her by Rhysand's mate.
Had they always been this blurry?
In the back of her mind, she realised that they were never blurry. There were just tears in her eyes, but she didn't think too much about that as she crawled forward, miraculously crossing the threshold to her room, the familiar smell of flowers Elain had gifted her last week pulling her out of her misery for a moment, enough to let her get up and stumble into the plush material of her bed before tears again erupted in her eyes.
They then came back, screaming in her ears about how much of a disappointment she was, how she deserved no happiness.
And she agreed with them.
But still, it hurt her heart to hear the people she cared for voice thoughts she only limited to the darkness of night, under the gentle presence of the moonlight.
You don't deserve happiness.
She knew the inevitable onslaught of her self hatred was about to break over her head, knew it was unavoidable and would probably have her moping for days.
Her mind started wandering, which in itself was alarming because as much as she wanted to stop thinking about her miserable life, she knew that any and all thoughts she had at these times would only work against her.
Rhys's tear stained cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and his quiet sobs as he clutched Y/n's hands between both of his, Y/n's soft cooing as she tried her best to soothe his wounds after his mother and sister's death.
As she held him after his return from under the mountain.
This was going to be a long night, she was sure.
Cassian's grumpy self refusing to eat after one of the Illyrians had again bullied him for not being good enough. Y/n's cheeks aching from how hard she was trying not to smile as she tried to convince the overgrown illyrian to eat something.
Azriel's shaky hands as she held onto him after a particularly bad nightmare that usually started keeping him up around the time his hands were burned, the anniversary o the time where an innocent little boy realised that the world was filled with cruelty.
Y/n being the first one to find out about Mor's liking in women and helping her sneak out to meet her lovers.
Y/n dragging gallons of fresh blood to Amren's apartment under the cover of the night when she knew the ancient being hadn't had the time to feast.
Her hands scrambled to find something to tether herself to, to remind her that this was not real and that it would pass. That her family did love her, and that they would never hurt her or want her to think this way of herself.
They would never hurt her the way she hurt herself.
They just wouldn't... would they?
Rhys's wide smile as he admired his mate while she spoke to a grinning Cassian, who in turn turned to Azriel to tease the blushing Illyrian. Mor, giggling over her glass of wine as she mumbled something to Elain, Nesta and Amren conversing in hushed tones next to the window, happiness shining on both their faces.
And Y/n watched on, huddled in her own little corner as she gulped down another glass of champagne, trying to focus on the burn in her throat as the liquor travelled down. Trying not to think of the way her breathing started coming in shorter pants, her lungs constricting in the too small rib cage that were set on killing her.
Trying to ignore the tang of copper in her mouth as she bit her own tongue, not wanting to speak and draw attention to herself, to ask for help because she was too unused to suffering in silence. Her family had always been there, and she had never had to go even a day without their constant nagging. She always had at least one of them guiding her through the worst of her days.
Trying not to think of how no one even glanced up as she exited the room, tears prickling her eyes, feeling like she was nothing but an intruder, watching from outside the warmth of the house, standing knee deep in the cold snow as she tried her best to keep warm by looking at the happy faces of her family, no matter how much she was freezing on the inside.
Her fingers curled around the lumpy material of her comforter, and she pushed forward, trying to ignore the tears that rolled down her warm cheeks and buried her head in the soft fabric.
And then let out the ear piercing scream she had been holding in, uncaring that she had let down the sound shield around her room.
She knew no one was around to hear.
She knew no one would come.
They were all too happy to worry.
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Her stomach was grumbling, and she was glad it was because otherwise it would've been the cause for concern, considering she hadn't eaten in almost a day.
She was still so tired and wanted to do nothing but lay in bed all day and cry, but she needed to eat too.
And so here she was, chopping up some vegetables in a daze, not really paying attention despite wanting to focus on something that took her mind off of her thoughts.
It was not easy to stop thinking, so when suddenly the fog in her mind cleared, she glanced down.
The red of her blood was bright, and the longer she stared, the quicker the pain came, but it was only a tiny sting, nothing more than the bite of an ant in the shape of a knife.
She stared, and stared.
And then, she lifted her eyes, her gaze settling on her dagger, unprompted.
She smiled.
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Writing was one of the parts of Y/n's responsibilities. Writing a letter to help the relations between the courts. A report for the high lord.
It was one of the things that broke her out of her own mind's torture, one of the things that made her feel like she wasn't entirely useless.
So here she was, just scribbling away senseless words in her journal, knowing she would hide it away before anyone saw it. Saw the blood stains.
For the first time in weeks, she was smiling, no tears to be found in her eyes as she lay on her stomach on the bed, her legs in the air behind her as she began doodling little flowers in the corner of the page, her inkpot next to her and her dagger in her other hand.
She went to dip in her feather pen in the ink, frowning a little as it created spots of ink on the crumpled paper, mixing with the dark red liquid that still dripped slowly from her fingers, little rivulets running down from her wrist.
As she continued, a tap on her mental walls had her pausing, and after a brief conversation with Rhys, she got up, closing her journal and beginning to clean the cuts on her wrist and around the journal and then donning a flowy, simple white gown.
It wasn't long before a knock sounded at her door, and she hurried to open it to find Cassian standing on her front porch, smiling.
"Hey Y/n, Rhys asked me to pick you up-"
Y/n nodded. "Yes I know, let me just grab my things and then we can go."
He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe.
She ran up the stairs and to her bedroom, grabbing the little bag she had put all her pens and previous reports into, deciding to carry them with her just in case.
She hurried back out within a few moments, but she saw that Cassian had moved, standing near the gates. Which was suspicious, but not too alarming as she stepped onto the porch.
"Let's go."
Before she shut the door Y/n turned and glanced around the house for the last time. Why, she didn't know. But she couldn't shake the feeling in her gut that something was wrong.
And she had known to always trust her gut.
But she turned around, locking the door before leaving.
Not realising her journal was missing from the table.
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"I really don't want to pressure you too much Y/n, so if you don't want to be a part of this research, I understand-"
"Rhys, this is no burden. I'm actually honoured you even considered me for this project."
His brows furrowed, his smile turning confused. "What are you talking about Y/n? You're one of the smartest people I know. Of course you are included-" he trailed off, his eyes filling with understanding. "How have you been Y/n?"
Y/n blinked, pretending not to understand what he meant by that. Of course Rhys knew she struggled with feeling worthy of her family, and of course he made that connection.
"I've been good, Rhys." Y/n mumbled, an easy grin on her face as if Rhys's concern was ridiculous.
"Have you had any recent episodes-"
"Guess what I found!"
He paused, both their heads turning to where Cassian's booming voice floated through the cracked door.
Y/n's whole body ran cold, and before she could even question the reaction of her body to something that wouldn't have concerned her before, she was stumbling out the door, following Cassian's voice to the sitting room, where everyone else was gathered.
Cassian was grinning as he explained to them how he had gone to pick Y/n's up from her house, and how he found-
Her secret diary.
Y/n's eyes widened, her legs refusing to move as her gaze locked on the book Cassian held in his hand.
"Oh, look, she's here too!" He turned to her, his expression carefree and inviting. "Never knew you had a diary Y/n. What will I find if I read through it? Your secret lover's name? His-"
"Cass." Y/n warned, finally getting herself to move forward as he danced back, his hands beginning to crack open the book.
"Will I find your secret fantasies-"
He stopped dead in his tracks, all the emotions gone from his face as he stared at the page he had opened, his features hard. Y/n waited with bated breath, her head turning to gauge everyone's reaction.
Mor sat with Nyx in her lap, bouncing him as she glanced between Y/n and Cassian. Feyre and Azriel exchanged confused glances before Azriel stood, stalking towards Cass.
Panicked, Y/n jumped forward, but before her hand could wrap around her journal, he pulled away, face pale.
"What is this?"
"None of your business."
Azriel had stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Y/n.
That's when Y/n realised he had smelled the blood she left on the pages.
Damn it.
Y/n stepped back towards the exit as she felt all the eyes on her, panic starting to dig its claws in her gut and begin its ascent up her throat as the shadows curled around Azriel's ear and his eyes went to her wrist, covered by the long sleeves of her dress.
Y/n turned to find Rhys standing in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.
"Why?"
She glanced once at everyone, tears starting to fill her own eyes, her face flushing in embarrassment, mad that she had started crying over nothing, and pushed past Rhys, running towards the front door.
"Y/n!"
They will be mad.
You deserve it.
Y/n fled the river house, ignoring the concerned looks thrown her way by the people on the streets as she ran straight to her house.
They hate you.
The door slammed shut behind her as she leaned against it, gasping for breath as her lungs started contracting painfully, refusing to let her breathe.
The breathlessness was starting to creep up again on her.
It was happening again.
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Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686
@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1
@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21
@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes
@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria
@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat
@artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @milswrites @berryzxx
Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend
@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh
@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium
@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139
Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139
349 notes · View notes
zeroclockk · 6 months ago
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— ⋆˙⟡ Love Your Feeling (JJK)
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——— ⋆˙⟡
After ages of denying your feelings, you're finally getting to know your crush. But as you walk back to where you were chatting with him, you see him with another girl.
As the world sinks at your feet, your best friend is there to cheer you up again. Little do you know, that's just the beginning.
——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡
Status: on-going
Rating: 18+ || includes explicit content
Taglist || Nini's Library
Total word count: 31.7k
!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse
Chapter index↓
Chapter one || Cat Fights (6.6k)
We're going to a party!
Chapter two || Making Mistakes (6.6k)
Lets pretend nothing happened okay?
Drabble one || Beat Him To Death (701)
I wish I could beat him to death.
Chapter three || Cold (7k)
How long have you been out? You’re cold.
Chapter four || Handling it (7.3k)
How do you know, he won’t turn into Dad?
Drabble two || Joons Place (801)
You like her? Yeah I really do.
Chapter five || When JK meets Mom (4.2k)
Be careful, you don't know what he's capable of.
371 notes · View notes
sohnric · 3 months ago
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THIS KITCHEN IS FOR DANCING – k. sunwoo
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you never knew a kitchen was more than just a place to cook in.
pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader
genre: established relationship au (omg who is she..), hurt/comfort, domestic, fluff, tiniest bit of angst. slice of life !!
warnings: hinting at dysfunctional families, the reader has unspecified mental issues
wc: 1.7k
listen to: matilda by harry styles
a/n: thank u sm sweetie pie @csenke for beta reading in such a short time 💞 also this is very loosely inspired by the book happy all the time by laurie colwin!
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this fic is dedicated to my best friend @from-izzy 🤍 I originally wanted to write you something else (as you may know), but I hope even this small thing translates just how much you mean to me. happiest birthday to you, i love you so much
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The apartment grows silent after everyone leaves and the door is shut behind them, the only sound accompanying your thoughts being the water running in the kitchen sink, the song lowly playing through the radio and your boyfriend’s occasional, quiet humming as he helps you dry off the dishes and put them away into their respective cupboards. Not a single word was shared between the two of you since the guests departed your new place, your thoughts running a thousand miles per hour, eyes hypnotizing the tap as you focus on washing off all the food and grease remains off your cutlery. Your brain is buzzing with the memories of the past couple of hours, each moment replaying in the back of your head once, twice before it moves to another one, trapping you in an endless cycle of motion bouncing against the walls of your skull.
You relive the whole evening again. 
The sound of the doorbell ringing, a yelled-out “Surprise!” landing into your ears as the little crowd materializes at your doorstep. The kisses pressed to your cheeks, the potted plant forced into your hands, the kettle your boyfriend’s sister drags inside and places onto your kitchen counter without even asking you, plugging it in. The image of your boyfriend’s dad pressing Play on your old, beaten-up radio, the grin he sends you as he admires your empty apartment. 
The bottle of wine your boyfriend puts into your hold when you finally find a place to put the plant down, the soft, apologetic smile sent your way as he kisses the corner of your mouth. The sight of 3 pairs of shoes waiting next to the door, the sound of their socked feet shuffling across the floor. 
The side-hug his mother brings you into, her sweet words landing into your ears. “You made it look so pretty and homey,” she says.
You reply that the apartment is still half-empty and looks a little naked. She tells you it’s nothing a few picture frames won’t fix, and his sister suggests getting a colorful rug for your living room to brighten the space up a bit. You nod to her words, taking them all in.
You’re not used to all of this. 
People visiting you, people throwing you a housewarming party. People caring enough about your comfort to bring you kitchen appliances you lack and asking you if there’s anything more you need that their son forgot to mention when they asked. 
You’re not used to so much care. So much tenderness. To a family so loving their care feels kind of overbearing to your small, fragile heart.
“Are you mad at me?” Sunwoo asks through the endless stream of your thoughts, making you look up from the kitchen sink. You forgot he was here– but then again, where would the dishes be magically disappearing into if not his hands?
The question shocks you. Not because you don’t expect him to ask– just because you don’t really expect your own answer.
“No,” you shake your head, voice a little hoarse. Your eyes burn with emotion, turning into water pools begging to be tipped over if you don’t pay enough willpower to make the streams stop. You bite at your lower lip.
It doesn’t help.
“Then why are you crying?” he asks.
There’s no use stopping it now. There’s no use refusing the apartment that’s now warm from the body heat it received from all the people visiting it this evening. There’s no use rejecting something you never knew you wanted– something you never knew you needed. 
“Look, I’m sorry. I know you said you didn’t want anyone to visit for a bit before you get used to the new apartment and all, and you also wanted to have it fully done before anyone else saw it, but my parents insisted, and–”
“Thank you,” you utter out silently, like a prayer, making him stop in his tracks.
It’s only been a few months since you and Sunwoo started dating. Right from the start, the boy knew it would be different with you. He wouldn’t say it was difficult– no, loving you has always been easy for him– but he knew that he had to have much more patience with you.
His love is patient when he listens to your requests and boundaries. When he listens to you cry and picks up your calls even in the middle of the night, staying up with you until early morning just so you wouldn’t feel alone during your sleepless moments. Sunwoo’s love is patient when he gently holds you and kisses you slowly, setting the pace just right. His love is patient when he helps you pick out an apartment that’s just right for you– with the right size, location, on the right floor, not once thinking of his own convenience.
He always listens– just not this once. 
Somehow, you can’t find it in you to be mad at him.
You used to think you wanted the world to be quiet for a while. To stop– to leave you alone so you could breathe. You wanted your own place for yourself– your own space, uninvaded by anyone else, stranded from any contact. You used to think you don’t want guests over or family members helping with the move– not that the effort was made anyways.
You used to think you wanted a place for one– a quiet nook to bring you comfort, four silent walls to make you calm. A bedroom to make you sleep soundly, a living room with nothing but a TV and a sofa to keep you company. A kitchen to make food and a table to eat it at before you get off for work. That’s what you wanted.
But after the evening is over and your boyfriend’s family leaves the walls echoing with laughter, the radio playing lowly in the background, tea made from the new kettle waiting on your coffee table, steam warming up the place with gentle cinnamon, your heart squeezes on itself at the realization of just how wrong you were.
Sunwoo turns the water off as he walks closer to you, enveloping you in a tight hug. Your hands are dripping water up to your forearms, making wet puddles glisten onto the tiles of your kitchen floor, yet he doesn’t mind stepping his socks in and having your arms sneak around his waist, all your built-up emotion releasing as he gently rocks you to the beat of the music in the background– action something akin to reaching for your soft, tender heart into your ribcage and gently holding it in his palms, protecting it and keeping it safe.
You never knew you were made for love like this. 
You never knew you wanted two pairs of arms holding you to them, the smell of Sunwoo’s cologne clogging up your nose. You didn’t know all you needed was his presence to doze off on evenings that are difficult– a garden in his soul made for you to sleep safely. You never knew the sound of his voice was enough to fight off thunder and make sunlight cut through the clouds, like the sweet chirping of birds waking up in the morning.
You never knew you wanted a place that’s a walking distance from your boyfriend’s– just in case either of you wanted to quickly come over. You didn’t know you wanted a bedroom with soft sheets in it to cuddle in with someone, beams of sunlight dripping into the space through the blinds in the mornings caused by the location of the windows being towards the east. You didn’t know you wanted a living room decorated with gifted house plants and picture frames filled with people you care for the most. 
You didn’t know that a kitchen is more than just a place to cook in. You now realize, amongst all the other things, that your kitchen is now also a space for shared meals, chatter and a bottle of wine opened after a long day at work. 
Sunwoo’s low voice keeps humming the familiar song into your ear, rocking you from side to side. The dishes are long forgotten and your worries disappear like the last remains of rain puddles left outside after a storm on a sunny day. 
The gentle, patient love Sunwoo has for you slowly slips into your heart, mending all the damaged pieces back together and opening up your eyes to so many more things you wanted to stay blind to. You were patient for long enough, though– and you finally see it, right there in front of you, tangible and believable– after all of the love you put out into the world selflessly, tirelessly, it finally came back to you.
And it will stay.
Your new apartment– although you live alone– is a place for love and kindness. A new chapter for new memories, each one brighter than the other. This place is for you to come back to after a long day to rest your limbs and soul in the quiet comfort of it all. This place is made for two people that turn a simple house into a home.
This kitchen is not just for cooking food and heating up leftovers over a cup of coffee during lunchtime. Kim Sunwoo and his endless love show you that a housewarming party is nothing to be scared of if you don’t have an anxious, quiet voice in your ear constantly telling you that there will always be people waiting on the side to somehow ruin your special day for you.
This kitchen is for whispered conversations over sleepy mornings during the weekday. This kitchen is for making pancakes after making love, two arms sneaking around your waist from behind, naked chest pressed against your back. This kitchen is for washing the dishes together, a smiley boy helping you with even the simplest task. This kitchen is for laughter when you burn an omelet or overseason your food, trying out new meals. This kitchen is for matcha in the evenings, a worried pair of eyes rushing you to sleep instead. 
This kitchen is for love trapped between four walls, with no way for it to get out and disappear into the wind.
But tonight, most of all, you realize–
This kitchen is for dancing.
177 notes · View notes
wangxianficfinder · 21 days ago
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In the mood for...
Nov 1st
~*~
1. Hey so ITMF fics that A) have various sect leaders realize that the wens at the burial mounds are women, elderly and a child (not a threat to anyone) and DO Something about it! and B) any fics with heavy angst but happy ending. Last is C) any fics where wwx is abused/mistreated by lans or at cloud recesses
I know it’s a lot to ask and thank everyone who at least takes a look at my requests! @lonelyreverance
1A)
Blooming in white by luckymoonly (T, 38k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, MM/WQ, NMJ/LXC, NHS/JC, Canon Divergence, Mpreg, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, hidden pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Drama, Misunderstandings, Everyone Lives AU, Miscommunication, WWX and NHS are BFF, matchmaker NHS, Fix-It)
every breath that comes before by tardigradeschool (T, 10k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Poison, Golden Core Reveal, Sharing a Bed, Hair Brushing, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, WWX’s terrible self-esteem)
Green-gege Saves a lot of Lives by Eternal_writes (T, 11k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, WN & WWX, YLLZ WWX, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wen Remnants Live, Everyone Lives, Fix-It, Soft NMJ, POV NMJ, POV WWX, Supportive NMJ, Protective NMJ, NMJ solves all the problems unintentionally, NHS Knows Everything, NHS's spies are talked about alot, NHS manipulates from the shadows like the best friend he fucking is, NHS & WWX Friendship, Sworn Brothers NHS& WWX & WN, BSSR makes a small appearance at the very end, Immortal BSSR is the best grandmother, Golden Core Reveal, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Good Sibling JC, Soft JC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX Lives, WWX Loves LWJ, WWX is not as oblivious as canon, WWX gets the help he deserves and his family back, Featuring WWX's inventions)
while covered in mud by merthurlin (T, 12k, NHS & WWX, NHS & NMJ, NHS & Wen remnants, mentioned wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, NHS goes farming and Hates It)
We can fix that by Spindoctor (E, 85k, WangXianJue, Threesome - M/M/M, NMJ Lives, Arranged Marriage, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Caretaking, Light BDSM, Thigh jobs, Everyone Loves WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Starvation, Canon-Typical Violence, Starvation recovery, PTSD, PTSD RECOVERY, Suicidal Ideation, Scars, Discussion of Surgery, mild body horror, discussion of starvation, body talk, Nightmares, screaming ghosts, WWXs canonical cnc kink, cnc fantasies, Light Bondage, tender fucking, instead of talking about feelings, Slow Burn, JYL Lives, BAMF JYL, Erectile Dysfunction, Weight Gain, Chapter Specific Tags in Beginning Notes)
1B)
Rebirth of a Wretched Mayfly by marikazz (M, 15k, WangXian, Time Loop, Time Travel, Groundhog Day, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Trust Issues, Hurt WWX, Miscommunication, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Whump, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Okay, Mental Breakdown, Canon-Typical Violence, Existential Angst, Dissociation, Suicide, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, POV WWX)
Sunder by naqaashi (E, 32k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Mutual Pining, Emotional Sex, Porn with Feelings, PWP, Light BDSM, Fix-It, POV LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, Light Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Grief/Mourning, Five Stages of Grief, Suicidal Thoughts)
❤️ The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, xiyao, chengqing, romance, angst w/ happy ending, hurt/comfort, politics, revenge, families of choice, pining) This fic is already very canon-divergent (it's an AU where wwx is adopted by the Dafan Wen)
A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 146k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Demonic Cultivation, POV WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Night Hunts, Fate & Destiny, Bad Parent JFM & YZY, Golden Core, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Father-Son Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Pining WWX, WWX is Not Okay, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Pining LWJ, POV LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell Wangxian, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, WIP)
❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)
Birthday Party by waffles_4_breakfast (E, 102k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Slow Burn, Poison, Torture, Requited Unrequited Love, First Time, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Come as Lube, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Spit As Lube, Rimming, Consensual Non-Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)
The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 (M, 277k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Accidental Baby Acquisition During a Zombie Apocalypse, Junior Quartet, (except they’re all babies), Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Ensemble Cast, Worst Zombie Fighting Team Ever, Found Family)
🔒 when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)
💖 Shattered Dreamsby pupeez4eva (Not Rated, 8k, WangXian, Time Travel, Angst, lots and lots of angst, Character death, but it’s WWX so he is coming back, WWX time travels back to the Nightless City And doesn’t let JYL take the blow for him, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, And then just lots of fluff and WangXian and Yunmeng sib feels to make up for all the angst)
in your skin by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Horror, Body Horror, Blood and Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Non-Consensual Body Modification, kinda??, Reflections over death and self-worth, mentions of canon suicide, Near Death Experiences, 🔒 [Podfic] in your skin by flamingwell)
to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (WordsWritInStarlight) (G, 19k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, LSZ is the best of boys and I will not hear debate, Music, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, [Podfic] to the act of making noise by Ceewelsh, flamingwell, kisahawklin, Rionaa)
1C)
Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending) Wei Ying is mistreated/unfairly treated by the Lans in Concord, Mourning Robes and Preparing the Soil
Mourning Robes by Starlight1395 (T, 17k, wangxian, No Sunshot Campaign, Arranged Marriage AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Depression, dissociating, Mild Blood, Fluff, juniors idolizing WWX like he deserves, slowburn between WWX and Cloud Recesses, Hinted smut, Jingyi has a CRUSH, Supportive JC)
Preparing the Soil by Rynne (T, 26k, WangXian, LQR & LWJ, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Family Issues, Family Conflict, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Chinese Holidays, Chinese New Year, Birthdays, Good Kid LSZ, Meta Arguments, POV LWJ, Protective LWJ, Married WangXian, LWJ’s Birthday, LSZ’s Birthday, Soft WangXian, LWJ Has to Talk a Lot, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Gusu Lan Sect, Letting Go of Resentment, The WWX Rule, Good Sibling LXC, Improving Uncle LQR, Grappling with the Lans’ Part in the Siege, learning to be better, Music, LWJ is a Composer, LWJ Is Good at Communicating Actually, Not JC Friendly)
they keep the phoenix in a bamboo cage by Kieron_ODuibhir (T, 41k, WangXian, Amnesia, YLLZ WWX, Angst, Humor, Dramatic Irony, Character Study, BAMF WWX, WWX in WWX's Body, no dubcon beyond canon-typical misunderstanding kisses, and references to wangxian's usual under-negotiated cnc, but essentially, fake Dark LWJ) Wei Ying thinks he's being held prisoner by the Lans
Take Him Back, Hide Him Away by Anonymous (E, 5k, WangXian, Forced Marriage, Forced Orgasm, Wedding Night, Somnophilia, Dark LWJ, a bit of blood but not much, Kidnapping, Breeding Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Rape/Non-con Elements) Wei Ying is truly abused by Lan Zhan in Take Him Back...Please mind the tags on the last one.
~*~
2. hiii do u know of any angsty yanli fics? they don't gotta be centered on any one point in her life but I feel like there's a lot of angst potential when it comes to her realtionship with madam Yu (like in the lotus seed story!!)
The Rage of Daughters by givemeunicorns (T, 51k, XuanLi, WangXian, ChengQing, MianLi, Grief/Mourning, Family Issues, Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Yanli lives but she has to work through some stuff okay?, Forgiveness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Major Character Undeath)
Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JZX & JGY, JYL & WXX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault, some murder on occasion, People talking about their feelings, processing their trauma, The good shit)
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3. Itmf fics where they are thespians (aka they do plays/musicals)
There are a number I’ve read for #3, theater-related works, but I will tout the very entertaining Scrippio’s works (there are several), including
Players gonna play by Scrippio (T, 68k, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, Modern, College/University au, Theater AU, Director WWX, Faculty advisor LWJ, grad student JC, Baker JYL, grad student WQ, Fluff, First Meeting, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Depression)
🧡 Fakespeare in the Park by Scrippio (T, 72k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, Modern AU, Modern: No Powers, Theatre, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Plus some very on purpose baby acquisition, The occasional existential crisis, all the relationships are established, Light Angst, one emergency surgery, but it’s fine)
and the not theater but Ren Faire offering (which is a second home to theater kids everywhere) 🧡 Faire thee well by Scrippio (T, 77k, WangXian , ChengQing, XuanLi, 3Zun, Modern AU, Renaissance Faire, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Slow Burn)
to aim at poetry with pistols series by azurewaxwing (E, 34k, WangXian, LJY/LSZ, Modern, College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Actors, Theatre, Multimedia, Pining, Cancer, LWJ can have a little turtle (as a treat), Minor Character Death, Smut, Anal Sex, The duality of LWJ: always horny and always poetry)
Talisman by Witch_Nova221 (M, 192k, WangXian, Modern AU, Eventual Romance, Theatre, Rock Band, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Spousal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Stalking, Minor Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)
Fanciful Nature by QuietReader25 (E, 168k, WangXian, peking opera, Theatre, 1930s, Flowers, Smut, Slow Burn, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Sad WWX, Pining, Drunk LWJ, Mutual Pining, Drunken Shenanigans, Love Confessions, Singing, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Mystery, Past Character Death, Attempted Sexual Assault, Violence, Parties, Bunnies, First Kiss, First Time, Jealous LWJ, Possessive Sex, Emotional Sex, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Character Death, Bath Sex, Riding, Slight Choking)
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4. Hello! Itmf WWX returning to Lotus Pier and taking his position as first disciple and/or teaching students again. Thank you! @gloriousclotpole
Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics)
🔒 Tether by WithBroomBefore (T, 40k, WangXian, SangLi, WWX’s passive suicidality, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, Golden Core Reveal, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV JYL, Grief/Mourning, Sunshot Campaign, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, LWJ makes friends, Fix-It, Happy Ending)
family by antebunny (G, 8k, JC & WWX, WangXIan, JYL/JZX, Fix-It, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, actual family, Everybody Lives, JC is a good bro, Epic Tsundere JC, wwx's horde of gremlin children, Canon Divergence) Wei Ying is no longer officially head disciple after it's revealed he lost his core in family but he trains and recruits disciples for Jiang Cheng.
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5. Hey all I was kinda in the mood for fics that sorta give the same feel as Sonny’s Edge (from Netflix) involving wwx obviously. I would appreciate anything you can come up with but would prefer a long fic … and maybe a happy ending after an angsty bit! @lonelyreverance
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6. ITMF please!
I recently read Dreams of Cultivation by mortuus_lingua and it was amazing! Are there any more gamer or game-themed fics with wangxian? 🥺
simping for hanguang-jun by defractum (nyargles) (T, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, YouTubers WangXian, Fluff, Among us game, Streamer AU)
Wei Ying’s Smile is Beautiful by Guineapigs1 (T, 66k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Video Game World, Gaming, Identity Porn, Oblivious WWX, Mutual Pining, Online Romance, Love O2O AU)
🔒Duo With You by Nyatci (T, 48k, WIP, WangXian, JFM/YZY, XuanLi, College/University, Gamers WàngXiàn, Casual Gaming, enemies to lovers (sorta), Secret Identity vibes, they play league of legends, Kinda Crack but treated very seriously, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Comedy, But also, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Abusive Jiang Family, Eventual Happy Ending)
🔒【为梦想而战】for this dream, i'll fight by paradisetrain (M, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Gamer AU, League of Legends, Gaming Jargon, Social Media, Internet Hate, cancel culture, Hacking, Cheating, Internet Scandal, Bad Parenting, Parent Death, Family Issues, Family Feels, Healing, Falling In Love)
Our Red String of Fate is a Wireless Connection by TheLegendOfChel (M, 24k, wangxian, college/university au, esports, internet famous, secret identity, WIP)
🔒Make It Right by Prince_kun (M, 28k, WangXian, NieLan, SongLan, ChengQing, Transmigrator WWX, Historical, Video Game World, Transmigration, Canon - Modao Zushi & The Untamed Combination, Implied/Referenced Medical Condition, Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, War AU, warprizewwx, Crack Treated Seriously, Pretty Woman Fusion, Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Modern man wwx, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, WWX in WWX's Body, Oblivious WWX, Action/Adventure, BAMF LQY, General LWJ, LWJ is LSZ’s Parent, Love Doctor XXC, Love Doctor SL, Historical Inaccuracy, Parent LWJ)
You're my Destiny. by headBONDmeLWJ (T, 44k, WangXian, Modern AU, POV WWX, Pining WWX, Oblivious WWX, Gamer WWX, Gamer LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Idiots in Love, Awkward Crush, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, WWX-centric, Internally Screaming LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Pining LWJ, LWJ is Whipped, POV LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Established WangXian)
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7. Hello! Are there any fanfics that Wei wuxian and lan wangji were married but just stayed indifferent to each other until many years later? @lanwuxian0725
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8. Hello,
I was wondering for itmf if there is a fic with nice intimacy written for Wen Ning?
But please not with WY
Thank you!
Honey Lavender by TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds (E, 15k, ChengNing, Slow Burn, Pining, Awkward First Times, Canon Divergence, Jealousy, Top JC, Bottom WN, Consensual Underage Sex, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers or something like that, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Cinnamon Roll WN, Eventual Necrophilia)
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9. hello! i'm not sure if any of them exist but just in case... for the next itmf if anyone knows any i would love to read canon/post-canon fics where sizhui views wwx as his father but not lwj
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10. ITMF a fic where wwx finds out that lwj actually has game (as in, he regularly hooks up with different people). something similar to "our friendship (up against the ropes)". any fic in general where lwj completely subverts wwx's stuffy impression of him
the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern: No Powers, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others, background NieLan, background QingMian, inter-faculty romance, strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers, mostly book characterisation, Background XuanLi)
it's always open by ScarlettStorm (E, 60k, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, vague north american setting, First Time, Getting Together, Pining while fucking, Some angst, Happy Ending, lwj FUCKS, Sexual exploration, demi wwx, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, confused but enthusiastic consent, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, truly absurd amounts of naked pillow talk, switch rights)
On The Way by 8Zaire8 (E, 13k, WangXian, Smut, so much porn, PWP, Fluff, Porn with Feelings, Getting Together, Public Sex, Library Sex, restaurant sex, Riding, Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Anal Sex, Fuckboy LWJ, Transfer student WWX, High School, Facial, Top WWX/Bottom LWJ, Light Bondage, Mentions of past abuse from YZY, mentions of Lan Zhan and other characters, slight somnophilia, Power Bottom LWJ)
To See You (Again) by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) ( E, 84k, WangXian, Modern AU, London, No Magic AU, lwj FUCKS, But Like Bottomji Fucks, Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Pining, Grindr, Light Bondage, mild D/s themes, Experienced LWJ, Less Experienced WWX, straight boy WWX)
~*~
11. Hi! I’m looking for modern aus that include A-Yuan being legally adopted by WWX. I just read let’s play pretend and live our lives by tassos and the dynamics there between WWX and A-Yuan were so lovely, I wanna read more fics like that. Thank you!!
The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer, a Spanish version of the fic, Turkish translation, Translation into Русский availabl) this has A-Yuan being adopted jointly by Wangxian
estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, wangixan, modern, breakup/makeup, pining while fucking, single dad WWX, angst w/ happy ending)
🧡 i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Golden Core Reveal, Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)
Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, wangxian, Modern, imbo LXC, Single Parent WWX, Kid Fic, Magic Tricks, Fluff and Humor, Child LSZ, Meet-Cute, Bunnies, Misunderstandings, Love at First Sight)
Picture Perfect by manaika (M, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, Past Relationship(s), Widower WWX, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Stepfather WWX, LSZ is a Wèi, Single Parent WWX, Aromantic Relationship, Platonic Life Partners, it’s all in the past and only mentioned/discussed when relevant, Sex-Favorable Asexual WWX, RomanceHurt/Comfort, Past Character Death, Food Intake Related Medical Issue (not what you think) )
The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LXC/NMJ, JC & WWX & JYL, modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i’m the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)
The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)
And They Were Quarantined series by thunderwear (E, 49k, WangXian, 3zun, quarantine fic, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, LXC is a total slut for his roommates and he isn't even trying to hide it, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Getting Together, Single Dad WWX, Long-Distance Relationship, Fluff, almost no angst, Happy Ending, First Time, Phone Sex, switching POV, Domestic Fluff, some smut, Rabbits, little a-yuan is the best, Anxiety Attacks, Touch-Starved LWJ gets his hug!, And Then Some ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ), a-yuan is best boy, A-Yuan is an agent of chaos and everyone thinks its cute, And they're right …but not for long? NHS should never be trusted alone with kids)
i guess i’ll have to change my plan by darjeelinh (E, 35k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute, Falling In Love, Love at First Sight, First Kiss, First Time, Inspired by Before Sunrise (1995) and Before Sunset (2004), soft rom-com vibes, One Night Stands, but not really, Light Angst with a Happy Ending, they both have demi vibes in this fight me about it, Loss of Virginity, Misunderstandings, Separations, Reunions, wangxian canon Elopement™️ shenanigans, now with art) that part kinda starts in ch2 but it's there
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12. Can you recommend any chat fics plz plz plz
Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 75k, LWJ/WWX/MXY, Chatlogs, chatfic, Texting, Comedy, Canon Compliant, Crack, Memes, Humourm JGY is best bitch, i am afraid of when LXC finally snaps, XY is a highly cursed person, NHS is still mvp tbh, Polyamory, Not Everyone Dies, Just have fun everyone!!!, Additional: please do not eat or drink reading this enough people have choked x-x)
The Bunnies and The Roomba: A Love Story by Nikki373 (T, 6k, wangxian, modern, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Siblings, Siblings Try and Are Trying, College/University, 1 if by phone; 2 if by text; 3 if by mouth, Kisses, Romance, Falling In Love, LXC is the eternal captain of the good ship Wangxian) These next three feature a lot of chats within the story but aren't true chatfics
🔒 you’ve ruined my life (by not being mine) by cicer (E, 132k, WangXian, Modern AU, Developing Relationship, Idiots in Love, Awkward Flirting, teenage romance, Shameless WWX, slowburn, Demisexuality, references to lqr’s a+ parenting, references to jfm’s a+ parenting, but we’re gonna get a happy ending ANYWAY, references to yzy’s a+ parenting, Background NMJ/LXC, hints of nmj/lxc/jgy, bottom LWJ in chapter 15) These next three feature a lot of chats within the story but aren't true chatfics
Some of You by tangerinechar (M, 60k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Actor AU, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Love Confessions, Matchmaking, Light Angst) These next three feature a lot of chats within the story but aren't true chatfics
🔒Bodega Love by cicer (T, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, bisexual disaster wwx, text conversations, reckless use of emojis, unrepentent goofiness, [Podfic of] Bodega Love by exmanhater, Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard), GoLBCollabs (GodOfLaundryBaskets), Gondolinpod (Gondolin), growlery, nicolasechs, Opalsong, RevolutionaryJo, Rhea314 (Rhea), [Podfic] Bodega Love by GinevraReads (GinevraFangirl), jennisaisquoi, kealdrakemna_collabs (kealdrakemna), KeriArentikaiMultipods (KeriArentikai), kisahawklin, mulberry_graceful, PandaReads (DrPanda99), shash_reads (sunkitten_shash)) is an amazing chat fic (sorry I don’t remember the number) also a good podfic by multiple artists
🔒Tax B(racket) by adrian_kres (T, 744, WangXian, Crack, Interactive, nielan, when your friends make a groupchat to talk about you and then feel bad about it, Rated T for language)
Carefully Orchestrated Plans (no strings attached) by Maledictius (T, 101k, WangXian, Modern AU, Chatting & Messaging, Orchestra, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip)
MDZS Chat Fic by Maaarken (M, 51k, JC/LXC/NMJ, LWJ/WWX/WN, JYL/JZX, WQ/MM, WLJ/WC, JGY/NHS, JC & NHS, Social Media, Chatting & Messaging, Modern, Miscommunication, Polyamor, Established Relationship, Light mentions of incest, because WWX is a dumb gremlin, Gremlin WWX, Matchmaking, Bad Matchmaking, Bad Flirting, Everyone swears a lot, Except the Lans, Light chengxian, Good WC, Bad SS, Some Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dage is a bit of an ass, but he becomes better, JC is less angsty than canon, Is it slice of life if it's only the drama slices?, Oblivious WWX, Oblivious LWJ, Oblivious lots of people tbh, Slow Burn, mostly for the poly couples, Crack Treated Seriously, LXC is a troll, they talk about dicks a lot, LXC's mostly, NHS is a Good Bro, the best actually, Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better)
~*~
13. Hello! For itmf any mafia boss lan wangji? Thankyou!
🔒🧡 Rule Number One: Never get attached. by KizuKatana (E, 130k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O, Criminal underworld AU, Fluff and angst, Crime boss LWJ, Rouge criminal genius WWX, Explicit Sex)
Baby, You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet by TriviasFolly (E, 177k, WangXian, Modern AU, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Omega LSZ, Mafia, Crime, Sects are Clans, Feral WWX, Feral Omegas, Nurse WWX, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Possessive LWJ, feminine WWX, wwx’s cannon desire to be a sugar baby/trophy wife, Breeding Kink, Mpreg)
The Damage You Do by stiricide (E, 188k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Dom/Sub, Dark LWJ, Mobster LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Sex Worker WWX, Sugar Baby WWX, WWX adopts LSZ, Dubious Consent, each chapter has sex tag notes on it, BDSM, Sounding, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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14. A) I'm in the mood for a fic that has Lan Wangji being worried about his brother after the burning of Cloud Recesses, and one that includes a (preferably teary and emotional) reunion between the two. Bonus if it shows that Lan Wangji is actually a traumatized teenager who really really needs a hug from his big bro
B) I'm in the mood for a fic that focuses on the events in the Xuanwu cave. Preferably one that continues past those events in an AU fashion. Perhaps a feelings realization and a get-together? I remember I saw something once (can't find it again tho) that had Jiang Cheng not bringing anyone to rescue the pair, so they broke out on their own (or someone else saved them?) Anyway, a Xuanwu AU would be nice:)) @lmaodilligaf
14B)
Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)
Hope Dangling by a String by KouriArashi (M, 70k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives, angst w happy ending, hurt/comfort, psychic bond, telepathy, communication, emotional/psychological abuse, jiang family feels, lan family feels, canon-typical violence, canon-typical politics, improper use of sacred forehead ribbons, gratuitous hair washing)
🔒 Not my lips you kissed (but my soul) by luckymoonly (M, 20k, WangXian, NMJ/LXC, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Sunshot Campaign, Fall of Lotus Pier, Happy Ending, Starts from chapter 55, Romance, fast burn, WWX and NHS are BFF, Horny Teenagers, Loss of Virginity, Smut, Angst, getting together early, no loss of golden core, pregnant WWX, Mpreg, soup drama, Matchmaker WN, Smugji strikes again, Everyone Is Gay)
🔒 Bloom where you are planted by luckymoonly (M, 44k wangxian, MM/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix It, courting, Mpreg, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Happy Ending, getting together early, Romance, WWX giving birth in the middle of the war? Most likely than you think!, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Smut, Drama, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Death, There Is Only One Bed, No Fall of Lotus Pier, Crossdressing, Shotgun Wedding, Mention of miscarriage (not WWX), wangxian Have a Breeding Kink, Giving Birth, Soft granduncle LQR)
Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, wangxian, canon divergence, unplanned pregnancy, mpreg, gore, sunshot campaign, assumed miscarriage, medical procedures, childbirth, golden core reveal)
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15. Hi I know it's embarrassing question but i have a preference for virgin wei ying trope could you plz 🙈🙏tell me an long recs that fit this trope hopefull 90000 words or more and completed.
🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 887k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) I’m not quite sure what you mean by the « virgin Wei Ying » trope, but both he and LWJ are virgins at the beginning of this one, it’s very good, and part/Act 1& 2 I think are complete. If you’re referring to a « virgin Marry » Wei Ying who can do no wrong ever…. Idk any that are actually long enough or good or not horribly OOC.
My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies) Another one that might fit would be My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun but there’s no sex in this one (it’s just really good and fun)
Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian’s Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) If you’re talking about the cannon fact that they’re both virgin romantics there’s too many to recommend, If I’m remembering correctly this has a bit of the innocent WWX in body and later mind? Kinda? so what are you looking for exactly?
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16. this request is for itmf. it’s a bit random and specific but are there any fics where there is a bit more focus or a scene where they discuss wwx’s hairstyle switching? like from his ponytail to his half up hairstyle?
it doesn’t have to be the focus of the fic ofc but please help me find if there’s any fics where they actually address that change
thank you! 🫶
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17. Hi! The other day I read a fanfic that basically was that mxy was pregnant before wwx was pulled in, so I was hoping anyone could give me recs with that premise
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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***
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radioactiveparker · 6 months ago
Text
The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader
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Part Five - Don't You Forget About Me
Chapter Summary - Secrets are told and feelings are finally shared, but will they change things for better or for worse? (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)
Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Mentions of Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Stereotyping / Angst / Drug References / Use of Y/N
Word Count - 7.3k
A/N - There is a ridiculous amount of dialogue in this one so I apologise in advance if that isn't your thing xxx
(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)
(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)
~~~~~
Saturday.
October 25th, 1986.
Hawkins High Library.
3:15pm
~~~~~
"How am I supposed to answer?"
"The idea is to search your mind for your limit, like... would you drive to school naked?"
You all sat in a loose circle back at the comfy chairs. Eddie had finally calmed down from his little self-pitied tantrum and finally decided that he would put his feelings on hold for now. Well, as best as he could. He could scream into his pillow all he wanted when he got back home. Although, that didn't stop any of his nervous jitters from making his heart pound when he so much as took a glance at you. He couldn't decided what was worse, sitting directly in front of you where he could constantly feel your gaze on him, or sitting beside you where he could accidently brush against you, and you could feel the beat of his heart thumping through his veins at every touch. He opted to sit opposite you.
"Would I have to get out of the car?" Steve asked, all serious like he was actually going to go to the school on Monday naked.
"Duh." Robin rolled her eyes.
"Winter or spring?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Nah, would you?"
"Me? No, I take the bus."
"I'd do just about anything for a million dollars, are you kidding!" Eddie gasped, like going to school naked was something he would do for free. "Have explosive diarrhoea for a month, chop off my pinkie finger - I'm sure I'll figure a way to still play guitar - sleep with an octogenarian..."
Steve would rather Eddie had kept his creative thoughts to himself. He winced in disgust at Eddie's artistic suggestions. "You keep talking like that, and you'll get sent to the nut house." 
He crossed his stretched-out legs in front of him and rested his hands behind his head as if he was on a sun lounger. His voice was airy like a daydream. "That'll be a nice change; cosy jackets, getting waited on by hot nurses. Sounds like paradise to me."
"You know, they'll probably shave your head too." You pointed.
That shut him up.
If only for a minute.
He smirked, propped himself back up, and leaned in towards you. His eyes magnetised to yours. Before when he looked at you his eyes were round and Bambi-like, dreamy even, but he is stare was strong and his eyes had a slight squint as if he was challenging you. "What would you do then, sweetheart?"
"I could go to school naked for a million bucks." You chimed, disguising your sudden urge to shrink away from him when all of the attention was on you.
You were almost always the centre of attention at school. You were the cheerleading Captain, after all. But that didn't mean that you liked it. It was easier somehow when it was everybody else, people you didn't know or care much about; their opinions didn't matter to you. But with this group of people, who you had shared a unique experience with, something changed in all of you. Whether you liked it or not, you all had some strange connection, and you were closer somehow. In just under eight hours, you had felt closer to these people than over two years of knowing your "real" friends.
"Isn't that like against religion?"
"What? No, only if it's sexual."
"So, are you a virgin?" Eddie's eyes lit up, eager for some juicy gossip. Or juicy ammunition to undoubtedly use against you at some point, you couldn't decide which one.
"Didn't we already cover this?"
"I don't know, sweetheart, I can't seem to recall you giving me an answer."
You scoffed, feeling yourself heat up with embarrassment and annoyance at how Eddie's behaviour towards you had suddenly changed. "I'm not going to discuss my private life with strangers."
"It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it?" Robin said almost sympathetically.
"A what?"
"If you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap. You want to, but you can't. But then when you do you wish you didn't. Right?"
"Or are you a tease?" Steve interrupted with a smirk.
You frowned. "I'm not a tease."
"She's only a tease if what she does gets guys hot." Eddie nudged Steve with a grin.
"I don't do anything."  You defended.
"That's why you're a tease." 
He took himself back to earlier on when you were dancing, how enticing your moves were, the way would would unknowingly flash him with every quick spin, the perspiration gleaming off of you. He wondered if he could get you all hot and sweaty like that. He had imagined that you would let him, especially when you had barely resisted yourself against him when his head was between your legs. Now, he was just adding fuel to whatever burning desire he had for you. You were just so fucking hot, and you had no idea. You had no idea just what you did to him. 
And for that, he hated you. Even more so that you had confided to Nancy that you liked someone else. But he hated himself more for allowing himself to feel that way in the first place.
"I'm not having this conversation anymore." You scoffed. "You're bizarre."
"I mean, we're all pretty bizarre." Steve shrugged. "Some are just better at hiding it than others."
"How are you bizarre?"
"I can't think for myself. I just do what other people to tell me to do." He had been doing it all day, whether he knew it or not; he had played along when Eddie took the screw out of the door, he let you take the record from the teachers lounge, heck, he even convinced himself to get high just because you had told him to 'loosen up'.  "You know what I did to get in here?"
"You flew a practice." You recalled your conversation from earlier that day.
He shook his head, avoiding everyone's eyes as he frowned. His bottom lip quivered with guilt. "I just said that. I lied. It's so fucked-up, I had to lie."
"Did you lie about your coach and your father?"
"No, that's true." Steve's eyes looked wet. He took a breath like what he was about to say would change his life forever. "What I did was I taped Larry Lester's buns together. You know him?"
Eddie perked up. "I know Larry, he was in Hellfire for a little while."
"Then you know how hairy he is -- when they pulled the tape off, all his hair came with it -- and some skin, too."
"Oh shit."
"The bizarre thing is, that I did it for my old man. I tortured this poor kid because I wanted my dad to think I was cool. He's always going off about when he was young. And I got the impression that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anybody, right? So, I was sitting in the locker room taping up my knee and Larry was undressing a few lockers down from me, and suddenly the next thing I knew I grabbed him and threw him down and I just started wailing on him. And he screamed and kicked while my buddies laughed and cheered me on. Afterwards, when I was sitting in Vernon's office, all I could think about was Lester's father and Lester having to go home and explain what happened to him. The humiliation, the fucking humiliation... must have been unreal. How the hell do you apologize for something like that? There's no way."
The others just stared in shock at his admission.
Steve's voice deepened, imitating his father. "'Steve, you've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family. Win! Win! Win!' He's like this mindless machine who I just can't relate to anymore. God, I fucking hate the way he is. Sometimes when I'm in the court I just wish my knee would give. If I couldn't play again, he'd probably forget all about me, and then I could get on with my life."
Your voice strained around the lump in your throat. "Why do you do everything he says?"
"I don't know. I've been told what to do for so long that I don't know how to say no."
"What did you guys do to get in here?" Nancy asked.
"You first." Eddie challenged.
"I got caught skipping class, trying to investigate Hawkins lab."
"Why were you trying to investigate Hawkins lab?"
"I think they had something to do with Barb's death."
You wondered who this 'Barb' was, then you remembered Barbra Holland who had mysteriously disappeared, presumed dead, almost exactly one year ago. Robin's head hung low at the name. When Barb began first grade, she became best friends with Robin, but when the girls began sixth grade, Barbara had met Nancy and eventually drifted apart from Robin. It wasn't Robin's fault that they had drifted apart, but she couldn't help but feel as though she could have done more to save their friendship. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn't have gone missing. 
You had seen Barbara Holland walking around the school with Nancy. You thought the pair was a strange duo, especially when Nancy started becoming more and more popular. That being said, however, she always seemed nice. Volunteering for different school committees, helping other students study in the library, even helping to set up for basketball games. If she was still alive, you supposed you could have tried to be friends with her after today. 
"What did you do, Rob?"
"Oh, I-I can't say." Her face flushed.
"C'mon, why not? We said ours."
Her heart was racing and pressure was weighing down on her chest. She looked to Steve. His eyes were filled with concern. Those big brown puppy dog eyes that made her feel bad for keeping anything from him.
"I-I got... caught... with someone."
"Caught doing what?"
She took a sharp breath. Nancy's question hadn't done anything to release the weight trying pulling her heart into her stomach. "Something... in the janitors closet."
Eddie laughed. "Buckley, you dirty little rascal. Who was it?"
"I can't say." She shied.
"Oh, c'mon."
"Tell us, Rob."
"C'mon, tell us who it was."
A chorus of 'tell us' chants bashed around in her skull. The weight was getting heavier and heavier until the band snapped.
"Vickie!"
The band had released her heart and sling-shot it up into her throat. She could hardly swallow as tears sprung in her eyes.
"Vickie. Vickie from band, Vickie?"
"Yes!" And although the band had snapped, the weight had gone. Her secret had been fermenting and sizzling inside her, bottled up and expanding until the lid popped and it finally spilled and overflowed. 
"But, Vickie's a girl."
"Oh, Robin." You gasped at the realisation, rubbing her arm to console her. 
"Holy shit."
Her voice trembled. "I get if you guys don't want to be near me anymore--"
"No, Rob. Why wouldn't we want to be near you?" Steve questioned, almost offended that Robin would thing he would stoop that low. 
"I'm a freak."
"Hey, look who you're talking to." Eddie's voice was soft, yet playful. "Nobody's more of a freak than me."
Everybody laughed, you included, although you felt kind of bad. You were all as much of a freak as each other, you had learned today. It was good that Eddie could laugh about it, but he shouldn't have to in the first place. 
You had hoped that the subject would change there, but the dreaded question was pointed at you. "So why are you here, Sweetheart?"
You cleared your throat. "I told my parents that I had cheer practice cause they'd flip if they found out I got a detention."
"Right, that's not exactly what I meant. What did you do to get in here?"
You sighed. Robin and Steve had been brave enough to share their story. You thought it only fair to tell yours, despite your reluctance.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"I told my boyfriend that I had detention so I didn't have to see him."
"Wow, I didn't know Billy Hargrove was that bad in the sack." Eddie chuckled.
"No, it's not that. We haven't even..."
"Oh, so you are a virgin!"
"Do you believe in all of that no sex before marriage bullshit?" Steve asked, intrigued.
"So what if I do?" You snapped.
You didn't, but you were offended for your mother's sake. Not that you knew why you were, almost like she had drilled it into your head, or branded it onto your brain with a hot iron where it would scar forever.
But scars can fade.
"Nah, she doesn't. She wants to, but she doesn't." Eddie folded his arms as if to say "watch me rip this girl to shreds". "I can see it in those sweet little eyes of yours. You're just daddy's little girl and mommy's little princess - a kiss ass. Sucking up to your parents' beliefs just to get what you want"
"I do not."
He rolled his eyes, firmly standing by his statement. Nothing would persuade him to think otherwise. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. But you and I both know that I don't need no damn preacher to make you mine."
"Ugh, you're impossible."
Nancy eagerly changed the subject. "So why didn't you want to see your boyfriend?"
Your demeanour instantly shifted. Your glaring eyes turned wide with fear at the mention of Billy. You immediately pulled at your sleeve to hide the bruises on your wrist. The once angry beat of your heart thumped cowardly along the vein in your neck, as if threatening to escape in a scream. "He -umm- he has a bit of a temper. Lately, I feel like nothing I do is good enough for him, and he tends to... lash out."
Eddie rolled his eyes at you. You were as close to perfect as someone could get in his eyes. How could your life not be perfect too? "Nah, I don't buy it. Look at you, all that skin showing, and there's not a scratch on you."
You anger returned in a crash, tsunami waves flooding into your eyes and a whirlpool swirling in your gut. How dare he question you. Eddie hadn't even plucked up the courage to share a single thing about himself, and yet here he was, judging you for being brave enough to. 
"Fuck you!"
In a blaze of fury, you stormed off with stomping feet and secluded yourself in the listening room. Slamming the door behind you, you slumped yourself on the floor against the rack of records. You attempted to control your breathing, but your anger reduced you to nothing but a mess of tears, and you began sobbing uncontrollably into your own arms.
The others stared at Eddie with a mix of shock and disgust. Eddie was used to that kind of reaction. But why did he hate how it felt? He looked into himself as the others had and found that he was just as disgusted with himself. The guilt that coiled around his stomach almost made his throw up. He swallowed it down and avoided the others' gaze as he stood and made his way to you, despite the others telling him to leave you alone.
His heart lurched when he heard you choke out a sob from behind the door. He clenched his fist, angry at himself, but knocked gently on the door.
"Leave me alone." You tried to say angrily, but it sounded so heartbroken that it had no bite to it.
Eddie ignored your request and bravely opened the door. You didn't need to look up to know who it was who sat beside you. The lingering smell of weed, smoke and cheep cologne told you it was Eddie. You didn't make any effort to move, not wanting Eddie to see how his words had effected you.
After a few beats of silence, Eddie finally spoke. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever." You sniffed, keeping your head hidden in your arms.
"No really. I am."
The honesty in his voice made you pause. You stopped your tears with a final sniff and raised your head to look at him. The look on his face when he saw you was if he was going to cry himself. At first you thought how dare he cry after how he made you feel but you could see the regret seething in his chocolatey irises. 
"I am so sorry Y/N. I didn't mean any of it. I was just... just..."
"Just what?"
"Angry, I guess."
"At me?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "No, well kinda. Not angry at you, angry because of you..."
"What do you mean?"
You questions were bashing around his skull. He raked his hands over his face. He was frustrated at himself for not being able to give you the answer you wanted to hear, and not being valiant enough to express his feeling to you. Instead, he did the cowardly thing and changed the subject.
"Can I ask you something?"
You nodded, although you were disappointed that he didn't give you an explanation. But you understood that sometimes feelings can be hard to communicate. You knew that Eddie wasn't one to share his feelings and you doubted that he ever would. Not to you anyway.
"Why don't you leave him?"
It was a question you asked yourself all the time. You knew exactly why, you just didn't have the courage to end it. It was easier to ask yourself the question. To you it was some sort of first step to leaving Billy. But that's all it was, a step. One step forward and three steps back. You would tell yourself to leave him, then he would look at you with a storm reeling in his eyes and you would back down. Too chicken shit to stand up for yourself, in fear of what he could do to you.
You took a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill again. "Because I'm scared to. What if all of this time he's been holding back, and leaving him just pisses him off to the max. He'd kill me. I've seen the look in his eyes. I bet if I pushed him hard enough he'd do it."
Eddie's heart was in his throat. He knew that feeling all too well. "Shit, Y/n. I'm sorry you have to go through that."
"I guess it's my own fault." You sniffed. "I dated him thinking it would get back at my parents, but they love him. He's like a completely different person around them, it's so frustrating. He could do no wrong in their eyes. I bet if I told them what he'd been doing they'd take his word over mine."
You paused for a brief moment. Sharing your thoughts with Eddie had forged some clarity and you wondered why you were pouring your heart out to the person who had just hurt your feelings. He had apologised, but could you forgive him? He frustrated you to no end, so why did you have such a soft spot for him?
"I don't get you Eddie."
"What do you mean?" He sat himself straight at your sudden change in demeanour.
"I just don't know how to take you."
"I can think of some ways for you to take me." He smirked sending you a wink.
Any other time, you would have blushed, but he only proved your point.
"See, this is what I'm talking about. One minute we're at each others throats, the next you're acting like your my friend and then you're flirting with me. I just don't know what I'm meant to do."
He turned to you and took your hands in his. "Look I'm sorry. It's just that I...."
"You...?"
I like you and I'm a jealous asshole because you like someone else. He couldn't tell you that, of course. He removed himself from you and wrapped his arms round his knees, mimicking your position. "Whatever, I'm just sorry, okay?"
"Then why don't I believe you?"
"I'm telling you the truth, I swear."
"Prove it."
"Prove it how?"
You paused. The two of you were cursed. Cursed by those who were meant to protect you, to love you; angels that were monsters in disguise. A curse of bruises and scars and broken bones, forever scared to stand up for yourself, scared to love. You wanted to ask him about it. How did he put up with it? You recalled when Steve said it was a part of Eddie's image. You wanted to know the truth.
"Do your parents really beat you?"
Annoyance flashed across his eyes. The question made his blood boil. "What kind of question is that?"
"Just answer it Eddie. Please" 
"Yes..." He snapped, but you looked at him with those big, watery puppy dog eyes again and he couldn't help but cave. "Well, they did. I don't actually live with them anymore. I live with my uncle. He looks after me."
"I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"It's whatever." His anger had cooled to a simmer, but it still sizzled in his gut. 
"Can I ask you something?" You repeated Eddie's earlier question. "If your home life is a lot better now, why do you act the way you do?"
He sighed. "I guess Harrington was right before. To keep up my image. If I look all mean and scary, people are less likely to pick on me and my friends. They sort of look up to me, so I gotta put on a brave face, you know?"
You nodded, but felt like he was holding back. "Any other reason?"
"I guess... I mean, I've always been a nobody, so I guess doing all this, acting the way I do, makes me feel seen. The only time my parents ever really payed attention to be was when they were beating on me, so... I guess old habits die hard."
You nodded again, letting silence fall between you. You could tell that your questioning had upset Eddie. Irritation was practically steaming off him. Eddie hadn't shared so much of his life with anyone, not even the Hellfire boys. He was torn between feeling relieved to get it off his chest, and being annoyed at himself for opening up to you so easily.
"Good session today, Munson. Same time next week?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood.
You wiped the tear stains from your cheeks and stood up to go and join the others. Although you didn't say anything more to him, Eddie he knew he was forgiven. But somehow, that didn't make him feel much better. You stood in the doorway and turned to see if Eddie was following you. Eddie hadn't moved an inch and stayed looking like he was stuck in his own head
"Eddie, if its any consultation, I'd like to think that I can see you now. The real you."
You left him to join the others. They stared at you like you were a bomb going to burst any second, but you simply brushed them off and sat back in your seat. The silence was awkward until Robin spoke.
"Can I ask a question? What happens on Monday?" She asked but received no answer. "I'm assuming we're friends. Right? We're doing things together, we're talking about our private lives, we've broken the law together. It seems like we can call ourselves friends. I think of you guys as my friends anyway. Am I wrong?"
"No. I don't think you're wrong" Eddie piped up, returning to the circle, sitting opposite you and not daring to look you in the eye.
"So, on Monday. What happens?"
"You mean are we still friends?" Nancy asked. "If we're friends now, that is."
Everyone had an interest in the question but no one wanted to commit to an answer. You all eyed each other, waiting for the other to speak. In your ideal world, you would walk into school on Monday waving to Nancy and Steve, saying hello to Robin as Eddie walked you to Mr. Kaminski's chemistry class without a care in the world. 
But would that really happen? 
No.
Because you did care. You cared about what Carol thought, you cared about what Tommy thought, the cheerleading squad, Billy. God, you'd hate to think what Billy would do if he saw you walking the halls with these people. Not only what he would do to you, but what he would do to them.
"Truth?" You braved an answer, fidgeting with the watch on your wrist. "I don't think so."
Steve scoffed at you in disgust. "That's a real nice attitude."
"Be honest, Steve. On Monday, if Robin come up to you in the hall what would you do? When you're there with all the sports."
Steve looked at Robin, nervously. He was on the spot.
"I know exactly what you'd to. You'd  say 'hi' to her and when she left, you'd cut her up so that your friends wouldn't think you really liked her." You answered for him.
You and Steve were friends with the same types of people. You knew all too well how it would go down because you knew your friends.
"No way." He shook the hesitance from his brain, his face laced with determination as he finally thought for himself. "Not anymore."
Robin looked at Steve sadly. "Anymore?" 
"Truth is," Steve puffed his chest like he was about to perform an important speech, keeping his eyes on Robin. "I've been friends with Robin for a while-"
"Steve, you don't-"
"We work at Scoops Ahoy together in Starcourt. And she is the bestest friend I could ever ask for. I mean, she's just so real. None of this fake shit like Tommy and Carol. And she's always there for me, like always. I don't know what I'd do without you, Rob. I've had enough of being fake. From now on, Rob, it's gonna be you and me. I don't give a shit what anyone else says. And I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner."
"And what if I walked up to you?" Eddie asked you, optimistic after your previous conversation and hopeful that Steve's speech had given you some encouragement to change your mind.
You looked at him sadly. You hated to say it to him, but he was truthful to you earlier, it was only fair you did the same. Your voice fell quiet, a regretful whisper. "What I said before."
He looked at you like you had just stabbed him in the back. Ruefully, you had. "Don't be a bitch." He snapped.
You were taken aback. You knew Eddie was frustrated with you for questioning him before, but you thought he would have gotten over it. At least enough for him to join the circle again. Perhaps not. 
"What, I'm a bitch for telling the truth? I couldn't, not with Billy-"
"No! Because you know how shitty that it is to do to someone. You admit it and you aren't strong enough to tell your friends to fuck off and let you be friends with who you want!"
"And what about you? Why don't you take Steve to one of your heavy metal vomit parties?"
Eddie shot a look at Steve. You've got him.
"Take Nancy out to the parking lot at lunch and get high. Or me for that matter .. What would your friends say if they saw you and me walking down the hall together? They'd laugh their asses off and you'd cut me up. You'd probably say I'm doing it with you so they'd forgive you for being with me? Correct?"
Steve saved Eddie from an answer. "Okay. I assume Robin and I are better people than you guys." He turned to Nancy. "Would you do that?"
"I don't really have any friends anymore." She shied.
"If you did?"
"No, the kind of friends I'd have wouldn't mind."
There was a silence of a storm suddenly quelled. A pause long enough for everyone to calm down. 
Steve's voice was unusually quiet and timid. "Are we gonna be like our parents?" 
"Yes." Robin's answer was blunt.
"Why do you say that?"
"It's unavoidable."
"Not me." Eddie was determined.
"It just happens. When you grow up... your heart dies." 
You all sat, breathing in the heavy silence. It wasn't uncomfortable by any means, but it still felt heavy. The truth had been spilt whether everyone like it or not, but still, everyone had accepted it. They had accepted that things may just go back to the way they were before, but they also accepted that things could also never be exactly the same. It was a strange mixture of hope, solemn and acknowledgment. And for you - fear. You wanted to be friends with these guys. You wanted things to be different on Monday, but thoughts of Billy shrouded your desires. The things he would say or do if he found out what had happened in this room today; the friendships made, the truth told, the kisses shared. You'd rather wallow in your own self pity.
~~~~~
3:50pm
~~~~~
"Are you sure about this?"
"Absolutely, he won't be able to resist you."
Your eyes fluttered to the ceiling as Nancy prodded at your waterline with her black eyeliner pencil. 
Despite your differences earlier, everybody seemed okay with each other now. You'd all had time to cool off and apologise to one another. Unfortunately, you had meant what you'd said earlier, but you were still sorry for it.
You were currently in the seclusion room with Nancy and Robin giving you what they deigned a 'Munson Make-over'. Robin had given you her spare t-shirt from her bag. It was simply black and large enough to stop at the exact point on your thighs where your skirt had been. You hadn't wanted to take it from her, arguing that there may come a time where she'll need it more that you, but she refused, vowing that she 'just might have found something worth staying for'. 
You made a last minute decision to ditch the skirt underneath when the shirt started bunching up weirdly and making you look frumpy. You felt about ten times more exposed somehow, but the girls reassured you that you looked great. Nancy used a small make-up brush to finalise the finishing touches to your eyes, smudging the black in an edgy way that made the colour of your eyes pop. 
This hadn't been your idea, but a combined effort from both Nancy and Robin when she had accidentally blurted out your admission to having a crush on Eddie earlier. For once you finally felt like a teenager. Not having to worry about what people might think, just girls doing make-up and talking about boys like they do in the movies. 
And something stirred in your gut. Perhaps regret, or maybe defiance, but a pull in your chest decided that maybe you would take back what you had said about ignoring them on Monday. After a few swipes of mascara over your lashes, Nancy affirmed that you were done and 'ready to get your man'. Nancy leaned back to admire her handy work. With a big smile, she grabbed a compact mirror out of her bag and turned it to face you. Your eyes widened, stunned and not believing that it was you in the mirror. It was crazy how a bit of make-up could change the way you looked drastically. 
"Is this me?" You laughed in astonishment.
"It's you."
Your surprise quickly turned to insecurity. Never in your life had you worn make-up like this and you were starting to second guess whether or not you could pull it off. 
"But what if he laughs at me?"
Robin rolled her eyes. "He won't laugh, you look great. C'mon."
They urged you out of the door after assuring you that Principal Higgins was no where to be seen, and you made your way to the broom closet Eddie had told you he had been locked in. 
Eddie had managed (with the help of Steve) to clamber back up the hole in the ceiling that he had made. He was currently sitting on an upside down bucket, fiddling with his coat and scarf. The door swung open abruptly and Eddie stood tall, expecting to see Principal Higgins before him. Instead, you stepped into the room, keeping your eyes on Eddie with smirk as you leaned your back on the door to shut it. You crossed you legs over one another shyly as Eddie gawked at you. Your body felt like it was burning as he raked his eyes over you. 
"Hey." He said. It was the only thing he could think of in his state of disbelief.
"Hey."
His lack of response was worrying you. Nancy had tried so hard to convince you that Eddie liked you, but you were beginning to think that maybe she had been wrong. Eddie was nothing but a moment. Five measly years out of an entire lifetime. But do you simply let the moment pass you by, or do you seize the moment and make something out of it?
"What are you doing here?"
"I've come to see you."
"Me? Why?"
"I'm sorry, do you want me to go?"
"No, no, no, I don't want you to go. Sorry, it's just different being alone with you. Like properly alone with you, especially when you look like that."
"Good different?"
"Definitely good different." 
You smiled, feeling a bit more confident in yourself. You moved towards him and he took your hands in his.
"Listen, I've been wanting to tell you this, but I never really found a great time, especially with the other guys around all the time."
"What is it?"
He paused, having second thoughts about telling you. He knew you liked someone else. What if you just laughed in his face? No, you wouldn't do that. He'd opened up to you before, he could do it again. 
He released an exasperated sigh. "I like you, okay"
When you didn't reply in your state of shock, he continued. "I really like you, but I don't want to. I never thought that I could like someone like you. That's to say the popular chick, the cheerleading captain, you know what I mean. I spent my whole life hating people like that because they were all just bullies." He scoffed a laugh like he could hardly believe what he was saying. "And then you come along and you were just... different. I don't know how to explain it, there's just something about you. Something that I like."
"But I know you don't like me." He quickly added, drooping his head to face the ground.
You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest. Eddie does like you. You wanted to scream in happiness. But he thinks you like someone else. "what makes you think that?"
"I overheard you say to Nancy that you liked someone."
You laughed in incredulity. "That was about you, airhead!"
"It was?" His head snapped back up, looking at you with wide eyes.
"Do you think I'd dress like this if it wasn't for you?"
"Oh baby," he held your hands gently, pulling you forwards for you to look directly at him, "you look smoking hot don't get me wrong, but you don't have to change yourself for me, okay?"
You nodded, giving him a shy smile.
"You do look smoking hot by the way." He smirked pulling you closer so you were chest to chest. 
He tilted your chin up softly, eyeing the way your kissable lips parted for him and eyelids drooped with desire. Just a simple touch from him could ignite something deep within you. Something that had been dormant for so long. 
Passion? Desire?
Love?
"Eddie." You whispered against his lips.
"Yes, baby?"
"Do you really mean it? Do you really like me?"
"I do, sweetheart, I really do."
"Good." You rested your forehead against his as he stroked a wisp of hair from your face.
"Hey, sweetheart?"
"Yes, baby?" You teased.
"Can I kiss you?"
Your nodded, seizing the moment. You had never been more sure of anything in your life. Your eyes closed, ready for Eddie to press his lips against yours for your first real kiss.
"Munson-- What the...?"
The two of you jumped apart when the door swung open and Principal Higgins stood there looking rather puzzled. He was confused about how you had ended up in the closet, and why you had completely changed your look, but he didn't say anything. He was tired and wanted to go home.
"Let's go." He snapped.
The two of you made your way out of the closet and walked back to the library, Principal Higgins following closely behind like the two of you were going to run away from him any second. The walk to the library was short. The two of you sat down together and Higgins stood sternly before everyone with his arms crossed. He eyed everyone up in a way that was supposed to be intimidating.
"Papers?"
Nancy slid a single piece of paper across the table. Higgins picked it up wearily, reading the signatures of the kids scribbled in a mixed array of handwriting across the top. He looked mystified by the paper, but before he could open his mouth, the bell rang and everyone immediately gathered their things and left, leaving Higgins to read the paper alone.
Dear Principal Higgins,
We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us — in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain and an athlete, a basket case, a princess, a cheerleader and a criminal.
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours,
The Breakfast Club
~~~~~
Saturday.
October 25th, 1984.
Hawkins High.
4:05pm.
~~~~~
The sky had reclined into a rich blue, shadows stretching across the school's front steps in the setting sun. The five of you made your way down the stairs to the few cars outside. 
Nancy held hands with Steve on the way down, giving him a peck on the cheek before getting into her mother's car. She immediately began questioning her as they drove off down the road. Steve did a not-so-secret fist pump, and waved everyone goodbye before getting into his fathers car.
"See you guys on Monday." Robin bid you both farewell as she got in the back of the final car. 
You and Eddie stood in a comfortable silence side by side on the final step, neither of you wanting to say goodbye yet. 
"You know, I was thinking." Eddie broke the silence, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and leaning his weight on you. "What if there was another way to get back at your parents?"
"Like what?" You playfully shrugged him off, turning to face him.
"Well, I'm sure dating a metalhead weed smoker wouldn't appease them too much." 
You smiled at the way he put it, but frowned almost instantly when a sudden thought flashed behind your eyes. "What about Billy?"
"Let me deal with him." You don't look too convinced. "I'm stronger than I look, you know."
There was a relief that took a weight off your chest. Could this finally be over? Happiness felt like it was bursting in sunrays in your heart, making you giddy. You couldn't stop the smile from stretching across your lips. 
"I'll believe it when I see it." You teased. "Wouldn't want our first date to be at the hospital."
"So is that a yes?"
A chilly breeze rustled through the trees, borrowing your body heat and giving you goose bumps in return. A weight fell on your shoulders when Eddie placed his coat over you.
"Eddie you don't have to."
"You think I'm gonna let you walk home in the cold wearing that?"
"Maybe not." You smiled. "Let me give you something in return then."
"Oh you don't--"
You reached for your watch, unclasping the thin metallic band before grabbing his wrist and wrapping it around.
"You're giving me your watch? Why?"
You fastened it as loosely as you could, but it was still a little tight on him. He didn't resist, however, instead he watched you intently and read the time on it when you were done.
"Because tomorrow night, when the big hand hits twelve and the little hand hits seven, I want you to come pick me up."
"Pick you up? Like a date? So it is a yes."
Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You couldn't decide whether it was from excitement or nerves. You could only hope that Eddie will placate his chronic tardiness to show up at your door at exactly seven o'clock on the dot. But, you would have to find out tomorrow.
"But where do you want to go?"
"Leave that to me. Think of it as an early birthday present."
Eddie smirked, bending down to wrap his arms around your waist, bringing you close enough that a turn of your head would end up with your lips together. "Tell you what, you know what I want for my birthday?"
"What would that be?"
"I do believe I asked you for a kiss earlier."
"You did, but I guess you'll have to wait for your birthday for that." You smirked, pulling away and hopping off the step, making a start homeward.
You turned around teasingly to see Eddie frozen on the step completely stunned. You giggled to yourself, turning back with a skip in your step. You took about ten more steps before turning around again, only to see Eddie right behind you. He wrapped his arms around you waist, picking you up and spinning you around as your laughter echoed across the school field. 
"Oh no you don't, sweetheart." 
He span you around wildly as you attempted to beg him to stop through your laughter. His fingers prodded at your ribs, tickling you into submission. With a final dizzying spin, he set you down with a chuckle. You grabbed onto his shoulders to steady yourself as the world kept spinning around you. 
"Fine, just one kiss."
"That's more like it." He smiled.
He gently placed a calloused hand along your jaw, cupping your cheek to pull you closer. Your eyes closed softly as his lips finally pressed to yours in your first proper kiss together. The kiss was sweet with passion, pure and vulnerable with a promise of love. His warm tongue stroked against your lips tenderly and you threaded your hands through his hair, tilting your head as you massaged your tongue against his. He moaned softly into your mouth, using his other hand to draw your bodies together. 
Hesitantly, you pulled apart, the two of you with heavy eyelids and drunken smiles.
"How about I walk you home? Make a start on trying to "impress" your parents."
"I think I'd like that."
Somehow, eight hours in a school library had managed to change your life completely. Fate was the librarian, usually known for matching you with the book you want. Only this time you all got paired with a book you didn't want, or rather one that didn't suit your taste. Yet, you read it anyway and discovered that it is possible to branch out. It is possible to make changes, and that changes can be for the better. You can learn things that you otherwise wouldn't have about life, people, love. You can learn that everyone is different, yet we all share the same emotions. Insecurity and vulnerability can be embraced, and there is no right and wrong. At the end of the day, what matters most is acceptance, within yourself and within others.
~~~~~
<<<Previous // Next>>>
~~~~~
Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola @spookysace24 @metalhead-succubus
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redheadspark · 7 months ago
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heyy can i have benedict from bridgerton x reader prompt #17
A/N - I love this for Benedict! Thanks for requesting this, anon!
Tame
Summary - Benedict was not one to tame his wife, he would rather let her be herself instead
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Warnings - Just angst and fluff mixed together.
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“The audacity of that woman!”
You plopped down on the loveseat, a scowl on your face as your husband, Benedict Bridgerton perked up from his spot at his office desk.  You were rubbing your temples, and a headache was threatening to come over you rapidly from the conversation you said had some minutes before in the parlor.  Now you simply wanted to hide out with your husband on the other side of the estate.  It was mostly a home, not even an estate since it was rather small and only a handful of rooms.  
“I take it the tea went well with your mother?” Benedict hummed in amusement as you glared at him.  Benedict knew you weren’t truly mad at him, a soft smile on his lips as you leaned back a bit more in the loveseat, not even caring how un-ladylike you were appearing in the teal dress you decided to wear that day.
“She was not in the best of moods when discussing my brother, though I would rather hear her gossip about her circles of friends and their poor taste in men than to hear her talk about my brother in such a way,” You explained in a mellow tone.  Benedict chuckled as he took out a spare notepad, then retrieved a charcoal pencil that he would use to sketch as he leaned back in his chair and eyed his wife.  He loved the spitfire nature you had when you spoke about the dysfunctional nature of your family. It would make him chuckle to hear you rant and rage about your mother in particular, who was always trying to make a great impression in society but could never do it naturally.  
“Do you wish to discuss it?” He asked, knowing fully well that it was better for you to let it all out than to hold it in.  He discovered that tactic very early in their friendship together, even before he decided to court you and then ask for your hand in marriage.  Bottling it up inside of you never worked in your favor in the past.  
So you took in a long inhale, then recited the entire conversation word for word.
It was therapeutic for you to confide in Benedict with all that was happening with your family.  At first, you were afraid to tell him, thinking that it would paint you in such a bad light to say such things about your family.  However, Benedict was never one to judge when it came to family gossip.  He too had to deal with his siblings and their antics, you two would swap stories in your early courting moments.  But after seeing you in distress and about to be in tears after talking to your mother and father, he simply brought up the suggestion of talking about what happened.  
After you unload all that was inside of you for at least 5 minutes, Benedict was watching your shoulders lose the tension and the stress melt away from your face.  You were even breathing easier, a look of shock on your face as Benedict smiled widely at you and took your hand in his.
“Better?” He asked, you looking at him with a tentative smile and nodding your head.
“Much better,” You replied.
This was just the same, you talking wild about the gossip your mother was telling you.  Gossip about your brother’s upcoming marriage and the apparent scandal behind your future sister-in-law. Benedict was giving you the space to unleash all of the rage that you had bottled up from the moment you left the tea and made it back home, his charcoal was already at work as he was sketching and listening to you at the same time.  You then got up and paced back and forth, your hands moving wildly as your tone was going up and down with the insane story you were telling him.
“And poor Josephine!  She’s so lovely and makes my brother happy, though my own mother does not see that and only sees her last name!  The nerve of that woman, she’s acting the same way she did when she found out I was marrying you!” You commented, Benedict looking up briefly from his sketch and chuckling.
“She warmed up to me in the end, did she not?” He reasoned though you huffed at the words.
“Took her far too long to do so, dear,” You replied as you looked over at what he was doing.  He was still sketching, you raising a brow to him and then pointing to his paper.
“What are you doing?” You questioned him, the heat and anger no longer evident in your voice as Benedict still remained calm at his desk.
“Simply drawing the love of my life,” He replied nonchalantly, you feeling that tension and anger that you had second ago melted away from the sentence as he looked up at you with his smile and the brightness in his eyes.  You knew deep down he was listening and letting you get it all out of your system to feel more at ease, Benedict was amazing with you when it came to making you feel loved and safe.  No matter that he loved amusement and being more light-hearted than his other siblings, he still had a heart and adored taking care of you.  Perhaps even distract you and find a way to bring you ease.  
Ever since you two started courting one another, you wanted Benedict of your fiery nature how you were no dainty flower.  He never strayed from your warnings, in fact, he was more intrigued with you as you two were publicly a couple. Rumors and gossip about you and Benedict being together spread like wildfire, plenty of Benedict’s friends and fellow bachelors were warning him about your temper and how you were no true young lady because of the rules you would never follow.  
Yet he still stayed on your arm, still accompanied you to balls and galas, and he would protect every rumor that would come your way.  In the end, your wedding was the talk of the town, and you were now in a healthy marriage with the love of your life who saw more light in you than any other dared to in the past.  
You walked over, seeing Benedict lean back a bit for you to see his handiwork as you peered over his shoulder,  A small sketch of you on the couch, the curves along your arms and the detail on your cheeks and nose, it was a gorgeous sketch that he whipped out of nowhere.  
His craft was nothing short of perfection in your eyes.  He found beauty in everything around them, though he would brag that you were his muse from the moment he laid eyes on you at a Spring Ball so long ago.  He would leave sketches of you to find all over the home, especially on days when you were stressed or sad.  You’d find a sketch on your nightstand next to the bed, on the kitchen table next to your favorite tea cup, or even in your own office on top of your desk. You loved that quirk about him, among other things that had you falling in love with him.  The one attribute that you adored about your husband was his eye to see the beauty in everything around him.
Including you.
“Benedict,” You hummed, seeing the sketch with wide eyes and a soft smile on your lips.  You were no longer thinking about the tea or even the heated argument you had with your mother, you were simply staring at the simple and yet beautiful picture that your husband drew within minutes.  Benedict got up from the chair and wrapped you in his arms, kissing you soundly and taking your breath away.  He gained against your lips, your heart slamming against your chest rapidly as you were smiling against his lips in return.  
When he pulled away, he peered down at you with his smile still evident while he reached with one hand to frame your face lovingly, “You are quite the woman with that fire in your belly, it only reflects in the beauty I see in you,”
“And you are far too good of a husband to let me be vocal and vile when I need to be,” you commented. Benedict was then chuckling as you pecked his lips, “How do you put up with me so easily when I act un-lady-like?”
“It’s not me putting up with you, it’s me letting you be yourself and feel open to do so,” He explained, you hugging him tightly.  You adored being with Benedict all this time, through the tough and light times and even through the joy and the pain.  Benedict never let your love dwindle or diminish, and you have a bright future to look forward to together.  He gave you room to be ourself, to vent or lash out when it was stuck inside for far too long.  
Leave it to Benedict to never tame you.
The End
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May Prompt Session
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gotham-daydreams · 1 year ago
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Oh my god due to the recent Alfred ask it makes me wonder and scream at the thought if there has ever been a moment when Reader asked Alfred if there's something else they can call him. Like DAD perhaps...(and this can go for different routes and so many juicy things, but ill get into that later).
But since the backstory is up to us, I like to think the Reader has a bio family which was questionable(maybe I'm projecting), so they never had a good track record with their dad and then Bruce adopted them and we know that didn't end well.
So when they ask Alfred if there's something else they can call him ( a lil show that they do see him closer than anyone and that he's important to us.) We could have gone back and forth with him talking about what to call him and stuff when we jokingly say something along the lines of "maybe not Dad since my track record with such isn't the best." Maybe they open up to Alfred about how their family/ life was before they were adopted by the batfam. Maybe even admit they can't see anyone as a dad figure after them (😭), so the thought is uncomfy for them( this hits in so many ways.) Or how they're scared if they call him dad something will change about Alfred and become like their 'dads'.
Which will undoubtedly hit some strings with Alfred. Seeing as how every 'dad' has failed them to the point they can't fathom or be comfortable with seeing or thinking of someone as a dad. But the fact that BRUCE had played a part in it 💀... Which is what's making the Reader confused and feel unsecured in his own personal relationship with the Reader (on what to call him, but probably in other stuff as well).
Back to the top part of the reader asking what they can call him, and they end up at something along the lines or at calling Alfred Dad.
It will undoubtedly make his heart squeeze and scrumble( One way could be he's being called 'Dad' after so long). Probably make Alfred a lot closer to the reader than before. Probably stepping up to the title and being closer taking care of Reader even more, now that he knows they have that emotional bond( stronger than before and the permission).
For little cute ideas/cenerios I imagine he makes an even greater effort to come to our plays and tournaments and sit front row probably recording.( in a reserved seat next to all the other empty ones 😒). And get a lil prissy when he can't make it (ESPECIALLY IF ITS BC OF THE BATFAM). He asks some of the organizers to record it specifically for him if they aren't doing it already, so he can watch it live (or once handed to him)while doing whatever keeps him from going. All so he can talk about it with us when we come back home and show how proud of us he is.
Definitely gets us gifts for each performance/ tournaments. If he was present he would walk with us a while after it ended and get us ice cream or out for a celebratory dinner. 😭
Okay but now for the lil angst part in that moment when we settle on what to call Alfred whenever it would be similar or is Dad or a different title all together that would be the moment we lose any real attachments to the Batfam. Not seeing them as siblings or parental figures anymore. At most just wanted to impress them but that quickly died off and just just focused on what we do have.
Alfred would also know that that was the moment or the end of the falling bridge with the Batfam and Reader. Which would probably hurt him cause the Batfam is still his family, but now he also has us and sees our neglect and what the batfam's consequences are. Probably breaking his own hope of us being accepted/ integrated into it and the Batfam to being back a normal dysfunctional but loving family with us in it.
Okay but the real ANGST. It's not just the reader and Alfred having heart to heart or other situations between the two of them. BUT INSTEAD BRUCE HEARING READER CALL ALFRED THE TITLE WE SETTLED ON. And it doesn't have to be only Bruce that would work for angst because the others are smart so if they hear Reader call Alfred by the title... They know it doesn't correlate to them and their relationship of being Reader's sibling because Alfred isn't that title to them. Connecting and discovering at the same time that the Reader doesn't see them as siblings and hasn't for a time they weren't even aware of.
Imagining just Bruce sneaking away and thinking by himself or even confronting Alfred 😩😩. The Batkids doing their research seeing Reader live their life completely disconnected from theirs only hammering that Reader doesn't see them as family. The only thing connecting to them being Alfred and even Alfred is a different role in Reader's life than in theirs.
Maybe Batfam finds out about what the Reader tried to get their attention only to give up, maybe they don't and just see the Reader slipping away until the Reader becomes a foggy memory again until the Reader moves away like in the [Not] series everything follows.
Hope you enjoy 🥰🥰💕 drink water 💦
Yeah!!! And since there is another ask that's about the reader considering Alfred their dad, and how Bruce would react to that, I won't be going too much into how Bruce himself would react since I'd like to explain it there when I get to it- but I will say that in very, very simple terms. Bruce is not happy about it. At all.
As for how the whole name thing would start? Alfred would definitely say that you can call him whatever you'd like, but will definitely silently try to nudge you in the direction of calling him dad or something akin to that. He may not expect it to work right away, especially in this scenario where the reader already has a messy relationship with people who were supposed to be their father's in the past. However, when you do call him dad or something similar, he is literally about to cry.
He won't cry in front of you! But he might later-
Regardless, words cannot express the amount of joy he feels when that happens, and as you've mentioned, Alfred does try to not let you down. Unwilling to become another reason why you have a hard time seeing people as your father, or father-figure. He feels more inclined to look after you above everyone else, and tries even harder to be present. There isn't a single event of performance that he'll miss willingly, and even if he does- he has his ways of making it up to you, even if you know that it was out of his hands.
I think a neat detail would also be that the amount of unoccupied seats next to him slowly shorten with time. It starts off with there being a seat for everyone in the Batfam, but as time goes on the amount begins to dwindle, until there's just one for him. Maybe with the occasional one other seat beside him if it's for an event, and you get to sit next to him before going or doing whatever you have to. Further showing how you, as the reader, begin to care less and less about the Batfam, and really only see/recognize Alfred as your family. As there is only one reserved seat for him at each and every performance and tournament.
I think the idea of the Batfam noticing this and trying to fix it, yet the reader still being able to slip away, and them forgetting all over again is both just out right heartbreaking and infuriating.
Like, can you imagine as a neglected!reader, finally having your family notice you (despite you growing used to their lack of attention at this point), only to have them forget you exist all over again? Or just forget about you enough to where you still leave without saying much of anything, and only leave behind a note to the one person you considered family?
And imagine the Batfam- not only feeling, but knowing that they've failed you more than they could ever imagine? Not only making you feel alone and isolated in your own home, since they never noticed you, not only once, but twice? That's borderline unforgivable. They noticed you, and somehow still managed to neglect you all over again. It's astonishing, really. Maybe they do have powers after all.
But really- how I could see that happening is if they get too busy with the idea of you rather you yourself, if that makes sense?
Through their research and everything, they form a version of you in their heads that they're all clinging onto, that they unintentionally don't give the real you a chance. Hell, they don't even give themselves a chance to even see it as they drown in their own delusions. Stuck with plans and ideas they ultimately never saw through, either because they were far too worried to further mess things up (like a certain brooding bat), or were far too certain of the outcome and therefore came up with more ideas and plans that they ended up not doing. Like a certain robin who, after two generations, finally wore pants. So by the time they realize their mistake, (which probably happenss when one of them finally decides to actually act on a plan they made) you're gone. Lost to the wind. Like a distant whisper they nevr quite heard, but dreamed about encountering ever since. Forgetting that chasing and searching were things they could do right from the start instead.
Though Alfred and the reader having a heart to heart? Please, we could all really use that. Forget about how horrible Alfred is behind the scenes- we need the closest thing we can get to a positive influence in this family. Or really just a good source of comfort, honestly.
Though his dying hope does break his heart, he just takes it as another opportunity to fill in the shoes of being your father. Even if at this point it means being your only family out of everyone in the Batfam, then so be it. He'll just have to fill in where they refuse to, but he doesn't mind since it gets him more time with you- and I can imagine that, despite the hurt of realizing that you'll never be 'fully' apart of the Wayne family, at least you have a part with Alfred and the Pennyworth's. And there is some comfort and reassurance that comes with that. Since, while you may not be able to have this big, huge family- at least you have this small, comfortable one right here with Alfred.
Hell, this time around Alfred might even fully support the reader moving away, as he's more certain than ever that he'll still have that connection with them. That he and the reader will actually communicate, and as long as he can still see them and so on- he doesn't mind.
He'll let the Batfam run around, and play dumb at all the right moments with that sassy, sarcastic attitude of his. Letting them know that they've wasted their opportunity- wasted the one real chance they had with you, and probably won't be getting another one.
After all, it isn't his fault that they fucked up. If anything, he's probably the only reason why the reader is connected to the Batfam at all, or even associates with them the smallest amount. It isn't because of Bruce or any of the others. It's because of Alfred. Even if he won't say it out loud, he'll make sure that they all know it one way or another, and though Alfred doesn't necessarily view himself as cruel- he wouldn't mind throwing a little shade if it meant emphazing that point a little further.
You are his kid. His family. Why would they think otherwise?
On a lighter, more wholesome note, I definitely agree with the more light/cuter ideas!!
Alfred is definitely spoiling you if he can help it, and will poorly disguise his favoritism- though probably would stop even trying to hide it all together at some point.
There is never a moment where Alfred doesn't/won't remind you of how proud of you he is, and how much you've improved. He isn't afraid to admit that you're doing a good job or doing the right thing, even if you can be reckless at times, to your face. And if you end up doubting your ability, or just yourself as a whole, Alfred will definitely be there to comfort you, and remind you of how well you've been doing and reiterate how proud you make him.
He wants you to know that he'll always be there for you, and by the time you leave, you still feel that.
Alfred also makes sure to check up on you and tend to your needs, along with spend time with you in other ways- which does include, but isn't limited to; watching films at home, baking/cooking together, sewing, reading, tending to the garden, and just generally being in each other's space. Maybe even a small hang out outside of the manor if you both can help it.
Nevertheless, that was a fun read, and I fully agree!! Make sure to drink some water and rest up too!
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7ndipity · 1 year ago
Text
Safe Place
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: Yoongi wants to know why you’re so reluctant to let him meet your family
Warnings: Angst, mentions of toxic/dysfunctional family(nothing in detail tho) swearing, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to @vicky-chaos for requesting this! Did I cry a lil as I was writing this? Yes.
Masterlist
Requests are open
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“Hey, whatcha looking at?” Yoongi asked, coming to sit with you, or rather slouch into you, as you were browsing through various websites on your phone.
“My mom’s birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, so I’m trying to find something to send as a gift.” You explained, continuing to scroll.
He nodded, thinking for a moment before presenting an idea of his own. “If you want, we could go visit them?” He suggested. “Could be nice surprise?”
He felt your body immediately go stiff against his before quickly trying to cover for yourself, shaking your head. “N-no, we don’t need to do something like that, m-my family doesn’t really like surprises.” You said awkwardly.
“It’s doesn’t have to be a surprise, we could let them know in advance-”
“Yoongi, I-” You took a breath, trying to calm yourself. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, I’m sorry.”
He frowned, studying your expression with caution. “Y/n.”
“Yep?” You hummed, trying to hide your growing anxiety and failing miserably.
“Are we not going to talk about this?” He asked, not wanting to start a fight with you, but needing answers.
Any time the subject of your family came up, or more specifically, Yoongi meeting them, you were quick to change the subject, diverting conversation as far away as possible without an answer or explanation.
The first time it had come up, you’d only been dating a few months, so he could understand that it might’ve felt a bit too soon for you and he’d let it go easily enough, but now you’d been together nearly a year. You’d even met his parents, which was a massive step for him, but it was becoming increasingly clear that you had no intentions of him meeting yours.
“Why don't you want me to meet your family?” He asked,
“I never said that.” You quickly defended.
“Do you though?” He asked, watching you intently.
The silence as you stared back at him was deafening.
“Is it something about me?” He asked. “Are you ashamed of me or something?”
“What?! Of course not!”
“Then what is it?” He pleaded. “Please just tell me!”
Your eyes went to the floor, trying to look somewhere that wasn’t him.
“I don’t want you to meet them.” You said in a small voice.
He blinked. “Why?” He asked, feeling a sinking weight in his stomach as he stared at you.
“It’s… my family… they’re not exactly the best people to be around...” You said unsteadily, struggling to find the words to properly explain.
“What do you mean?” He asked cautiously.
“I, uh…” A hot, traitorous tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another one, making Yoongi’s frustration evaporate almost instantly as he quickly returned to your side, trying to soothe you.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have pressured you.” He said, kicking himself for upsetting you.
“I need to though.” You sniffled “You deserve to know why.”
Slowly, in between quiet tears, you began to explain your rocky history with your family and what life had been like for you growing up in such a dysfunctional environment.
You were still trying to sidestep some of the heavier details of what had occurred, he could tell, but what you did choose to share with him was enough to fill him with rage and sorrow.
He knew his upbringing had been far from ideal, but hearing just a portion of what you had gone through made him shake with anger, the sudden wave of protectiveness towards you flooding his system and taking a surprising amount of self control not to give into, wanting nothing more in that moment than to crush you to his chest and hold you as tight as possible.
He focused on keeping his hands light and gentle as he held one of your hands and rubbed your back soothingly with his other.
Eventually, you finished speaking, a weighted silence settling over the two of you for several moments before he spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” He asked quietly.
“Because I was ashamed, and I didn’t want to bring you down.” You said shakily. “I’ve been so happy here with you, I didn’t want them to change things between us.”
“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin up, his tone soft but serious as he stared into your eyes. “There is nothing in this world that could ever change the way I feel about you, alright? You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. What happened back then was fucked up, but it was not your fault.”
Your eyes brimmed over with fresh tears at his words, feeling the truth in them resonate within your very bones. Even though you technically already knew them, hearing them from Yoongi somehow made them feel more real, more official.
“C’mere.” He pulled you to his chest, rocking the two of you gently as you cried again.
“Thank you for telling me, for helping me understand.” He spoke. “I’m so sorry you had to relive any of that. I shouldn’t have put you on the spot that way.”
“You couldn’t have known.” You said hoarsely.
“From now on, I’ll follow your lead on any decisions regarding them. We don’t ever have to see them if you don’t want to.” He said. “As far as I’m concerned, your family is here with me now.”
“Really?” You looked up at him
“Yes,” He nodded. “If you want, that is.”
You nodded. “I’d like that."
The ghosts of the past might linger in corners, but they couldn’t touch you here with him, not anymore.
You’d found your home and safe place, with Yoongi.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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therealcocoshady · 18 days ago
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Kinktober - Day 15 - Tattoo
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Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
A/N : Hey everyone ! Here is what I wrote for the Kinktober day 15 "tattoo" prompt. I hope you enjoy it !
CW : Angst - Tattoo
It was April 11, 2014, and Detroit was blanketed in a restless chill. The kind of night where people huddled together at home or in bars to stay warm, where the streets felt empty but alive with shadows. Marshall slipped into a dimly lit bar on the east side, trying to find a corner of the world quiet enough to escape his own head. He’d been here a few times, what seemed lifetimes ago, enough that the bartender recognized him but didn’t bother him. He liked that anonymity. He never particularly enjoyed people recognizing him but tonight especially, he was not in the mood. 
He knew better than to show up here. After years of sobriety, the smell of bourbon and stale beer was like a fist in the gut, a reminder of the escape he’d fought so hard to turn away from. But tonight was different. The anniversary of Proof’s death always hit him harder than he expected, every single year. Tonight, it felt like his best friend’s laughter was just beyond his reach, and he didn’t know how to quiet that ache in his chest. His hand hovered over a glass of water, but his eyes kept darting to the bottle behind the bar.
That’s when he noticed you,  the pretty creature sitting two stools down, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, staring into your own drink with a thoughtful frown. You looked like you’d just been through a rough night yourself, maybe a rough year. You turned, catching his gaze, and gave him a small, sad smile. “I know that look,” you said softly. Your voice was calm, with a hint of a rasp that made your words feel lived-in, like you’d been through enough to recognize pain. He blinked, a little surprised. “What look?”
“The look that says you’re not really here. You’re somewhere else.” You lifted your glass, inspecting the drink like it was some kind of strange artifact. “Thinking about something you can’t get back.”He was taken aback, but something about your words hit deep. “Yeah,” he replied, barely above a whisper. He glanced at your glass. “Should you be drinking that?”. He knew someone who was in a bar for the wrong reasons when he saw one. You shrugged. “Nah. But it makes me feel a little less alone.” You met his eyes, your gaze piercing but soft. “But I won’t if you won’t.” You shared a moment of quiet understanding, something almost tangible. It was a pact without words. He pushed his glass away, and you did the same.
You ended up talking for hours, sliding into topics that usually stayed locked in the depths of your own minds. You told him about your life, growing up in a dysfunctional family, having had to cut ties with them in order to give yourself a chance of survival, about losing someone you loved a few years back, and how every April felt like an uphill battle. He shared stories about Proof, memories that he rarely spoke of to anyone, stories that he usually kept close, like a bruise that never quite healed. With you, however, he didn’t feel the need to filter himself. You were both strangers but something about each other felt oddly familiar. As if, for once, none of you really had to hide. 
“Why do you think it’s so hard?” you asked at one point, her voice a gentle murmur in the quiet of the nearly empty bar. “Because I keep trying to move forward, but sometimes it feels like I’m leaving him behind.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You nodded, something flickering in your eyes. “I get that. Like if you don’t carry it with you, then it’s like it never happened. Like they never mattered as much as they did.” You fell into silence, both staring at the worn bar top, letting the weight of their words settle. 
Then, impulsively, you looked up at him, a glint in your eye. “You ever do something crazy just because it feels right?” He raised an eyebrow. “Crazy how?” You grinned, a little spark of mischief breaking through the sadness in your face. “Like...getting a tattoo in the middle of the night to remember a random stranger who actually gets it.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, a rare sound these days. One look at you and he was not surprised that you’d come up with such an odd idea. Your sleeves were rolled up and he could see a few tattoos adorning your arms. He didn’t ask about them but your vibe alone told him that these pieces carried actual significance. He wasn’t the type to get a matching tattoo with a stranger he’d met hours ago in a bar he had no business being in. Not anymore, at least. But there was something about your offer that felt freeing, a reminder that tonight was real, that your connection was real. “Yeah,” he said finally, nodding. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
You left the bar together, stepping into the cold Detroit air that nipped at your skin. After a short cab ride to a tattoo parlor that stayed open late for reasons neither of you cared to question, you each picked out something small but meaningful— a combination of dots and lines (morse code, actually), that spelled the word « stranger », as some sort of poetic inside joke. He decided to do it on his ankle, somewhere he could easily hide it and keep it personal without having to explain the significance to other people. You decided to get it on the wrist, thinking it would make a great addition to your sleeve. You sat beside each other as the artist worked, your shoulders brushing occasionally. You each winced a little but laughed it off, sharing glances that held unspoken words. When it was done, you held up your wrist and ankle beside each other, admiring the matching tattoos in the dim shop light. 
Neither of you really knew why this moment mattered as much as it did, but that was the thing about connection—it didn’t have to make sense. To him, you were a stranger who somehow understood him better than most people who’d been in his life for years. He was Marshall, stripped of his fame, his defenses, just a guy who missed his best friend and found comfort in an unexpected companion. To you, he was a stranger who had emerged into the night and managed to distract you of some dark, very dark thoughts. Unknowingly, he had probably spared the county police of some macabre discovery in a ditch the next morning. 
As you stepped out of the tattoo shop, the Detroit night felt impossibly quiet. The city lights flickered against the dark, casting a soft glow on your face. Marshall found himself studying you, memorizing the way your eyes held that spark of mystery and melancholy. The ache he’d felt all night had softened, replaced by a warmth he hadn’t known he was searching for. He cleared his throat, feeling an odd sense of urgency. In that moment, you meant so many things to him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let you go. And it didn’t hurt that he found you quite gorgeous, too. “I, uh…I don’t usually do this, but…would you mind giving me your number?”.  You looked at him, the corner of your mouth tugging up in a small, wistful smile. You shook her head slowly, a hint of sadness shadowing your gaze. “I can’t.”
“Can’t?” He laughed, though he felt his chest tighten. “Why not?”. 
“If I give you my number, then I’ll be waiting,” you said gently. “I’ll be waiting for a call that might never come, and if it doesn’t…” You trailed off, shrugging slightly. “It’ll ruin what tonight was. This was beautiful. Let’s leave it like that.” His smile faded, replaced by something raw, something honest. “I don’t want to leave it like that,” he whispered. “This night—it doesn’t feel like just any night. You…you don’t feel like just any stranger.” You looked down, fingers tracing the edge of your sleeve, and he could see the same conflict playing out in your expression. “I know. But sometimes, things are meant to be perfect in a single moment. And that’s all.”
He shook his head, his words coming out in a rush. “But what if we’re meant to be more than that? What if you’re the one I’ve been waiting for? What if I’m the one you’ve been waiting for, Y/N? Isn’t there a small part of you who believes in love at first sight?”. You laughed softly, almost in disbelief, her gaze falling to the fresh ink on your wrist. In hindsight, you didn’t really know him, but you wouldn’t have pegged him for a hopeless romantic who found fate at any opportunity. “You really think that?” He nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I think. All I know is…you showed up on one of the hardest nights of my life, and it doesn’t feel like some random coincidence. It feels like…like I was meant to find you tonight. Maybe it’s stupid. But what if it’s not?” You lifted your gaze to meet his, and for a long moment, you just looked at each other, standing there in the quiet, the city’s hum fading into the background. And then, almost without thinking, he leaned in, and you met him halfway, your lips soft and warm against his. The kiss was tender, almost hesitant, like neither of you wanted to break the fragile spell that was there. It tasted of secrets and promises, of words none of you had dared to say aloud. When you finally pulled apart, you were looking at him with an intensity that made his heart race. Your fingers lingered on his face, brushing a stray lock of your hair from his brow.
“If we’re meant to be, Marshall,” you said softly, “then fate will find a way to bring us back together.” You offered a quiet, almost sad smile. “And if we do meet again—if by some miracle, life crosses our paths again—then I’ll marry you right there, no questions asked.” He felt a strange mixture of hope and dread settle in his chest. He wanted to argue, to tell you it didn’t have to be that way, that he could call you tomorrow and keep whatever this was going. But something in your expression told him you’d made up her mind. You had mentioned leaving Detroit the next day and something in your gaze told him it was better to let you go. This night was a gift, and you weren’t willing to let it become something ordinary by dragging it out into the everyday world. Especially in a place that had been the setting for so many hurts and disappointments already. 
“Promise me,” he said, swallowing hard. “Promise me that if we ever see each other again, you’ll keep that promise.” You nodded, a solemn, almost playful look in your eyes. “I promise.” You lingered there for a moment, standing in the glow of the streetlight, neither of you really wanting to be the first to walk away. But then you took a step back, giving him one last look, a look that he knew he’d carry with him for years. “Goodbye, Marshall,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady. And then, without another word, you turned and walked into the shadows, leaving him alone under the streetlight, watching as you disappeared into the night.
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wangxianficrecs · 5 months ago
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Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen
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Just go forward like you mean it
by tawaen
M, WIP, 67k, Wangxian
Summary: Before Wei Wuxian can say he will join Jiang Cheng and attend the Wen indoctrination, a letter describing the burning of the Cloud Recesses reaches Lotus Pier. Realizing the danger to the Jiang sect, he decides to stay behind to help with the defenses and keep his sect safe. While he agonizes over the fate of the disciples sent as little more than hostages, he upgrades the wards of the Jiang sect to stand against the inevitable Wen army. Lotus Pier will survive, and Wei Wuxian changes his own fate and the fate of the Sunshot Campaign. Kay's comments: A WIP, but only barely! I hope I manage to post this in time for WIP Rec Week, because tawaen updates quickly and there's only one chapter missing! I really, really enjoyed the direction this canon divergence took with Wei Wuxian staying behind in Lotus Pier during the indoctrination and making sure there's at least one person who prepares for the inevitable Wen invasion. I won't spoil much, but he's also becoming a rogue cultivator and finds his way to Lan Wangji sooner and you know, I'm so weak for that. Can't wait for the last chapter! Excerpt: “A decision on aiding the Lan need not be made now. However, our disciples will need to leave early tomorrow. A-Xian, I assume you will go with A-Cheng?” Jiang Fengmian looks over with an indulgent smile, but it is strained at the edges. Jiang Yanli turns in her seat to face him with open concern. She would send no one if that were possible. At some point during the argument she stopped peeling lotus seeds, remaining still and impassive to avoid drawing attention to herself. Her hands clench with her nails digging into her palms. Wei Wuxian didn't even notice. He gives her a reassuring smile. Wei Wuxian salutes, “Uncle Jiang, at this time, I would like to stay in Lotus Pier. We should not send our two best fighters to Qishan. One of us should remain behind in case of further Wen demands.” While Jiang Yanli relaxes slightly, Jiang Cheng turns sharply to look at him with betrayal in his eyes. This would normally make Wei Wuxian change course – but the Lan wards failed. Who is to say the Jiang wards would prevail?
pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, fall of lotus pier, inventor wei wuxian, genius wei wuxian, no golden core transfer, sect leader jiang yanli, jiang cheng has no golden core, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family dynamics, bad parents jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan, developing relationship, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending
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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
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