#but it's sad because that specific group is a place of solace for me

[paranormaljones]

so like. i know this is not an uncommon experience and i'm probably silly for venting about it on tumblr like it is but. two people in a beloved group chat that i'm in are beefing and i'm not involved in the conflict at all nor is it really my place to jump in and try to mediate because 1) i don't have all the details and 2) i need to stop doing that out of a trauma response and just let people sort out their own issues, but it is stressing me out badly.

[uncommonincorrectquotes]

A: dude. beans. B: bean assault rifle. shoots beans. C: Mmmm....beans. How delicious, delectable, and delightful. Every night I cherish the 3 hour before bedtime I spend sucking each bean one by one through my bendy straw, trying my hardest to propel the beans down my throat in one swift slurp. The way the beans travel through the twisting straw remind me of Willy Wonka’s factory, and how it makes me wonder. Can you imagine? Imagine if Willy had a bean factory... constantly in motion, constantly producing those sweet beans, packing them into cans where they marinate in the finest of bean nectar. If only things were that way, how happier the Oompa Loompas would be to constantly be surrounded by the erotic bean aroma. Unfortunately, Willy Wonka isn’t real, and neither is that dreamy bean factory. Sometimes I can’t sleep because of that. I wake up and realize “there’s no bean factory” and I cry for the remainder of the night. I hate those dreaded nights, and I keep a can of beans at my bedside to pray to when the times get dark. It’s difficult, you know? Living in a family of those who can’t respect beans on the same level as you... which is why I devised my ode to beans, consisting of 26 arguments for the divinity of beans. They are recited as follows: C: Beans cannot die. Even the digestive system deals virtually no damage to them. Holy water is just bean water that never had beans in it. If you throw a bean up in the air, it always comes back down to you because it loves you so much. The origin of the word “bean” comes from the point in history when they were discovered by an Italian explorer, who exclaimed “look a him-a-bein so good!” The concept of the “return address” in the mailing system was not intended for returning mail. Rather, it required to use a return address so that if a person receives beans from an anonymous sender, they can at least send back a thank you note. The first prototype of a gun used beans as ammunition, but the beans possessed such a sacred conscience that they would stop midair, refusing to kill soldiers on the enemy line. Studies show that 98% of those who starved to death had not eaten beans in the past week. The effort of beans to end racism was the largest effort ever made concerning race. However, the effort was ineffective, due to the beans’ inability to speak. Can you prove God is real? No. Can you prove beans are real? Yes. C: The lack of bean flavored products is due to the divine flavor that cannot be manufactured. If someone is allergic to beans, do not trust them. Run away. Fast. Millennials use the slang word “beaned” to describe someone who has been gotten. Specifically, someone who has been gotten so bad that they can only turn to beans as their solace. Bean-head, the greatest compliment of the English language, is misunderstood by heretics as an insult. Sometimes I put a smiley face on a can of beans and leave it on my pillow so my parents think I’m sleeping when I’m actually eating beans. To become a saint under the bean church, you must use beans in place of tears, and shed beans at the sight of harrowing mistreatment of beans. Beans are the only beings to be simultaneously lawful, neutral, and chaotic. Beans are everything. For every bean you put in your mouth there is one more bean in your mouth than there was before you put the bean in your mouth. Mmm..... beans. Beans will never betray you. Unless you ask the beans to betray you, and then you can organize a plan with the beans so that they can do what you want without accidentally making you sad. Beans are soul essence. Beans are the 4th subatomic particle, and beans are constantly in their own state of matter. Beans are the holy material on which we will build our future society, and no figure from any religious group has dared to deny this fact. B: A: B: are you okay C: b e A n S

[jngsjngs]

(if its not too personal) what was the specific instance that not only made you want to write hsc but to share it with us too?

i’ve always loved to write and in all honesty knew i was pretty good at it (if only because i had the support of so many incredible teachers over the years) but the most i had ever done was the occasional essay and a group project in high school in which we had to write a script and record it (sort of like an audio book). although daydreaming was a daily occurrence that project was my only attempt at fiction for several years because the thought of putting words down on paper seemed oddly perplexing. i genuinely thought nothing i had to say was worth anyone’s time so publishing my work or even reading it aloud was an impossibility.

in hindsight a lot of my insecurities stemmed from a severe case of imposter syndrome (and it’s still a burden i carry now). i don’t think i learned the significance of sharing until i took my first creative writing course a few years later. so many of my peers poured their hearts into the pieces they brought to class and i would have never known that sense of community had they not been brave enough to invite other people into their world. i’m not sure if i was inspired to write hsc solely because of that but at the very least all of these experiences gave me the confidence to believe it was actually possible.

at that point of my life my depression had taken a turn for the worst and the only place i could find solace was in stories. i read so many books and watched just as many shows but after finishing them i realized that there were only a few i felt deeply enough. something about that was incredibly isolating. looking back it was probably because mainstream media wasn’t discussing mental health to the extent that they do now so i had no idea other people struggled with it the way that i did. i came up with hsc because i wanted to be a part of that conversation in case even one person could relate.

sometimes i feel selfish because i wish i received more comments and sometimes i’m sad because a few of the ones i do receive are criticisms (sometimes constructive and sometimes not). often i get frustrated because i’m not the best at execution and even more often than that i get excited because i can recognize how much i’ve improved. most days i’m happy because those who reach out (on tumblr and ao3 in particular) are only ever kind. but i am always content because i am able to feel deeply regardless, and because i never feel as alone as i once did.

as i’ve said before rei as a character isn’t based entirely on me as a person but it’s only natural that my experiences helped shaped some of hers. i think that’s the most important part. after all, the people who read hsc come from all over the world and have lived so many experiences of their own. despite our differences there is something about the story that brings us together and it’s for that reason i continue to write it. thank u for ur patience and support all these years. i don’t think i’ve quite mastered how to express my gratitude but i hope u know wherever u are that i appreciate u.

p.s. the sun is rising and i have not slept so this might be totally incoherent (the lack of punctuation doesn’t help at all i’m sure) i apologize for the strain on ur eyes but if u made it this far i am all the more grateful

[appleflavoredkitkats]

sappitus nappitus, tuberculosis, quack quack, fun sus dy, and callahan :)

:DDD thank u for the ask!! <3

sapnap: what is your favourite part about watching the smp?

two main things: 1.) the philosophy and morals taught, and 2.) watching heavier lore w @/dsmpanalysis mods! i've always been a big fan of any piece of media that really dives into more complex and convoluted topics. i always knew minecraft was a good platform for this as i grew up watchin mc roleplay, so when i watched the dsmp, it didn't disappoint! i have so much fun dissecting a characters' motivations and philosophies, and i don't really like adding my opinions on whether i aree with their decisions or not, but i always revelled in knowing a character's complexity. i don't care much about their morals— rather, i enjoy understanding how a character came to be.

and secondly, dsmpanalysis mods my beloved. easily one of my favorite things that came out from watching the dsmp. i think when you consume such a big piece of media like the dsmp, you really have to find a good group of friends to consume it in a healthier manner. the mods kind of became my crutch, a good crutch at that because i've kind of taught myself a lot of philosophies and life lessons FROM dissecting the dream smp's morals and philosophies (shoutout to prince specifically for this lmao). the dream smp genuinely taught me a lot of stuff as a person and that i can never part from me. and besides that, they're honestly a good time— go look at the mods list and follow all of them when you can, they deserve it.

tubbo: who is your favourite duo on the smp? 

as of late, george and fundy have been one of my favorites! i like any weird/uncommon duo because i thrive off of interactions from people who don't stream content together often you know. quackity and dream is also a duo i love a lot because they can be really endearing (/p) when their conversations are more chill. shoutout to ponk and fundy, fundy and quackity, george and quackity, fundy and hbomb, and sapnap and niki as well :D

quackity: which arc was your favourite? 

hard question only because i don't often like making favorites lmao. i do have to say that the election arc was pretty good and very hype-worthy— nothing could ever beat how good that presidential debate was, especially when dream logged on? GOOD SHIT. THAT IS UNDERRATED GOOD SHIT. las nevadas also has a special place in my heart because it's been the first arc in so long that made me feel something. there's something about the brokenness of these characters finding solace in one another despite them working for a gambling ground is so intriguing to me. and again, i work off of rare character dynamics, and i really love the dynamic between the las nevadas crew!

fundy: who is your favourite underrated character? 

this ask being assigned to fundy's name is a little on the nose because i would pick fundy. while he has been gaining more viewership lately, i just think that the way his viewers perceive him now don't do any justice for fundy's character because he has kept his arc ongoing ever since l'manberg. it's been consistent, and it sucks because new viewers don't try giving an effort to looking back on fundy's older stuff despite being important for his character.

other than fundy? skeppy and ant have a special place in my heart for being kind of interesting! ant's not too emotional in terms of roleplay but it serves his character really well, and for skeppy, i always believe the best actors come from the most goofy and comedic people as they know how to dedicate themselves to a bit. other honorable mentions would be purpled, foolish, connor, alyssa, and ponk as well! purpled is good when it comes to natural acting, foolish's character is very unique and distinct, connor is connor and i love him for that, alyssa doesn't really have an established character but i enjoy her a LOT when she was on, and ponk is really good at dialogue with others and establishing character!

callahan: what are your favourite animations?

truth be told, i do not watch much animations because it makes me really… envious? like i get the sudden urge to be better— i remembered watching sad-ist's stuff and having an overwhelming feeling of “you're not as good as her” wash through me so i tend to avoid animations despite appreciating the effort placed into it.

from the animations i've seen though, of course we've gotta give a shoutout to sad-ist. other than that, i've seen a las nevadas animation from paprikup on twt that was REALLY good, and channel without a name's fundy requiem animatic always has a special place in my heart.

send me a character from this ask game!

[flowerspecial]

You Are A Waiter - JB Imagine

Today was one of those awful days where you seemed to be rushed off your feet yet time was going incredibly slowly. Every customer you came across was either creepy or just downright rude. You couldn't wait for this shift to be over, all you wanted to do was get home and curl into your duvet and watch tv.

Your friend was substantially more busy than you were and she came up to you in the kitchen.

“Please can you cover some of my tables? Everyone seems to be coming in massive groups and I am struggling to keep control right now.” Your friend looked flustered as you tried to brush the loose tendrils of her hair away from her face. “And everyone seems to want to change their order so much that it is nothing like the dish we sell on the menu. I think the kitchen staff are going to kill me in a second.”

“Calm down, we can get through this. I will take your next two tables so you can have a chance to breathe! We haven't got that long before our shift is over, we can easily get it done!” You patted your friend’s shoulder in support and headed back out of the kitchen. You were helping one of your tables with their order when you noticed a group of boys being led to a table that was in your friend’s section.

Before your friend even had to look at you, you made your way over to the table. As you approached them, you couldn't help but notice how stunning each and every one of these boys were. Just your luck to have beautiful customers when you thought you looked absolutely awful.

“Hello, I will be your server this evening. Here are some menus, I will let you read them over and I will come back in a few seconds.” You gave the boys a warm smile but you could feel one of them stare significantly more at you than the others. It felt as if this boy was trying to stare into your soul, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't feel slightly exposed.

“By the way, you really missed out on that table. Those boys are stunning!” You'd tease your friend as you both stood near the bar.

“Trust me, you can have them. I look absolutely awful right now, there is no way I want to embarrass myself in front of another group of boys.” Your friend would laugh.

After a few moments, you headed back to the table. You felt a little bit nervous as their conversation fell silent as you approached the table.

“Oh sorry were you discussing something important? I can come back if you want?” You were worried that you had interrupted them, so you tried to find an excuse to leave.

“No, we weren't talking about anything serious. You can stay.” One of the boys said to you. You asked the group what drinks they would like, and as each of them spoke you were able to get a closer look at each of them. It was as if these boys had come straight out of a magazine, they all looked different but they were so beautiful in their own right. But there was one boy that was making you go a bit weak at the knees, and it was taking all of your professionalism to keep a calm and collected front.

“I don't really know what I would like to drink, what do you recommend?” The boy who made your heart flutter spoke. His hair was as dark as a raven and his eyes were so piercing that they could pierce a hole into your body. He seemed mysterious yet very open, and he intrigued you greatly.

“We do some great in house cocktails, but I’m not sure you will go for them…”

“I’ll go with whatever you choose for me, you're the one who works here.” The raven haired boy smiled at you, and you could feel the red tinge in your cheeks appear. You moved your head slightly in an attempt to hide it, but you could see that all of the boys noticed.

“Okay, erm, I will go and get your drinks. Would you like to order some food as well? I recommend the chicken in white wine sauce, and the salmon.”

Before any of the other boys got a chance to speak, the boy piped up. “Which is your favourite?”

“Excuse me?”

“The chicken, or salmon, which is your favourite?” He had one elbow on the table as he leaned in slightly.

“Oh, I prefer the salmon, but that's just me…” Any sense of professionalism was fading with every word this boy was saying. It was unheard of for someone to have this effect on you. Yet here you were, standing in front of a boy you have literally never met before, with rose tinted cheeks and stumbling over your words. You made a mental note to punch your friend once this shift was over.

“I’ll go for the salmon then.” This boy’s confidence radiated throughout the entire restaurant, and it started to feel like you were under some sort of spell.

You used the time it took for the food to cook to actually try to regain some self control. You made a point of going to all your tables but somewhat ignoring the table in your friend’s section. But you couldn't help but look over from time to time, and every time you did you noticed that the boy was already looking at you. Now what made this boy different from others was that he was clearly very unapologetic about looking at you, because he didn't stop once you looked at him. Instead he would just smile, and the smile would vary between flirty and friendly. Every time you'd see one of his friends laugh at him, as they noticed the little game that he was playing with you.

But your nerves got to the point where you needed to seek solace in the kitchen. It was quite ironic actually, in probably the most stressful area of the whole restaurant, was where you were trying to find some peace.

When the food was ready, you were so reluctant to take the plates over to the boys, but you knew that you needed to do it. You took a moment before you headed out to press down your apron and to take a deep breath. You arrived at the table with the dishes in hand, and you handed them out without taking a glance at the boy who made your heart flutter.

However, unintentionally you had left his dish to the end, so you had no choice but to look at when you placed it in front of him.

“Ah, I see you left the best till last.” The boy would smirk at you. “I’m JB by the way.” His smile was intoxicating and you were really struggling to not stare.

You kinda just nodded and gave back a smile before you walked away from the table. Your friend informed you that she was back on top of her tables so she could take the table of boys back off your hands, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed.

The night carried on with your friend being their new server and you focusing only on your section. You don't really know what you expected, you had only just met JB that day and you were almost positive that he was being nice just to be friendly. But you felt a little bit sad that you couldn't live in that fantasy for a little bit longer.

You noticed that the boys were starting to move around as they asked your friend for the cheque. Once she handed it over to them she walked up to you with a knowing smile on her face.

“My table has asked for you, specifically the boy who was eyeing you up earlier.”

You finished what you were doing and walked over to the boys, and JB is the one who has hold of the cheque.

“Was everything satisfactory for you?” You asked politely.

“It was to start with, but then you left me.” JB said rather bluntly.

“Oh...well...this table actually isn't in my section. I was just covering for my friend.” You tried to explain to them.

“Couldn't you have just stayed with me until I had finished.” The use of first person pronouns was not missed by you. The fact that he kept singling himself out he was in a group was something that you noticed straight away. JB had a playful put adorning his lips and you were quite shocked at how forward this boy was.

“I’m sorry, but I had my own tables to worry about.”

“Why are they more important than me?” You knew that JB was only playing, but you really did not have an answer to him, so you kinda looked at the other boys desperate for someone to save you.

“Alright JB that is enough, anymore of this and you will get us banned from this restaurant.” One of the other boys, smiling earnestly to you.

“Okay, okay I’ll stop. But because you left me, I think that maybe you should give me your number?”

“And why should I do that?” You played along.

“Because you wouldn't want to give a customer a bad last impression. Also, I think you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I’d like to take you out on a date.”

Normally you would never give your number out to strange men, but there was something about JB that seemed different, so you grabbed your pen and wrote your number down on his receipt.

JB smiled gleefully and made a point of showing you that he had typed your number into his phone.

“I will message you tonight, see you later.” JB said, as he gave your shoulder a quick squeeze before following the rest of the boys out of the restaurant.

You just stood frozen in your spot as you tried to collect your thoughts about what had just happened. But you knew one thing for sure, maybe you weren't going to punch your friend after all...

[ingravinoveritas]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Michael Sheen lately, and what it’s meant to be a fan of his for a little over a year now (is that really it? It somehow feels much longer). 

One of the things I knew right away--largely from experiences in other fandoms--is to not put the person you admire on a pedestal, to remember that they are human and imperfect and flawed. Michael himself did the work of asserting this, acknowledging in multiple interviews how temperamental and fiery (feral, if you will) he could sometimes be--albeit in the most charming and self-effacing way possible.

But what I’ve come to realize now is that there is a difference between knowing that someone has that side to them...and actually seeing it.

Before I go any further, let me state that I know Covid-19 and the resulting lockdown has done a number on all of us, has created circumstances and situations no one ever expected to be dealing with. Much of what I’ve observed and felt about Michael started before quarantine, however, but has become even more exacerbated in the last six months. And while lockdown is stressful for all of us, it does not excuse the distressing--and often downright unpleasant--behavior in which Michael has engaged.

Let’s begin at the beginning, at the exact moment when I became a fan of Michael’s. I still remember it perfectly. It wasn’t something I was seeking or expecting, but then this tweet happened:

I have been writing fanfic for many years, but this was the first time (and perhaps still the only) that I remember someone standing up so vocally for fanfic writers and readers. Michael wrote this not as an observer of the Good Omens fan community, but as a member of it, as someone who found solace and comfort in this world in the way so many of us have.

Not long after that, I started mainlining Michael’s filmography, diving headfirst into all the wonderfully weird roles he has taken on in his career. His powerful onscreen presence combined with sheer raw talent--made primarily visible by him repeatedly being the one shining bright spot in otherwise mediocre films--along with his plentiful Welsh charisma and incredible selflessness in promoting and giving to noble causes, to doing whatever he could to make people’s lives better, was what completely won me over.

(Of course, it wasn’t until the blatant flirting with David Tennant and the GO Press Tour of Endless Mouth Staring that I was most assuredly done for, but that’s a whole other story.)

That was the Michael Sheen I became a fan of. That was the man I came to admire. And right now, I’m not sure what has happened to him, but I worry.

I worry because the only times he has looked genuinely happy lately is either when he did Staged with David, or when he is doing interviews talking about work/causes/his baby daughter.

I worry because, whether out of desperation or boredom, he’s up tweeting at 2 o’clock in the morning every single night.

I worry because when he has blocked people--which by itself is not a problem, because of course he can block whoever he wants--that instead of doing so quietly, he draws attention to it, seemingly making examples of people on purpose, and then goes back to tweeting like always, as if nothing happened at all.

I worry because that welcoming and warm place that his Twitter used to be, where he spoke to an entire community and included everyone, is now him speaking to a very select and specific group of people, while the rest of us are excluded.

(Before this point is raised, I am aware that Michael has over half a million followers on Twitter and so cannot possibly respond to everyone who comments on his tweets. I do not and have never expected a reply, but there is a strange sort of undercurrent to his repeatedly responding to the same subgroup of fans while also ignoring the rest, because it unconsciously creates the idea of that segment of the fandom as the only one that matters.)

As I mentioned before, I knew this side of him existed. That “feral Welshness” was one of the things that initially attracted me to Michael, as it did many of us. But having passion is not the same thing as being volatile, and while he has always tread that fine line, it seems like he has now gone over it. Yet I am still a fan of his. I am still attracted to Michael, still interested in him as a person, but it seems like the person I am interested in has retreated behind a mask, and that makes me sad. Sad and worried for him, for his loved ones, and for all his fans.

I miss that man in the tweet above. I hope he is doing okay.

And I hope we’ll see him again one day.

[akkermans]

( madelyn cline / cis woman ) PHILIPPA ‘PIP’ AKKERMANS is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in JOURNALISM and is known for being THE DESPONDENT as SHE can be CURIOUS and INSIGHTFUL as well as SELF-PUNISHING and MOODY. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of SMOKE RISING FROM A CIGARETTE, THE CRUNCH OF LEAVES UNDERFOOT, INCOHERENT SCRIBBLINGS IN A NOTEBOOK.

hi hello hi i’m hero, i’m 22, she/they and i live in the est tz! i’m a recentish graduate who likes horror, my cat, and a damn fine cup of coffee!! i’m so excited to be here w/ pip!! if u wld like to plot, give this a like or hmu on my discord @ ‘garlic bed #3345′!!

full name: philippa ‘pip’ akkermans 

birthdate: june 24, 1998 

age: 22 

gender: cisgender woman 

pronouns: she/her 

zodiac: cancer 

nationality: dutch-american 

ethnicity: white

hometown: utrecht, the netherlands

languages: dutch, german, english 

family: 

julian akkermans, father 

lotte de vries, stepmother

amelia akkermans, mother (deceased)

sophie akkermans, twin sister (deceased)

orientation: bisexual biromantic 

religion: atheist (formerly catholic) 

height: 5 ft 6 in 

distinguishing features: thin scar from crown of head to right eyebrow, eyes, lips 

character inspo: theo crain, alaska young, shane and ryan from buzzfeed unsolved, camille preaker

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: death, car accident, alcohol and drug use, mental illness (depression, ptsd)

born in utrecht, the netherlands to a dutch father and american mother, pip akkermans’ life has been marked with tragedy since she was born. it seems to follow her. she was born five minutes before her twin sister, sophie, but as the two girls took their first breath, their mother took her last, leaving julian akkermans a single father. 

growing up without a mother, pip and sophie found solace in each other, forming a bond akin to many twins, one so close, so dependent, it was like they were in their own little bubble. sophie was always the bright one, the one who walked into a room and immediately lit it up. pip was always the quieter of the two, her energy more dour, more withdrawn. but together they were a team, causing trouble left and right, getting out of it with sophie’s sweet smile. 

their father was never the same after their mother died, but the coldness that possessed julian was all they’ve ever known. often times he was out of the house, unable to properly step up in the role of father to girls that were the spitting image of his lost love and the sole reason she’s gone. he drank. a lot. but he was never violent, simply sad. 

he starts going out a lot, and eventually, brings home a woman that he says is going to become their step mother. a wedding quickly ensues. there’s a meanness in her, a clear disdain for the twins. but they don’t care, they don’t need to. they have each other. they’ll always have each other. 

they’re fourteen and visiting amsterdam for the weekend when their car is hit head on by another, there’s enough momentum to flip them twice. the driver and pip are fine, minor injuries, but sophie passes away before anyone arrives, her hand in her sister’s as she takes her last breath. 

pip is distraught, and for obvious reasons, she’s lost the better part of herself, even though she promised she wouldn’t go away. if her dad is heartbroken, he doesn’t show it. he simply continues to pull away. eventually sending pip to live with her aunt in america, rhode island to be specific. 

she doesn’t exactly adjust well, not only is she still reeling from the death of her sister, but she’s experiencing intense feelings of detachment and nightmares of sophie every night, among other symptoms. her aunt eventually takes her to a psychologist, where she’s eventually diagnosed with depression and ptsd. 

thus begins her long journey into managing her mental health, her aunt showing a surprising amount of support. she wishes on some level, that she had always grown up with her, that her father sent them away when they were children, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. maybe sophie would still be here. 

for the first year in america, she doesn’t quite have friends, because she prefers her usual solitude. but eventually, she finds her group of friends, within her soccer team, her clubs, anything to get her mind off of her old life. 

she tries to be normal, she really does, but she knows something is off– she feels empty, all the time, and her medication makes her feel like a zombie. eventually she falls into a crowd that is prone to partying, drinking, smoking. she’s sneaking out most nights to join them at their spot. 

her senior year, she spins out, has a very public breakdown, that ends up leading to her taking a leave of absence from school, and essentially once again, returning to pariah status. 

she does manage to graduate and get into thales university, by sheer force and extracurriculars, where she begins majoring in journalism, because it’s always been something she’s interested in, having been a part of her school’s newspaper before, well, everything. 

she meets nana in one of their gen eds, and they hit it off immediately. they’re practically inseparable for a few years, until there’s an incident of pip being caught in a compromising position with one of nana’s flings at the time (it wasn’t what it looked like) and before she has a chance to explain, they’re no longer speaking.

 nana goes missing a few weeks afterwards, and the emptiness comes back, feeling guilty as if it was her fault. as if everything that has happened has been a result of knowing pip and her general trail of misery. she was going to apologize, too. she just never got the chance. 

now with the death of steven, her curiosity is piqued, her journalistic instinct triggered by the mystery afoot, and focusing on that means she doesn’t have to think about herself, because by god, she does not want to think about herself. 

TL;DR: pip and her twin sister, sophie, are born in utrecht, the netherlands– their mother dies when they’re born. their father withdraws, eventually remarrying a bitter woman. when pip and sophie are 14, they’re involved in an accident that takes sophie’s life, and leaves pip alone, a bit traumatized. she moves to america to live with her maternal aunt, and goes to high school there, until she essentially has a breakdown her senior year. she meets nana her first year of thales, and they’re inseparable until a misunderstanding a month or two before she disappeared. now with steven’s death, she’s using her journalism skills to investigate it all. 

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

between the melancholy is a very bright girl. she’s always been rather inquisitive and observant, the quieter one of the akkermans twins. as she grows older, learns to live without her sister, learns to live alone, she grows into her own voice. she becomes someone unafraid to speak her mind, simply because she has nothing left to lose. she’s a bit dry, a bit sarcastic, and her humor can border morbid on occasion because she’s gotta laugh or else she’ll cry. she has a bit of trouble sticking her nose in places it shouldn’t be. she’s rather loyal, but it takes a lot for her to trust you– she trusted nana, and look where that got her. that being said, she has long bouts of depression, and detachment, which she’s been trying to manage for years now, but still, in the quiet moments, there’s a feeling the girl is rather– haunted. 

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

she has pretty good investigative skills! she works on the newspaper at the school, so she’s kind of all over the place

explores a lot, likes to wander because it clears her head, though it also means she’ll probably enter places she’s not usually allowed (i.e. abandoned buildings, etc.) 

also a soccer player! she’s played soccer for a good amount of her life, except her senior year of high school when she withdrew, she’s debating quitting the team here though 

has a slight dutch accent, it’s noticeable mostly on specific words 

disaster bi….. disaster bisexual…. usually stumbles into relationships and they never last due to her own shortcomings 

can’t drive fr shit never learned how, fr some… obvious reasons, has some anxiety getting 

has a few tattoos! her first and favorite was two butterflies on her wrist for sophie 

has two piercings in each ear, a daith piercing in her right, and a upper cartilege piercing on her left

doesn’t really talk about her sister, however, claims she sees her/feels her sometimes 

a skeptical believer of ghosts and spirits, mostly likes the stories that comes with her 

speaks to her father once every two years, their relationship is nonexistent 

likes to have a beer every so often but doesn’t exactly party, if u do see her at parties she’s prob lounging on a couch chatting with someone who’s name she’ll never remember 

lived on campus for the first two years but this year got her own apartment, has an esa, a two year old scottish fold named noodle 

has an extensive collection of sweaters and cardigans

kind of an old lady……. just learning about tiktok now

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

partner in crime – the ryan to her shane, the trixie to her katya, maybe they’re not the best of friends but they get into a LOT of trouble together

the reason nana and her stopped talking – pretty much nana walked in on a situation and misread it entirely and her drama loving ass cut pip off until her disappearance

friends 

former friends – pip pulls away a lot, she is the undoer in a lot of relationships… or maybe it was your muse…. 

roommates (2-3) – new girl-esque shenanigans to be had!

newspaper coworkers 

soccer teammates 

someone she’s been helping with a case

fwb (f/m/nb) – girl has got needs, and doesn’t always like to be alone so

exes (f/m/nb) – prob broke up because pip’s inability to ever truly connect to other’s… haha! or it could be on good terms, and they’re pals now

crush (f/m/nb) – either way, reciprocated or unreciprocated, but it’s weird and you’re both kinda hot?

people she has Hooked Up w/ and now it’s awkard (f/m/nb) 

rivals, but are we? 

only likes her because her cat – noodle rights, babey!

‘she accidentally stole your coffee order once, but hey, she’s pretty cool’ – prob bought u a new one after she drank a bit of it…. now you see each other around fondly

‘she stuck her nose in your business for the Scoop’

hate-to-love friendship – i want to k*ll you to hey you’re pretty alright but don’t tell anybody i said that

‘you sent her an anonymous tip, but she accidentally figured out it was you’ 

someone who gets her out of her shell – takes her to parties! out with friends! 

anything in my wanted tag!

[sepublic]

King- Hey Ya!

           You know what? I think Hey Ya! by Outkast kind of fits King as a song. Not completely because it alludes to being stuck in a romantic relationship that one is unhappy with, but doesn’t want to leave either for fear of loneliness… But specifically that line, about how nobody is interested in what the narrator has to say; “Y’all don’t wanna hear me, you just wanna dance.” A fact that is conceded right after an intimate confession of doubts and fear to total strangers, in a desperate bid for reassurance as well as an outlet for suppressed thoughts and feelings- Only to be rebuked, because the narrator is so used to being dismissed that they automatically dismiss themselves in advance, and/or HAVE just been dismissed. So caught up in the relief of letting this out, that they have to remind and ground themselves to reality, and cast aside that foolish hope before it can build up to a degree that is devastating when toppled.

          Just as people pay more attention to the happy beat of Hey Ya, and miss the depth and concerning lyrics… A lot of people in-universe ignore King’s genuine insecurities and the things he has to say, in favor of reducing him to that cute, adorable little pet they see him as; At times even ignoring King’s personhood by treating him as a pet to ‘adopt’, and not an actual person they’re kidnapping/buying. It’s reached a point where he’s just… Sometimes used to it, resigned to this reality. Though most of the time King defiantly fights back against this treatmeant, either seeing himself as an underdog or is too stubborn to acknowledge this.

          He’ll always work to change his circumstances no matter the odds nor how long it takes, sometimes blindly throwing himself at the problem when all else fails like the bone-headed doggo he is; But still. It’s a not-so-hidden sadness that King is making super-obvious, it’s just overshadowed by the entertaining aesthetic, and/or people deliberately ignore this sadness. And, obviously there’s nothing wrong with reveling in how adorable King is, because King also wants to be allowed to relax as a child and does adore attention… You just have to make sure to remember that he’s a person underneath it all, which Luz and Eda do. King wants adulation, but on his own terms, and preferably for his own accomplishments- But he also trusts his friends to not forget who he is.

          But, back to what I was saying- People aren’t interested in what Hey Ya’s narrator has to say, about his concerns… Just as people ignore King’s issues of loneliness and feeling like he’s not being listened to nor taken seriously, because Hey Look at the Adorable Cutie Pie! The Hilarity of his Anger is more important than his concerns over his best friend abandoning him! It’s a suffocating dismissal of someone’s needs and telling them to just shut up and be entertaining, almost like a figure-piece or a nice piece of furniture, a pet, or a music-player. It’s a rude denial of King’s attempts to prove others’ assumption of his simplicity wrong- An almost spiteful dismissal that’s telling King to stop talking, to not inconvenience people by thinking, don’t force them to actually critically reflect and think when interacting with you. Like people are entitled to King being what they want him to be.

          What does King know about himself that they don’t, does he actually think he knows better, that he’s on their level!? Don’t you dare imply people are doing you a disservice, these people are here to enjoy themselves and not think! Nobody’s interested in who you really are, getting to know you intimately, nor do they care that you are/could be a lot more than what you are- If anything, they’d prefer you to be less than that. It’s lowkey depressing, limiting, and objectifying. It can gaslight a person into caring only for their appeal to others as their sole source of worth, whilst never bothering to invest in themselves because it’ll never pay off, because it’ll apparently distract from what ‘really’ matters. This is your role in life so you’d better stick to it, it’s the only thing that’s gonna matter and make people pay attention to you- But remember that this attention will always be superficial in the end!

          It’s why it means so much to King in Sense and Insensitivity, when people prize and appreciate him for his actual ideas and what’s going on in his head… Only for him to depressingly realize they weren’t entirely his ideas in the first place, but partially Luz’s, too- Something Piniet bluntly and dismissively reveals to him, indirectly. Maybe King wasn’t really ALL that after all, maybe he really is only good for his cuteness… But thankfully this has begun to change because King has recently met Luz and Gus, who will listen to his concerns and reassure him over them, treat King’s thoughts seriously; And even if people in general won’t change, King can at least find solace in his select friend group of fellow weirdoes, for that respect and acknowledgement of agency and autonomy that he so desires.

          Sometimes, all you can ask for is a friend or two, and sometimes that’s just all you need. And when it comes to said friends- Well, King learned not to treat Luz the way others treated him; As a pet/object to smotheringly own, instead of a person with their own life and aspirations that go beyond you. Sure, Luz was happier than him, and King had suffered; But that was no justification to put Luz through the same experience that King had undergone. As her friend, King maturely wouldn’t want to subject Luz to the same things he’d experienced, just as Eda didn’t. He wants the best for Luz, and he won’t jeopardize nor sabotage that, just so he can ‘keep up’ with her; And as far as King is concerned, Luz isn’t going to leave him behind in the first place!

           (Hey Ya as a Stand also works for King, because they’re both small shoulder-companions who don’t do much but provide emotional support, and are dismissed as useless because of this; But their support still means a lot in the end, and ends up guiding someone to victory and success!)

[galaxitic]

Why it’s better to kill Shin Tsukimi in the Second Main Game

Anyone who’s been on my blog for awhile knows that I am in love with Shin Tsukimi. Everything about him just screams good character writing and development. He’s extremely well done, and he holds a large place in my heart. And yet, when the time came to choose someone in the Second Main Game, I voted for him. It devastated me. I cried for nearly an hour. But I voted for him, and I am still extremely content with that decision.

Why is that?

...there are a lot of reasons, but the first and foremost was just...it was his turn to die. It was. His arc had built up and built up and built up, and it was just ready to be over at the time of the Second Main Game. There didn’t need to be anything else added to it. It had fulfilled its purpose as both a plot device and character development.

Second reason. He knew it would happen. There was not a moment that passed in the facility where Shin was not painfully aware that he was going to end up dead. It’s much better to kill him now when he specifically requests it than to prolong his painful existence in anticipation.

Third reason. Embarrassment/lack of strategy. Can you imagine how the extent of how Shin would be out of options when he doesn’t die? All of his secrets are exposed. He’s been forced to play every card he’s been keeping close to his chest for a reason.Everything has come crashing down on him. He has nothing left. No more lies to sustain him. No way to give himself any sort of upper-hand. Even when he revealed his secrets, it turned out to have very little effect on what he wanted it to. It’s hopeless for Shin at this point in the game. If you vote for Shin, he dies with hope, and there’s a significant amount to be said for “dying with hope is better than living with despondency”.

Fourth reason. From what we can tell, Shin has had a really shitty life. Between unstable jobs, Midori, and likely more tragedy in his past (because this game is just so kind to its characters), it doesn’t really seem like Shin’s ever had a whole lot to make his life worthwhile. For what is likely the first time in his life, Shin has found something to make his life better; someone he loves like a sister: Kanna. It’s just...wrong to kill someone he’s willing to tear down everything for, especially when she’s likely the first person to be close to him. He’s lived through enough. If he’d rather die than see Kanna dead, so be it. Give the tragic excuse for a man some solace in what should arguably be his last moments.

Fifth reason. Satisfaction. The route where Shin dies leaves chapter 2 ending on a hopeful note, and feels so much more whole than in the route where Kanna dies. I’m stating the obvious here, but I think it’s worth bringing up. Isn’t it better to have as much satisfaction as you can in a game like this? It’s the reason the fandom has so many things like shitposts and memes and whatnot. That’s how we cope. This game is so dark and brutal that any extra satisfaction we can slip in is very rewarding. Why say that you want as much light content from this game as possible and then take the specifically more corrupt route?

Sixth reason. Reactions. When you kill Kanna, Shin completely flips out. First with his claim to kill everyone, then with the malicious Joe AI, and then with claiming he “has no allies” in chapter three, after clearly believing the opposite in the Second Main Game. To put it quite frankly, his mental state tanks when you kill Kanna. But in the route where you kill Shin, Kanna’s reaction is much gentler (as to be expected, I suppose). While she seems distraught in a way, she is able to move on and keep going. It’s so much better for the morale of the group and just in general when there’s minimized toxicity, and clearly that’s much more evident in the Shin-dies route.

An acknowledgment of the counterargument(s):

Look. I get it that you miss Shin. His character is beautifully done, even with all of his flaws, and it’s heartbreakingly sad to see him go. I know. Reminder that I’m a Shin kinnie, too. But in all honesty, it’s just for the better of everyone (including Shin himself).

There is also something to be said for thinking the game can benefit from having more of his character. Shin is an extremely well-constructed character, and I do agree that there’s a little something missing in chapter 3 when he’s gone. I just don’t think that’s enough of a reason to keep him alive.

Continuing with a personal note, I feel incredibly dirty taking the route where Shin lives. It doesn’t feel right to me at all. I feel like I almost owe it to him in a way for him to be dead. It feels like the least I can do for him, and that’s how I personally express my love for him in-game.

Of course, I understand if your way of expressing your fondness of him is through keeping him alive. I’m not going to try and argue with logic against an emotion that is felt. I can completely see how it would feel more comforting to have him alive. I just...disagree.

You could also argue it’s more “logical” to keep him alive and kill Kanna to up your chances of survival and to have Shin’s hacking skills on your side. Which is a really valid point, and is rather difficult to argue against. But...how can you guarantee he’ll even help you? From the way Shin’s behaved in chapter 3, it doesn’t seem like he’d be too interested in helping anyone else. If he won’t use his hacking skills to help all of you, what’s the point in keeping him alive for them? And even if he will help you, is it really worth it with all of the opposite arguments in mind? I leave that up to you to decide, but from me it’s a hard no.

If you’ve made it up to here, congratulations! Thank you for reading through my opinion and reasoning! I hope I’ve at least provided an interesting read, even if your opinion isn’t swayed/was never different than mine. This is totally okay to rb with your own opinion if you want to.

[lilwenney]

looking for affection in all the wrong places (iv)

pairing: will x female!reader warning(s): *to the beat of lil jon’s ‘shots’* angst angst angst angst, alcohol, mentions of smut, people are shit at communicating, adrian  word count: 4k a/n: part i, part ii, part iii / playlist can be found here / woah boy. sad times are upon us. i realized while writing this that i need a friend like cleo. 

One night stands were awkward only if you allowed them to be. They were sloppy, rushes of lust filled with twinges of passion in the moment while the following morning were mostly always filled with regret. (Y/N) could count on two hands the times she had shuffled around a dark, foreign bedroom after a one night stand to find her clothes and leave as soon as possible, because well, she was now sober and sticking around until the sun came up in a stranger's room didn’t seem like an ideal way to spend her Saturday morning. 

But the morning after James’ last party with Will next to her in bed was anything but awkward, for reasons completely unknown. She never thought that laying in bed naked with one of her close friends would somehow be... comfortable? Relaxing? She didn’t know what it was. She thought she was still drunk and her shame hadn’t kicked in yet. 

Her and Will laid in bed at 11 a.m. Saturday morning, laughing as they looked at the photos that everyone had sent to the groupchat either the previous night or that morning. There was a photo of George hanging half-way off the back of the sofa, Ciarán had a birthday hat on, Simon had found (and fixed) the inflatable penis and was cuddling it on the bathroom floor, and there were numerous other photos of them dancing, group shots, or general nonsense like cup-stacking and beer pong.

There was never a time that she felt uncomfortable around Will, even right when they first met. They had met and became instant friends all in the same night. Throughout the years he had seen her naked, held her hair back while she threw up in a bush, they had made out now numerous times before, and now they were a notch in each other’s bedposts, but they laughed that morning like friends. 

Now she felt like she was teetering on the borderline of comfort and attraction. Was she just comfortable being around him, even while naked? Or was there an unspoken feeling deep down that she never acted on? Before, the thought of any of this happening wasn’t even a possibility, and now, they were here. And it happened. 

“I need to shower.” She yawned, locking her phone back and placing it on the nightstand. 

Will looked at the time on his phone and nodded, then yawning after her, “me too. You mind if I shower here?” 

“Ah, don’t care. You have clean clothes here from the last time you were over.” 

“When was that?”

“When Gee beat you at Monopoly and you left to stay here for the night.” There was a running theme here - Will was just really bad at board games and he was also a sore loser. 

“She cheated, y’know!” 

She shook her head with a smile, “whatever you say, love.” 

Will kicked his legs out from under the duvet and over the edge of bed, and when he stood up, she saw his butt in full view for the first time. “Oh my god you have a boy butt!” She shouted as he grabbed his briefs from the floor and slid them on. 

He turned around and looked at her with an amused expression, but a scrunched brow. “What are you waffling about?” 

Her bedroom was dark when they stumbled inside, neither of them willing to break away for just a second to flip on a light. Now she caught a glimpse of his behind for the first time and let out a small squeak in laughter. 

“Boy butts are weird Will. You have a long torso and such a little butt.” 

“Little butt?” He asked, shocked. “I have a perfectly plump bottom thank you.” 

She laughed, throwing the covers over her head, “just go take a shower.” 

Will shuffled around, grabbing his clothes so he could leave the room (without scarring Cleo), and he laughed before playfully throwing his jacket on top of (Y/N) as she remained under the covers. She giggled and uncovered her face as he walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. 

A few minutes after Will left, she got out of bed and got into the showering in her adjoining bathroom. Steam filled the tiled room as hot water poured down her back and washed away sweat and body glitter, the scent of berries filling the bathroom and her nose, allowing her to finally relax her tensed muscles and her shoulders. 

Stepping out of the shower door and wrapping herself in a towel, she opened the door to see the bedroom door ajar, so she knew that Will had come back in. She gave it a second, brushing her teeth before calling out; “Hey,” to see if he was actually in the room with her. When he made a noise back, she asked, “do doughnuts sound good to you right now?” 

“Immensely,” 

“Alright, then we’re getting doughnuts.” 

Within just a few minutes of drying her hair, (Y/N) was in a pair of joggers and a jumper, and her and Will were heading down in the lift to her car. Looking at themselves in the mirror of the lift and taking photos, she had a good laugh at Will’s outfit - black joggers and a baby blue jumper, but a pair of her neon yellow socks were shining underneath the cuff of his joggers. He didn’t leave any socks the last time he was over, so he settled for hers instead. When the lift doors opened to the car park and they stepped out, he told her to piss off and they both slipped into her car. 

For the middle of December that year, London’s weather wasn’t all too bad, except for the cold nights and rain that came around far too often. That afternoon she drove them through the rain, her wipers raking against the windshield almost on the beat to the music Will was playing. What would be a ten minute drive to Shoreditch any other time took them an unsurprising thirty minutes instead due to normal weekend London traffic. 

Sure the nearest place to get doughnuts was literally next door to her flat, but where she was taking Will was a hidden gem of a doughnut shop, and while (Y/N) loved it, taking thirty minutes to get there did test her patience. And Will’s. He had a low tolerance for traffic on a normal day, so this one was particularly worse, and she ignored his complaints by turning the music volume up and smiling at him in response and he rolled his eyes. 

Right in the middle of Shoreditch was a corner shop painted bright green, standing out among the other buildings in the bleak Winter. She pulled her car along the side of the street and her and Will piled out, stepping onto the pavement and walking across the street to the window. 

“Get whatever you want,” she said, crossing her arms to fight off the cool wind, “I’ll buy since you complained about it the entire time.” 

Will stared at the building, glanced at the menu, and then looked at her. “Didn’t mean to complain, I just don’t trust your taste in gourmet doughnuts.” 

She shot him a look and he tried to hold back a smile before she playfully slapped his arm. “Just go order something,” 

When Will stepped up to the register, eyes scanning over the array of doughnuts behind the glass and began picking and choosing, (Y/N) felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She switched her keys into her other hand and quickly fished out her phone, turning it over to look at the screen, expecting it to be Cleo, to be the groupchat. 

Adrian Russell Are you free today? 

When she first read over the text, she thought that she had misread the name, so she read it back in her head, spelling it out letter by letter until she realized she had not been mistaken. All it took for him to text her was a week and three days since the last time they spoke, nine hours since they were in the same room together. 

Her heart dropped at the realization of what was going on, a sudden heavy weight pushing on her shoulders. He was trying to come back to her. For the most part, she had completely gotten over him since unblocking his number a mere three weeks ago. There were no late nights crying herself to sleep or days spent sulking on the sofa with a mouth full of popcorn because he had yet to text her, instead she found solace in being single and going out with friends and surrounding herself with good people. 

And that was the slow understanding that she was no longer making out with Will at parties to make Adrian jealous. She was making out with Will because she wanted to. 

However, there was a twinge of mixed emotions that clouded in her head. She had spent the last year with Adrian, gave him everything she had to offer and more, and a piece of her longed for the familiarity of being with him, but the other half remembered most of the bad in the relationship. She was more in shock, her brain frazzled, trying to figure out what exactly broke the camel’s back for him. 

“Hey,” her head snapped up, watching Will take a step back from the window. 

“Oh,” she breathed out before looking at the cashier, “sorry.” 

(Y/N) quickly pocketed her phone and stepped forward, rambling out her usual order plus an additional few. Cleo would be pissed if she didn’t bring back one for her specifically, so she made sure to add in a few extra. 

Will took notice of her bouncing on her toes, one of her nervous habits. “You okay?” He asked when she finished her order and she nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Picking up the folded boxes of sweets, Will watched on while she tapped her card and paid for their food. He decided it wasn’t worth it, running the good mood they were having that morning, so he let go of her nervous mannerisms and they walked back to her car. 

Unlocking the doors from a distance, trying to combat the rain, they jogged quickly across the street and slid back inside to their seats. Will held the doughnut boxes in his lap, adjusting his seat-belt while (Y/N) turned on the engine and turned on the heat. 

“So how about a coffee?” He finally asked when she slid on her own seat-belt. 

She hummed, sitting back in her seat. “There is a Costa nearby, yeah?” 

“Yeah, yeah, think so,” he nodded, “oh, and I got it this time, don’t worry.” When she didn’t say anything for a second, he turned his head to look at her, and she was smiling. “What’s that grin for?” 

“Do you even know my Costa order?” 

Will licked his lips and read off the order from memory, “regular iced latte with almond milk.” He said it with such certainty. It had been well over a year, but he still remembered her order from the time they had Costa delivered to his flat. She was persistent with the almond milk after all. 

Her smile grew even wider. She cared about the little things, that’s what made her happy. And Will remembering her coffee order was definitely one of those little things. “Damned you, what’s your order? I feel like a right shit friend.” 

“That’s for you to figure out and memorize yourself. Not playin’ easy here.” 

“Oh piss off,” she laughed again before pulling her car onto the street. 

***

It was rare for the friend group to hang out more than twice a week, and it was even more rare for the friend group to see each other more than three times in five days unless they were on holiday. But (Y/N) and Will became the exception; a Friday night party, a Saturday morning doughnut and coffee run, a Monday movie night at hers, and a Wednesday game night at his. 

He called her earlier in the day and she came around a few hours later, they had take-out and a few beers and then ultimately settled on playing video games that Will knew he would 100% beat her at. 

“This is all just muscle memory, love,” 

“Oh fuck off with that,” she cursed loudly, stretching her foot to the side to nudge his controller in attempt to throw him off. But Will was too quick, dodging her at the last second and crossing the finish line just inches ahead of her. A groan of agony followed a cheerful shout, then belly laughter at their drastically different reactions. 

She looked at Will as he tossed his controller down, hands thrown in the air in rejoice. In a bout of 2-out-of-3, Will had come out victorious with a last second pull away, securing his second win of the three races, and he celebrated by teasing, poking her cheek as he called out, “I told you I was gonna win!” 

While he was quite literally the only person on this planet who could annoy her, she was now realizing just how much she took these moments for granted. No weekends spent together or holidays with friends abroad was like this - it was just them in the most natural environment possible. 

Luckily for her, Will was starting to feel the same way. He found himself waking up in the mornings with his mind immediately on her, wondering what she was doing, wondering if there was a way he could see her. The days he was used to spending alone in his room editing until the early hours were no longer. His fingers always found her number in his phone. 

He didn’t understand it, really. How a friend for years was always just a friend until one night. 

Moving her legs from his lap, she allowed him to stand and stretch his long limbs. They had been playing games for a while - at first it was FIFA, that he absolutely destroyed her at until it was no longer fun, and then they switched to Mario Kart, which he was also having a blast beating her at. Video games were the only way he could beat her at a game, and she did well at reminding him of all the times he went bankrupt in Monopoly. 

“Want a beer?” He asked rounding the edge of the sofa, heading towards the kitchen.

She nodded while still focused on the screen, changing the color of Yoshi for the next race, “yes please.” 

After changing the color of Yoshi back to green, she was picky, she placed the controller down on her lap and waited for Will to walk back in. Her attention was elsewhere when she felt a phone vibrate on the sofa, and she immediately started to look for her own phone, but saw that it was Will’s phone instead - the screen lit up on the cushion next to her leg. 

It was a harmless glance, one she didn’t even really mean until she realized it far too late that it wasn’t her phone, but her stomach had already dropped. 

Hanna Day Missing you x

And just like that, they were coming back around. 

In all fairness, it took Hanna a few more days after the last party in comparison to Adrian’s handful of hours after. And (Y/N) rolled her eyes, trying to push out the idea of the girl that floated in her head. 

It was to no one’s surprise that Hanna and (Y/N) hadn’t got along well while Hanna and Will were dating. Hanna was the type to be your best friend one second, and then be behind your back the next, and everyone close to Will knew that, specifically the girl friends he had for years. Hanna was never fond of her boyfriend’s best friend, because there were always questions that revolved around their status as “just friends.” Just like how Adrian questioned it, too. 

But (Y/N) and Will’s friendship wasn’t even particularly new, they had been friends for years after meeting at Fabric, a London nightclub, just months after they both moved to the city. They met through Gee, Will’s flatmate, and by the end of the night (Y/N) was helping Will find his keys on the sticky nightclub dance floor and then wound up asleep on his sofa. And they were close ever since. 

It was the summer following their meeting that they crossed the line of “friends” while in Barcelona, but it was a line they never crossed again once returning to London. And it wasn’t much longer after than that, she and Adrian met through James and began dating, and then a handful of months later, Hanna and Will started dating too. So there was never any true reason for Hanna to dislike her - she just didn’t like the fact that Will had other female friends with a history of being close. For her own insecure reasons, (Y/N) assumed. 

“Was that mine?” Will asked, coming back from the kitchen, handing (Y/N) one of the uncapped beers he brought from the refrigerator. 

She nodded, immediately taking a sip before replying, “yeah, think so.” 

Out the corner of her eye, she watched Will sit back onto the sofa and reach for his phone, but his expression didn’t change after seeing the name across his screen. Deciding she didn’t want to know if he was replying or not, she focused back on the telly screen, flipping through the colors of her character again to occupy herself. 

“It’s Hanna,” was all he said before locking his phone back, placing it on the coffee table, now upside down. 

She played it off like she hadn’t seen it, raising a brow, “yeah?” 

Will hummed as he sat back against the cushion, immediately choosing his character and allowing the screen to move on. He didn’t say anything else, leaving it at that, but she felt obligated to say something. 

“Adrian texted me too,”

Will glanced at her hastily, “when?” 

She let out a deep breath, not meeting his eyes but watching the screen count down to one again before their race started, finding herself in an awkward limbo of telling him the truth or lying for the sake of whatever was going on between them. She knew that she should have told him before now, that she should have on Saturday, but she felt like it would have ruined everything. If she had told him right then, she doubted if he would have even come over Monday, if she would be on his sofa right now.

After all, they got what they wanted, right? They won. But it was feeling much more complicated than that. 

“Saturday,” she blurted out.

Will didn’t say anything for a moment, playing it off as focusing on the race instead of the thoughts racking his brain. He remembered Saturday afternoon in Shoreditch - sitting in her car eating doughnuts and drinking coffee on the side of the street while rain pattered down onto the roof, them laughing and listening to music while talking about anything that came to mind. And he remembered thinking at the time that her mind seemed elsewhere, but he decided not to push it for the sake of ruining their time together. 

It then clicked in his head that that was when Adrian texted her, when she looked like she saw a ghost at the doughnut shop.

“Yeah?” He asked casually. “Did you text him back?” 

She shook her head, “no,” 

There was a second of pause between them.

“Are you going to text her back?” 

But there wasn’t any hesitation for Will’s answer, “no,”

Later that night, after a few more games of Mario Kart, (Y/N) slumped back into her flat in Poplar. The door clicked shut and she tossed her keys down onto the foyer table, her ears picking up the sound of music coming from down the hallway. She followed the sounds to Cleo’s bedroom. Cleo didn’t even look up from her laptop, where she was writing an already extremely late paper for her history of cinematic fashion course, to see her flatmate fall face first into the duvet next to her. 

A few minutes passed and Cleo finished up her paragraph before asking, “and how are you?” 

“Don’t know, honestly,” she replied, voice muffled by the material of the duvet. 

“And that is because?” 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling on the inside.” 

Cleo leaned forward and sat her laptop on the bed, her attention now away from the linen skirts of a 17th century period piece and onto her flatmate, who at this time, hasn’t caught a break in two weeks. 

“You were at Will’s flat, yeah?” Cleo received just a nod in response before (Y/N) rolled over, head resting on her friend’s thigh. “So what happened?” 

“Everything was going really well, and then Hanna texted him.” 

“Hanna? Hanna Day?” 

She huffed. “Yeah, she was telling him that she missed him. I accidentally read it and now I wish I hadn’t read it because I feel sad.” 

Cleo reached down, running fingers across her cheek and then moving to play with her hair. “And why do you feel sad?” 

(Y/N) stared at the ceiling, opening herself up and releasing the feelings she had kept inside for the last few hours. It was hard for her to keep things in, but this was something she couldn’t particularly explain easily. Especially to Will. 

“I don’t know, really,” her voice was like a whisper, “I think - I think it’s because I’m scared he’ll go back to her. What we are doing is just something dumb to make them jealous, at first it was anyways..” 

Cleo frowned, feeling where the conversation was going. She hated seeing her best friend fall into a mess of feelings, but sometimes, it just happened, whether you wanted it or not.

“And now I don’t want it to stop. But I don’t want to do it just to make them jealous.” 

“Because you like him,” Cleo said softly. 

Her eyes drifted closed and she focused on the feeling of Cleo’s fingers then smoothing at her hair, and then running through the strands again, and she nodded. “Yeah,” she admitted, “because I like him.” 

Cleo was always the logical one of the two when it came to feelings. She liked to listen and then talk things through, so a lot of their friends relied on her for her wisdom in times of need. This was one of those moments.

“You wanted a sweet moment of revenge, but what you wound up with was an ex-boyfriend who texts you while you gained feelings for quite literally the only person you’re not supposed to have feelings for.” 

“I didn’t bloody mean to gain feelings for him.” She said harshly. “But it’s just nice - I don’t know, it’s nice that what I feel around Will is new, and it’s refreshing.”

“You were looking for that feeling in the wrong place, because you got yourself into quite a mess.” There was the brutal honesty, but it was what needed to be said. “But don’t beat yourself up over it, your feelings are just messed up and it’s understandable.” 

“What should I do?” 

Cleo let out a small breath, twirling the stands between her fingers. “First, I think you need to talk to him.” 

“I can’t talk to him about this. It’s embarrassin’.” 

The blonde sighed again, shaking her head at her friend’s stubbornness. “And then you need to figure out what you want.”

“It just sucks,” she said again and Cleo nodded, leaning down and placing her head on her arm, kissing the skin of her shoulder. 

“I know it does, I know it does,” she whispered, and their conversation died down, the music continuing on for them. 

[solange-lol]

abc, 123, baby you and me

SolangeloWeek Day 5 - Age Regression/Kidfic

Words: 2517

Special thanks to Val aka @jayjay-graceless and Annie aka @bookplush for those absolutely genius names within their robot child 

Read on Ao3

There wasn’t ever anything for Nico di Angelo to look forward to in sex ed, especially in a public high school. He supposed they should be lucky to get any sort of education at all, but the 40 minute period every day was just another reference to their heteronormative society. If they had to learn about every single type of birth control, it would be nice to at least cover some sort of protection for same-sex couples. It’s not even like his sexuality or his relationship with Will was a secret. 

 Even the ‘study games’ were cruel. One game involved them putting post-its on their back with words either relating to male or female genitalia, and they had to guess what it was using ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions. If it weren’t for Frank (bless him) choosing to savor his embarrassment and reminding him about it, Nico would have been walking around with ‘penis’ on his back for the rest of the day. (He still doesn’t think the rest of their friends forgive him for catching him before he walked out of the room). 

However, there was always one unit that everyone always looked forward to near the end of the year: their parenthood unit. After years of trying (and failing) to reign the disaster of using eggs or sacks of flour as their ‘children’, the school implanted actual robotic babies into the system specifically for this unit. Their final grade of the semester was determined along a week of taking care of the robotic baby, which would track whether or not they mishandled the baby in a way that would upset an actual living, breathing child. The catch is it would be done in partnerships.

The moment their teacher announced it, Nico looked right at Will, who wiggled his eyebrows. Nico gave Will a quick nod in response. He noticed for a second that Piper and Annabeth were eyeing him warily before looking at each other in a mutual agreement about something, but he chose to ignore it. Of course he was going to choose Will for this project. 

When their teacher finally called for their groups to get together, Will immediately moved to sit next to Nico. The two glanced around, seeing who else paired up. Some of them were obvious from known friendships, while others seemed to be a have-nobody-else-to-partner-with type situation. One of the most unfortunate situations was Frank Zhang, his sister’s boyfriend; Hazel was in the class under them, which left Frank to be paired with one of the Stoll brothers. Nico was lucky to be in a class with his boyfriend and a lot of his friends, otherwise, he probably would have ended up like that.

 Annabeth and Piper had paired together, which was a surprise to Nico as both of their boyfriends were in the class. However, judging by the harmless death glares and teasing, Jason and Percy seemed to have turned this entire assignment into a competition against the girls. Nico just rolled his eyes at them; the overly dramatic bromance between both groups was too much for him at times.

Next to him, Will was already chattering excitedly. 

“I’ve been coming up with names while she was talking,” he said, pulling a folder from his backpack. “I’m thinking something extravagant. Maybe Percival or Wulfric for a boy, and Celestia or Antoinette for a girl.” He glanced down the list again. “Oh! Wellington is also a good one! Or Febreeze-”

“We aren’t naming it,” Nico said, shutting the folder with a laugh. It was funny how everyone expected Nico to be more flamboyant as the fully gay one, but sometimes he felt like his bisexual boyfriend came right from playing Kurt Hummel in Glee.

Will pouted for a second before he continued. “My mom told me at the beginning of the year when we got the permission slip for this assignment that you would be able to stay whichever night to make it easier on us. Or I can stay at your house, whatever you want.” Nico just nodded along, a small smile forming on his face. Who knew a stupid sex ed assignment would be an excuse to spend all week with his boyfriend. 

Will left to get their robot baby from the teacher, and Annabeth immediately slid into his place.

“I don’t think you should do this project with Will,” she said. Nico’s head immediately snapped up from the sheet of instructions, eyes narrowing.

“Give me one good reason.”

“Oh, I’ll give you multiple reasons. Do you know how much strain a baby will put on a marriage, much less a regular relationship? Especially when you're in high school. And have you ever spent more than a weekend with Will? It says you’re supposed to try and take care of the baby together as much as possible. You don’t know how long you can stand him for. Your patience is already going to be strained enough.”

Nico’s eyes shifted, avoiding her stormy gray ones staring him down. “None of those are good reasons,” he mumbled.

Annabeth sighed, finally letting her arms drop to the desk rather than in their crossed position. “Look, there’s a reason I’m not even doing it with Percy, and we’ve been dating for nearly two years-”

“Isn’t this supposed to be, like, the true test though?” He cut her off. “See if we could actually handle being around each other every day, or if we would be good with children?” He wouldn’t ever admit it, not even to himself yet, but Nico could honestly see himself spending the rest of his life with Will. (It was too terrifying to think about so usually he chose not to.)

“What you and Will have is good, Nico, I’m not denying that,” she pushed. “I just don’t want it to be ruined. Not when you’ve gotten this far.”

Nico sighed. He hated that she had a point. If he had an existential crisis surrounding his relationship with Will in the next week, he was blaming it entirely on her.

“I think you’d have to kill him to not do this project with me,” he said, rolling his eyes in an attempt to shake off his hesitance. 

Before she could respond, Will came bounding back, and all the doubt Annabeth had planted in his mind was momentarily forgotten. Because even though it was obviously made out of plastic (and oh goodness, those eyes were terrifyingly empty) his heart melted a little bit at the sight of his boyfriend with a baby in his arms. 

“Go get back to your own kid,” Nico said, shoving her out of the chair. She gave him the stink eye before returning to Piper; their baby had already started emitting a robotic cry somehow. 

“Are you okay?” Will asked, and the gleeful tone in his voice before had disappeared. “Whatever she said to you seemed pretty upsetting.” 

Nico smiled, and thankfully it didn’t feel fake. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

And just like that, regular old Will was back. “Great! Because I figured out the perfect name for her.” Nico raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued anyway. “Delphina Oregano Galavine,”

“Its initials are D-O-G. You named it Dog.” Nico stated.

“di Angelo-Solace,” Will added hastily.

“Nope, too late. I’m calling it Dog."

***

As it turns out, Dog (yes, Nico was seriously calling it that) wasn’t actually that difficult to take care of in school. They were given their babies that Friday morning and were required to take care of it up until Monday. All the teachers were aware of the project, so most of them went easy on their students. 

He says most, as his history teacher thought it would be hilarious to give presentations that day. Thankfully, Will had taken Dog to his class, so Nico was allowed to present in peace, while others had to try and rely on their friends or anyone around them to watch their baby. Nothing like trying to present on American history while a couple teenagers tried to frantically silence any robotic crying. 

It was the start of that weekend when the chaos of parenthood really started. Nico blames the whole thing on Will and his poor judgment, to be honest. 

They had a plan to meet up at Will’s house on Saturday after Nico got off of work. Instead, Will showed up at Nico’s work. With the baby. 

Will tried to play it off like he was just a casual shopper, browsing the aisles with a robotic baby in tow. Whatever effect it may have had on other shoppers, though, it did not have the same one on him. Nico’s cheeks were heating up as he approached his manager in the back.

“You have to kick him out,” Nico pleaded to Reyna. 

“Why? He’s not doing anything wrong,” she seemed unfazed by the whole situation.

Nico gaped at her. “He’s holding a robotic child.” 

“Your robotic child, might I remind you. And that’s not even the strangest thing we’ve seen here.” (That part was true; retail was wacky). “Besides, isn’t it like, kinda romantic that he came to visit you with your child?” 

Nico glared at her, but she glared right back before instructing him to get back to work. He took that as an invitation to go over to Will. “What the hell are you doing here?” Nico hissed at him.

Will jumped, nearly dropping the baby in his arms. Nico was so thankful he didn’t; they were lucky it was sleeping right now. The only thing worse than this current situation was if the baby was fussy right now. (Although, that could get Will kicked out, which wouldn’t be all that bad).

“Oh, hey Nico!” he smiled. “I got bored just lying around at home, and I think she did too.” He hoisted the baby higher up in his arm so he had a better grip around her. 

“But why did you bring it out in public?” 

Will’s brow furrowed. “What, did you just expect to hide away at home for an entire weekend?” 

“Yeah, kind of!” Nico gritted his teeth.

“Is that how you would treat a real child?”

“No, but-”

“So why would you treat this one any different?”

“Because that’s not a real child, Will!” He didn’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, but Will looked more angry than sad.

“Are you embarrassed to be with me?” he asked flatly, and Nico felt his heart break a little bit. 

“No, I’m not embarrassed by you, Will. I could never be, even when you do something worth being embarrassed for. Nor would I be embarrassed to be with you with an actual child,” Will looked relieved at that, but Nico wasn’t finished. “I am embarrassed by that-” he pointed to the doll in Will’s arms. “-though. It freaks me out, and I think it’s freaking other people out.”

Will looked around like it was the first time he noticed that he was in a public setting with a robot baby in his arms. “Oh,” he said, glancing at a few confused shoppers as they passed. “I’ll just- I’m gonna go” he ducked his head as his cheeks heated up, and Nico felt bad for him.

“Hold on,” Nico grabbed his arm. “Just stay there for a second, I’m going to go ask Reyna for the rest of the afternoon off.”

***

If Nico remembered correctly, there was one benefit that came from being able to spend his weekend at Will’s house for this project. It was Sunday, though, and they had yet to take advantage of that benefit. 

Dog was sleeping in the corner on the weird makeshift-bed of pillows Will had put together on top of his dresser. Will’s actual dog, a golden retriever named Sunny (Will had named her when he was 5), had been taken by Naomi to a vet appointment. His half-sister, Kayla, was out shopping with friends, and his half-brother, Austin, was at work. Which meant Will and Nico were home alone. With no distractions.

Currently, they were sitting across from each other on Will’s bed, studying for their upcoming math test. Nico knew he probably needed to actually work on his study guide (he hardly paid any attention in math anyway, after their teacher made the mistake of letting him and Will sit next to each other, that class was entirely them goofing off in the back) but instead he leaned over and kissed Will on the cheek. Will looked up from the problem he was working on for a second and gave Nico a quick kiss, before taking Nico’s hand with his free one and going back to work.

That wasn’t working for Nico, though, so he yanked on his hand, pulling the Will toward him. Thankfully, Will complied, dropping the textbook and paper on his lap in favor of leaning down to kiss Nico. He ended up pulling Nico down on top of him, so they were laying back on his bed. 

Nico tore his lips away from Will’s and kissed along his jaw and down his neck as he pushed the flannel that Will was wearing off his shoulders. He sat up for a second, straddling Will’s hips as he tugged his shirt over his head as Will did the same with his own. He leaned back down, pressing his bare chest to Will’s as he went back to work on the skin around Will’s collarbone. 

Will’s eyes rolled back, fluttering before shutting completely as he gasped and sighed before pulling Nico back up to kiss him on the lips once again.

Nico was about to reach for Will’s jeans when a robotic cry echoed throughout the room, causing both boys to groan in annoyance

“I’m gonna turn off that stupid thing,” Nico mumbled into Will’s neck. 

“I wouldn’t argue with that.”

***

Nico and Will stood in front of a desk the next day, Dog laying quietly on top as their teacher clicked through her laptop

“Congrats, boys, you guys got an A-,” their teacher said before moving onto the next group. Will sighed in relief.

Immediately, he walked over to Piper and Annabeth’s table to gloat. “Suck it, Chase,” he grinned. “We were fantastic parents.”

“We still got a higher grade than you,” Annabeth pointed out. “But I have to say, I’m impressed. I don’t think I would have done that well with Percy. I guess you were right,” she sounded pained as she said it, and Nico gloated.

Walking back to his desk, Will was staring blankly at the baby. 

“I think I’m gonna miss her,” he said.

Nico considered it for a second. “I think I’m going to miss having an excuse to sleep over at your house.”

“Yeah, about that. Apparently, you left a very visible mark on my neck, and Lou Ellen and I do not have the same skin tone,” Will said, then asked: “So, when do you want kids?” 

Nico glared at him with no real anger behind his eyes, slapping him playfully on the arm. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, there.”

~~~

Thanks for reading! Taglist under cut (message me to be added/removed)

@internallyexplodingrainbows @aleclight-ofmylife-wood @unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt @my-face-is-a-potato 

[vantejeon]

her sadness was an old friend | jjk

pairing | jungkook x reader

genre | a sprinkle (or maybe the whole jar) of angst

word count | 2.3k

summary | he’d often come knocking on your door; unexpected, unannounced and during the ungodly hours of the night. it would be a routine for you both; he would seek solace in the comfort of your own home and you would welcome him in— arms wide open and heart pried apart.

author’s note | reposting this fic since all the text disappeared when i tried to edit it on the ipad (has anyone else encountered that problem?). once again, thank you so so much for the love and feedback that ‘oneirophrenia’ received. it’s my first fic and it’s reached nearly 100 notes which isn’t bad for a first timer imo haha! here’s another angsty(ish) fic that i dug out from my word documents. as usual, feedback is appreciated! enjoy!

The familiarity seeps in— infiltrating your system like a toxin and you’re almost physically sick at the overwhelming feeling that washes over you. It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you sense him before he even makes his presence known.

Knock. Knock.

A brief moment of uncertainty passes you and you wonder if you have the courage to shut him out tonight. Maybe if you pretended you were sleeping then he’d leave you alone. But you know better. He knows better.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There’s a sense of urgency in the rapping on your apartment door. You can hear it echoing in the hallway, the sound reverberating off the walls and you are aware of the possible repercussions should you refuse to answer the door.

Silence falls for longer than you had anticipated and the atmosphere is so quiet, you can almost hear the pulsing of the blood ringing in your ears. You close your eyes shut despite the room already cloaked in darkness. Maybe he had gone.

You let out a steady breath and wrap the duvet tighter around you. Sleep never came easy to you despite the restlessness you feel recently. You’re in and out of consciousness when you feel the bed dip and you stiffen, the hairs on your arms and legs standing as you feel his presence over you.

Keeping your eyes shut, you bite your lip and will your body to relax as an attempt to hide that fact that you’re now wide awake.

No words were spoken as he joins you underneath the duvet and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch was always warm despite his icy disposition and there is no doubt that he can feel the goosebumps that cover your entire body. You quietly inhale as he kisses your shoulder as a sign of goodnight.

Maybe you’ll find the courage to shut him out one night. But tonight is not the night.

You wake up that day and he’s still asleep, his presence looming over you still. Crawling out of bed, your bare feet padded across the carpet of your bedroom floor. His figure is hidden underneath the cover, just a billow of duvet protruding on your bed as you glance back and sigh.

Entering the kitchen, you can’t help but feel out of place in your own apartment. As if his presence alone was enough of a trigger to alienate you in your own home. But then again, it had always felt like that.

You’re always awake before him and you would always make him coffee before he himself rises from his own slumber. Black, no sugar— as dark and as bitter as his soul.

When he’d wake up, he would join you and you would converse like old friends.

“There are boxes in the spare bedroom.” His comment is somewhat accusatory as he enters the kitchen.

You’re making his cup of coffee first, having just boiled the kettle as he comes in. It’s 4 in the afternoon and you only just managed to get out of bed. Just barely though. It’s been getting more and more difficult to get out of bed recently. You prefer sleep over the company that resides in your house.

He lives in the reality of your everyday life so you prefer the comfort of your subconscious.

Opening the cupboard, you stand on your tiptoes to grab a Nespresso pod to put in the coffee machine. You mentally curse at the item being out of your reach and briefly wonder who was responsible for such a troublesome placement. Feeling his presence as he stands behind you, he reaches up to fetch the capsule from the box with ease. You freeze momentarily, remembering who it is that always insists to put the coffee pods on the highest shelf just so it’s always out of your reach.

Dependency ties your hands behind your back and asks you to undo the knot. And you will never win.

“I’m turning it back into a studio.” You reply to his earlier statement as you pop the espresso capsule in the pod compartment. There’s no room for you here anymore. You want to say but don’t. Placing the mug on the stand, you watch as the machine whirrs to life and coffee drips out of the nozzle. 

You’re distracting yourself and he senses this as he responds.

“Okay, I’ll just crash on the couch.” He says it so nonchalantly that it makes your blood boil. Couch, spare room— it all means nothing. He always ends up in your bed anyway.

—

“It’s not laundry day today.”

He’s standing by the doorway as he watches you fuss in the bedroom, looking through your closet for an outfit to put together. Various items of clothing are haphazardly thrown over the bed; some on the desk and on the chair next to it.

It doesn’t surprise either of you at the current state of your room. You haven’t had the time to clean since he hasn’t thought of a time to leave.

“I’m going out tonight.” You respond distractedly, typing away at your phone as it pings continuously.

He lets out a derisive chuckle. “Why make plans when you know you’re just going to cancel them?”

Your eyebrows knit in confusion and your stomach drops, not liking the implication in his tone of voice. “The boys invited me.” You reply, quietly this time— the statement more to yourself than anything.

He scoffs. “They do that out of politeness.”

Staring down at the phone in your hand, your fingertips hover over the screen unsure of what to answer now. You see the notification of the group chat and you bite your lip. The reply is already at the tip of your tongue and the edge of your fingers: you want to be there. You want to spend time with them. You haven’t seen them in such a long time, always cooped up in your apartment because of the unwanted guest that chooses to never leave. 

“You honestly don’t think they actually want you there?” His word pierces your skin and guts you open; he always knew the right things to say to make you feel wrong.

—

That same night, you’re sitting on one end of the couch watching a film as he lays down across you, his head on your lap. He’s getting comfortable again and you allowing yourself to do the same is what makes you fall back into the noxious routine.

“You should really consider throwing out all that junk in the spare room.”

His eyes are closed and you force yourself not to play with his hair, distracting yourself by fiddling with the remote. The film on the TV is merely background noise and you pay it no attention. Nothing retains your attention lately. Everything seems to be just noise.

“It’s not junk.” You mutter to yourself. “They’re commissioned pieces.”

From the corner of your eye, you see your phone on the coffee table along with the untouched takeaway you ordered for one. It wasn’t for you. It never is since you’re never hungry. Your appetite has been pretty much non-existent since he decided to stay.

The constant vibration against the glass and the screen lighting up signifies new messages but you ignore it. After sending a text to the group chat saying that you can’t make it to tonight’s event, you turned your phone on silent but that didn’t stop the incessant messages on their end. They’re asking questions you don’t have the answer to.

You wanted to see the boys, that was an absolute no brainer. However, you had a guest in your home and it would be rude to leave him in your apartment whilst you go out to have fun. Despite how unwanted he may be, you don’t have the capability to leave.

You wouldn’t want to be rude, do you?

Consumed with your thoughts and the possibilities of what he might say— you snap out of your reverie as you hear a knock on the door. The presence in your lap shifts, sending you a quizzical look which you mirror in return. You were not expecting anyone tonight.

Getting up from the couch, you walk over to the door tentatively, not quite certain when you started becoming uncomfortable in your own flat.

Your eyes take a while to adjust as you look through the peephole and they widen as you register the person on the other side. More specifically 1 out of 7 of said boys in the group chat you’re trying to avoid which also happens to be your next-door neighbour.

“Jungkook.” You acknowledge him somewhat breathlessly. Looking behind you, you realise that your guest was nowhere to be seen. You take this opportunity to open the door and you quickly scan your eyes at the figure in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“You cancelled on us last minute.” He says dejectedly, refraining from adding again as he replies. There is a slight look of concern on his face and you notice the way he’s holding back slightly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He’s dressed in typical Jungkook manner— all black, oversized and comfortable. His black baggy t-shirt is untucked over his sweatpants, Alexander McQueen trainers peeking out from the bottom of the cuffs. His hair is in its usual state; soft, wavy and longer now and you almost want to cry. He’s the first person you’ve seen in a while and it overwhelms you slightly. 

“I..” You trail off, feeling your throat close up. Feeling a presence behind you, there’s a sudden heaviness weighing down on your shoulders.

“He’s wasting your time.” You hear a scoff.

“Just…” You grip the door handle to stop yourself from shaking and you sigh tiredly. “Go away.”

Hurt flashes across Jungkook’s eyes and his eyebrows furrow together as he looks away. “Right, well—“

Realising the misdirection, you quickly turn to Jungkook. “N-No, Kook, wait!” You step out of your apartment and you close the door behind you but not before hearing a loud and annoyed huff behind you. “It’s not— I’m just—“

You trip over your words, stuttering as you’re not entirely sure how and what to reply. Sensing your struggle, Jungkook waits patiently. His eyes are big and brown as they stare at you quietly and you feel an incisive urge to cry.

“I’m sorry…” Your voice is strained as you desperately try to hold it together in front of him.

“Can I come in—“

“No!” You exclaim. “I mean— y-you can’t… My flat… it’s a mess right now.”

“My place is tidy.” He says quietly. “We can talk there.”

—

“Sit.” He gestures towards the sofa as he places himself on the armchair opposite you. Your eyes trail towards the door where you know he will probably be lurking and eavesdropping. Jungkook looks at you expectantly. “Would you like a drink?”

You shake your head, your hands mindlessly drawing patterns on the sofa. “No, thank you.”

“Y/N…” He starts and your attention diverts back to the doe-eyed boy in front of you. “Is everything okay?”

You stare at him, the question almost short-circuiting your brain and you don’t quite know how to answer him— let alone what. You think of the not-so-stranger in your apartment, the presence that wormed its way inside your ribcage and demanded itself a home in the vessels of your bleeding heart.

You want to tell him about the intruder that’s currently in your home and how suffocated you feel but you settle with a nod of your head.

“I’m fine.” You lie through to your teeth and desperately force it out of your mouth but it still burns your insides like acid. Jungkook stares at you with his big brown eyes and, once again, you feel like you want to cry.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks. “You seem a bit… distant.”

“Oh? Really.” You force a peal of weak laughter. 

“This is the first time I’ve seen you properly in months.” He states this softly, an aura of calmness in his presence that eases your jaggedness.

“Sorry, I’ve just been so busy lately.” You answer and he looks at you to elaborate more. “With commissions.”

There is a long pause and you’re not quite sure how to carry the conversation on. Jungkook is trying to meet your gaze but you can’t bear to look at him, already feeling overwhelmed.

“Y/N.” He says your name in a way that breaks you on the inside, along with it is the entire facade of you pretending to be okay and you’re crying before you even know it.

Jungkook is sat next to you immediately, his arms wrapping around you in an instant. His hold on you is different, protective but not suffocating and you relent in the comfort of his touch. You instantly realise that despite the heavy arms circled around you, you instantly feel lighter.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He tucks your head under his chin and lets you cry. “You can let it out, Y/N.”

A few hours later, you’re still in his apartment and it’s the most at peace you’ve felt in a while. Actions spoke louder as he cradles you with the soothest of touches. Words were not needed as he held you in his arms but still, he provided you with whispers of comfort.

You don’t talk about it tonight and he understands this, choosing to just simply be there and before you know it, it’s past midnight and you’re nearly falling asleep in his arms.

“Thank you so much Jungkook.” Your voice is slightly hoarse as you sniffle tiredly into his embrace. “For checking up on me.”

“You know I’m always here Y/N. We all are.” 

He’s cradling you back and forth and stroking your hair as you feel yourself slowly being lulled to sleep. The exhaustion you’ve been feeling over the past couple of months washes over you like a wave but you don’t drown in it as Jungkook buoys you afloat.

“Thank you.” You whisper, afraid that you’ll bring the stranger from your home to his. “So much.”

Your eyelids feel heavy, holding on to Jungkook tighter as you feel sleep come so easily to you this time. Manoeuvring as carefully as he can to hold you bridal style as he stands up from the couch, you’re already asleep in his arms as he makes his way to his room.

He knew something was wrong when you kept on cancelling plans and refusing to see anyone. But he also knows better than to pry it out of you, choosing to patiently wait for you to tell him when you’re ready but he can’t help but feel so affected at how inconsolable you’ve become.

Placing you on the bed, he watches your eyelids flutter tiredly into consciousness as he slowly tugs on the bedspread.

“J’kook?” You mumble sleepily.

“You can rest here.” He reaches out towards you to move the hair that fell across your face behind your ear as he pulls the duvet over you. Tucking you under the cover, he leans down and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

—

i do apologise for any grammatical errors. it’s currently past midnight as i am writing to post this fic again since it got deleted. i only had it 75% saved because i edited it on the actual post itself (i know, dumb move). but anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed it. let me know what you guys think— my inbox is always open!

© vantejeon

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 97: After, You

Rise and shine, everyone! It’s September 12th, and you all know what that means right?  That means it’s the fourth year anniversary of January! Hurray!  And what better way to celebrate, than with a good ol’ Chapter rant on one of the most infamous chapters in BCB.  And after all the hype and shit I’ve heard about this chapter I can’t wait to dive right in, sink my teeth in, and properly dissect it! Hmm, that came out a lot hungrier than I thought…

We start off with a bit more of Lucy’s mom being really cute and funny.  Although I will say it’s kind of surprising to see that this takes place immediately where the last chapter left off.  I guess I’m so used to time frames between chapters being out of whack so much, I just got used to there being missing days or pieces.   Can’t tell if good thing or not.

Also, just to point it out. Dat Size Difference Tho.  Lucy’s mom is one small mama…or maybe Paulo’s exposure to Daisy gave him some of that mutant radiation and made him huge.  Either way!

We spend the first pages of this chapter doing…homework?  Kinda weird, I guess it helps to show Lucy and Paulo being nice together.  It’s just pointless ship sailing really, and we all know how that’s gonna g-

Bruh…

Wut?

O-oh we’re just going to brush past that?  We’re just going to move on, from that random as fuck cross-ship?  That’s what we’re doing? OH NO NO NO, YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE!

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! LET’S RECAP FOR A SECOND SHALL WE? WHAT DID WE JUST GET FROM THE LAST CHAPTER?

The emerging of Paulo and Daisy’s relationship.

The complete obliteration of Paulo and Rachel’s relationship.

And finally the revival of Paulo and Lucy’s relationship.  WHICH IS WHAT I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO GET INTO WITH THIS CHAPTER!  Putting myself in the writer’s seat for a moment, I thought well hey!  This is going to be a little ship ride!  And because I have ADHD I can’t really remember what the fuck actually happened in this chapter or what it was really about, but hey!  Maybe this is where Taeshi is going to focus on Paulo and Lucy, try and build up this ship and make us give a shit about it.  But noooo, that’s too focused for Taeshi!  Gotta get that shipping battle in, get that nice dramatic romance conflict!  That’s what the fans, and dedicated readers are really here for!  

THE FIRST FOUR PAGES! Before we get into what this chapter is actually about, before we know what we’re even in for, before we get to the real shit people want to read about, we gotta remind them that Paulo likes Daisy!  And I mean REALLY REALLY likes her!  Because fuck, they might’ve forgotten about that!  I mean it was only built up recently, was on the rocks for a bit, but got ironed out and set up IN THE LAST FUCKING CHAPTER!  What’s the point of this?  Why bring up that Paulo likes Daisy?  Do you think your audience whom you constantly bait with pairings, and relationships, would need to be hit over the head with a shoehorned reminder that Paulo has feelings for Daisy?!

Actually, yeah I think it’s pretty clear Taeshi has some contempt for her audience.  Given she thinks we need to be hit over the head this hard and often.  It’s honestly insulting, and I only read this shit occasionally.  I don’t know how some of you can put up with this crap.  Do the concussions just numb the pain after a while?  Whatever let’s get to the fun stuff.

Anyway, Paulo is walking with Lucy and it’s honestly not bad.  It feels weird for Paulo to be so desperate, but given that Lucy almost fucking died and was gone forever…Yeah it’s understandable.  But this though…

Uhhh…Paulo?  A-are you trying to scare Lucy?  …what?

Why are you t-rexing right now?  What’s wrong with your arms? Why are you explaining it like this? I mean I can get excited maybe?  But he seems ELATED about drama which is…dare I say…a smidge out of character?  What is this?  Also, I actually got tripped up reading this panel and I think that might be the positioning of the word bubbles because instead of using the traditional method of:

For whatever reason, in this panel specifically it’s:

Which is unnatural for most English readers, who end reading on the right.  So I didn’t even realize that Paulo said “Whuh?” there when I moved to the next panel.  Making the emotional shift in his character more jarring when he switches from oddly joking around, to:

Being moody, to Lucy’s disinterest.  But that’s just an odd thing I picked up after going through again to write this rant. It’s not THAT big of an issue, but I do have to ask:

Really? That’s what you got out of that? Paulo says that all your friends were really upset that you were gone, and that’s your response?  That’s the only thing you have to say about this?  Geeze, it’s almost like you don’t really care.

But anyway, we’re finally on to the Carnival.  And we actually do get some nice and interesting dialogue here.

Paulo starts to talk about the things she’s missed out on since she was gone, and it’s actually pretty nice. I like Paulo being more relaxed and natural, playing around with Lucy.  Although someone pointed something out to me that really deserves a mention:

Again?  Paulo is poor, but he’s never been one to “borrow” or mooch off his friends, especially not Lucy.  Paulo has consistently never let his poverty be a burden to anyone else, and it is a real positive factor about him that shows his selflessness.  Paulo to my knowledge never did stuff like that, he was the one who bought Daisy lunch, even when Mike was buying Paulo sodas for the contest it wasn’t like Paulo was mooching off Mike’s money to win the contest. It was more of a mutual effort, since Mike couldn’t stomach the stuff.   Lucy thinking Paulo would “borrow” things just seems so weird to bring up.  And I know none of this stuff is really major or that worth mentioning but honestly…

There is really not much to talk about here.  Imma be real witchu chief, I’m a little underwhelmed right now.  Guest of Honor had me gripped and had fun in the first parts, Boy Toy I could tear apart with its dumb decisions and missed opportunities, and so on and so forth, but this… This is weird.  It’s not that aggravating really, the next page after this is just Paulo and lucy doing rides.   I guess y’know, after 5 chapters that knock you around and turn my stomach inside out with force fed bullshit, I guess you gotta have a nice mediocre one to help mellow you out after a while.   I’m not really complaining, but I just heard so much about this I expected more y’know? I was hoping for something a bit more to sink my teeth into.  

But anyway, back to the comic.  Lucy asks Paulo about Abbey and Daisy (for some reason, honestly it seems she doesn’t care about the group anymore so why ask about them, and also why them?  They’re like the least close to Lucy why would she care about them?)  and…

…what?

*groan* fuck I found something to say.

First of all.  That Face.  Stop That Face.  Secondly, who the hell are you?  I know I said in the previous chapter, that Lucy is no longer Lucy, but this here really solidifies it and is very concerning.  Who the fuck is this?  Lucy has always been snarky; she’s always been one to goad people.  But she was never one to be eager to dig into other people’s drama like this!  What the heck is this?  Who the heck is this? Oh fuck it, whatever she’s a lost cause now.

At least they’re actually talking now which is something I can take some solace behind.  And also, yeah really Lucy!  You would’ve known that if you GAVE A DAMN!  

Okay I need to make up a new name for this new Lucy.  Cause I will never stop comparing her to the Lucy character that had been set up, built upon, and established before unless I make some title that draws a clear distinction to say that she isn’t Lucy.  Because this is so fucking weird to hear from Lucy, digging for drama, and stirring the pot directly like this.  Being such an asshole, and blatantly badmouthing Daisy like this behind her back.   This is not Lucy, I refuse to call her that in the horrible fear that this might actually affect my own view of Lucy, and thus my characterization of Lucy in my own comic.  Hmm, I’m thinking…how about Lacie?  Yeah that sounds good.  It’s like it’s ALMOST Lucy, but it’s not.  And it’s easy to remember, like Madison’s name!  Cause you shorten that to Maddie, and it perfectly encapsulates her entire character which is that she’s mad!   And Lacie perfectly encapsulates this character because…

I am a cheeky asshole.

Will say though, this panel got a smile out of me.  So that’s good.

Anyway, Lacie and Paulo are talking about Drunk Daisy, and it’s alright.  There’s some shipping tension and shit, and I’m just like…

Alright, guy get to the point.  At what point am I supposed to lose my shit at this chapter?  I swear to god, it’s January’s fucking birthday.  Don’t ruin this for me.  Gimme the fuckin’ goods.  Gimme something interesting.

Oh shit, Lacie just found out about Abbey strangling Paulo!  Oh shit, this is interesting!  

Awww Lacie is actually showing some fucking compassion to her friend!  Ignoring this being a blatant ship sailing moment, this is actually interesting!  Alright, you have my attention.  Where are we goi-

…

WHAT?!  BITCH ARE YOU FUCKIN’ F’REAL SHAKES RIGHT NOW?! YOUR FRIEND JUST TOLD YOU THAT YOUR OTHER FRIEND FUCKING THROATPUNCHED AND THREATENED HIM! AND YOU IMMEDIATELY JUMP TO GETTING UPSET WITH HIM ABOUT YOUR BROTHER?!  THAT’S THE NEXT THING ON YOUR MIND?!  THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GONNA BRING UP? RIGHT NOW?!  YOUR BROTHER BEING IN A CAR ACCIDENT?  A CAR ACCIDENT THAT WAS MONTHS AGO!  YOU’RE GONNA GET ON HIM ABOUT THAT, EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW IT WASN’T HIS FAULT, EVEN WHEN YOU KNOW JORDAN WASN’T HURT, EVEN WHEN YOU WERE LITERALLY THERE TO SEE BOTH YOUR BROTHER AND PAULO IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL!  

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! THIS CHAPTER IS LIKE REAL LIFE LAG ON A FREEWAY!  YOU’RE SWAPPING FROM BEING DEAD STOPPED TO GOING 100MPH TO IMMEDIATELY DEAD STOP AGAIN! WHAT IS THIS?  AND ALSO!

What is this tone shift? Lacie goes from caring and comforting with Paulo, to yelling at him, to being sad.  And I know!  Mood swings! Lacie is fucking broken, that is without a shadow of a doubt, but that doesn’t change the fact that this emotional rollercoaster is whiplashing me so hard my neck has the structural integrity of a wet noodle!  I’ve never seen a tonal shift like this before.  This isn’t just jumping emotions page to page; it’s fucking PANEL TO PANEL! What the fuck is this writing?!

Yes, I know I made a whole rant all about January this week, but bitch I will not pass an opportunity to make a good referential joke.  Also

“Abbey’s not that bad.” LACIE YOU DUMB SLUT!  YOU LITERALLY JUST HEARD HOW HE FUCKING THROAT PUNCHED PAULO! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Even ignoring that, Lucy (the real one) NEVER really liked Abbey.  In fact, she was the one person who actually rebuffed Abbey’s white knight schtick!

But let’s go back to the comic for a second, because I ain’t done.

That sure is a lot of presumptions for someone who ADMITTED SHE DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON!

BUT SINCE YOU APPARENTLY HAVE THIS ALL FIGURED OUT CAN YOU PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS CHARACTER?  

Who the fuck is this character? At least Paulo is speaking some fucking sense here!  So that’s one character who isn’t completely ruined. But seriously, what the fuck is this? What the fuck is this character?  

Wait!  You know what this character is?  After the recovery she seems to have all the answers?  She’s acting like she knows everything, that she doesn’t.  It’s like she’s trying to fucking make things go right, but she’s just…so…hateful…

Oh, I see what this is. This is like the result someone would get if they heard what I wanted to do with Lucy being proactive, trying to fix her messes, and standing up for herself; tried to recreate it but not knowing me outside of my negative views of the comic, and ignoring the actual adherence I put to the character.  This is what Taeshi thinks I think Lucy should be.  I feel like this is just one big stab at me… And if it ain’t…Then it’s just a stab in the heart to every fan who gave a shit about Lucy.

Also, dat mad tone shift again tho.

… Alright, just one more January reference.

Please just let me have this one, I just fucking love this scene.

BUT ANYWAY

Oh wow, it’s so beautiful. It’s like I’m looking at a real carnival from way up high…with my glasses off.  Alright, I kid I’m not gonna pick on Taeshi for not going all out on one panel, but it is a bit amusing given the dialogue (and knowing Taeshi can definitely make this look much, much better)

But aww isn’t that nice?

Such a nice sweet scene, of Paulo and Lucy comforting each other, and Lucy accepting the embrace.   It’s really sweet and cute, and there is nothing bad for me to speak about here.  Yet.

“What we did?”

Heh well that’s a queer statement.  

Wonder what you meant by that, Lacie.  Would you like to elaborate?  

Please tell the rest of the class...

What. You. Did.

CONTINUED IN PART 2

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Heart of Steel - XIX

Description: Sir James is known throughout the lands as the most fearsome and honorable warrior. Ballads have been written about him. Men fear him. He is the most trusted knight of King Henry. So why has he given up the glories of war and pledged his loyalty to Princess Y/N?

Pairing: Medieval AU -Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 3,294

Series Masterlist

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Yet the war continued.

It was the kingdoms’ misfortune that they underestimated their mutual enemy. Hydra must have been preparing for this war long before anyone could ever realize. And now all of them were paying the price.

Y/N helped as much as she could from the confines of the castle. She continued to oversee the food, water, and medical supplies that were delivered to the front lines. She also visited the town folks as much as possible. People weren’t just suffering physically, but emotionally as well.

Y/N tried to keep herself busy. The more time she allowed herself to get lost inside her mind, the crazier she felt and the more depressed she became.

Steve wrote to her. He couldn’t give her specifics on the war in fear that their letters could be intercepted. But he did tell her how much he missed her. It seemed that writing and thinking of Y/N was the only source of light he had during such dark times.

Tony helped with Zamora’s army from the castle too, having meetings with generals and advisors. 

King Henry forbid him to ride to battle. After all, he was the heir of Zamora. 

Tony hated it. He wanted to be fighting like his friend Steve. But Zamora’s customs were different than those of Midgard’s.

Y/N often sat in council meetings. She learned it was better to observe everything, listen to every man’s opinion, and then save her own for when her and Tony were alone. He always listened to her. Always.

“You were born to be a king, not me,” Tony had recently told her with a sad smile before shooing her off to bed.

To Y/N’s surprise, Bucky did not flee Zamora. He stayed at her side. But things had changed between them. There was no longer that draw between them. The knight was cold and distant, but still watchful of his princess.

Y/N thought it was best to ignore him as well as she could. It was hard, especially after years of feeling a draw to her knight.

Slowly the princess stopped seeing him as Bucky. He was Sir James to her now.

-------

It was the end of a long day now. Y/N had been helping the medical ward that had been set up in the town square. There were men injured from war that could not return to battle. Some didn’t make the journey back to their kingdom. The rest were now placed on cots.

The princess was no physician or surgeon. But she helped where she could. Sometimes it was just getting fresh water or holding a lonely man’s hand as he died. But it was better than doing nothing.

Y/N was exhausted.

But more than anything… she was sick of watching her people die.

Y/N was lost in her thoughts, barely even having the strength to walk to Moon and ride back to the castle.

So when her foot caught a bump in the footpath, she wasn’t even strong enough to regain her footing or catch herself. 

Just as she accepted that she would be falling, a strong pair of hands gripped her waist and pulled her upright.

Y/N blinked slowly, too exhausted to fight the grip of a stranger.

It felt like a dream as she looked over her shoulder to see that it was Bucky who was steadying her.

How long had he been following her?

She hadn’t seen him anywhere in sight when she was helping the wounded.

The knight observed her face and body for a moment.

Y/N wished he kept his grip on her hips just a few seconds longer. But he let go as soon as she was steady.

“When was the last time you ate something, Your Highness?” Bucky

Y/N touched her forehead, suddenly realizing how lightheaded she was as well. She shrugged and shook her head. Not really answering his question, but brushing it aside altogether.

Bucky sighed in disappointment.

Y/N barely heard him whistle to Persephone.

His loyal steed came cantering to his side.

Without warning her or asking for permission, Bucky lifted Y/N into his arms and planted her on top of the saddle. There was barely a second before he was swing his legs over and placing himself right behind her.

Y/N wanted to yell at him, to reprimand him for manhandling his princess.

But she was so exhausted and she realized how much she missed him. Though he had frequently been at her side, he was distant in every other way.

So Y/N welcomed the feeling of his warm body pressed against her back and his arms wrapped around her as he reached for the reigns.

“Thank you,” Y/N muttered so quietly that she doubted he could even hear it.

“You would have fallen off your horse and broken your neck,” he scolded before making a clicking sound to urge Persephone forward.

Y/N gave a lazy smirk. It felt like old times for just one moment.

She decided to say nothing.

“You have worked yourself to exhaustion…” Bucky continued.

Y/N rolled her eyes, even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “My people need me.”

“Yes, but they also need you alive and healthy too.” He countered.

She didn’t have the strength to argue with him.

The ride from the town square back to the castle only took half an hour or so.

But Y/N was so tired and relaxed in the arms of Bucky that she fell asleep. Her head rested back between the knight’s right shoulder and bicep.

“Is she alright?” Y/N recognized the voice of Peter in her sleep. It sounded like a dream.

“Do not wake her,” Bucky hissed in a hushed voice.

Y/N could barely feel herself being moved from the saddle to someone’s arms.

————— Wanda watched as Bucky carried Y/N’s sleeping body into her bedchambers and carefully slid her into bed.

The servant girl’s heart warmed as the knight pulled the covers up to the princess’ chin.

When Bucky turned to leave, he stopped at the expression Wanda gave him.

“She misses you,” the servant muttered quietly. But there was malice in her eyes.

“I have not left,” the knight answered before continuing his walk past her.

“You know what I speak of, Sir James.” She closed the bedroom door behind her as she hurried after the knight. “Why did you push her away? She told you she loved you! She gave you her heart, the thing she has protected most in her whole life... and you trampled it!”

“Enough, Wanda!” Bucky groaned.

“No!” Wanda snapped and grabbed his arm, whipping him around to face her. “People sing songs and tell tales of your bravery. But I see you for what you truly are: a coward.”

Bucky remained emotionless by her insult.

Then he looked at the ground. “I…I cannot give her what she wants. You know this. I know this. And so does she.”

“But do you truly not believe sharing your true affections is still worth it?” Wanda whispered.

Bucky clenched his jaw and stared into the servants eyes before shaking his head.

He turned and rushed to the door, throwing it open. “You will regret it,” Wanda told him.

He paused in the doorway, letting the words settle over him.

But he gave no reply before storming out the door.

—————————

6 Months Later

Y/N was laying in the grass of her garden, staring up at the clouds and trying to figure out what each one reminded her of. She had been forbidden from helping the wounded or monitoring the rations today. 

Tony and Bruce had rallied against her. She suspected Bucky might have had a secret role, as well.

If she couldn’t help, she would hide away. It had been months since she visited her garden. Part of it was because of the changing seasons. The other part was because she had been avoiding it.

Y/N was punishing herself, ridding her life of anything that caused her joy. 

She never went riding, only using Moon to travel back and forth to the town square. She didn’t read her favorite books, telling herself that she had better things to do than spend time on such hobbies. Lastly, she avoided her garden because it brought her solace…solace that she didn’t deserve. Furthermore, being there reminded her of Bucky and the few stolen moments that life was charitable enough to allow them.

Now it was fall, she’d missed the beautiful blooming that spring brought and the bright colors summer then provided. But now she saw the leaves changing and heard the crinkling of them with every breeze, and she remembered how much she loved autumn.

Y/N was brought out of her daydreaming when she heard and felt heavy footsteps approaching.

She knew Bucky was the only one with access to the garden besides the greenskeeper. Yet she was still surprised to see him.

Y/N noted the tension in his body. But his face remained calm. It didn’t mean anything though: he was trained to never show panic or fear.

“What is it?” Y/N asked him. He had not come to her garden since the last time they kissed. She knew he would not enter unless it was something dire.

“I think it is best you come to the courtyard, Your Majesty.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Why? What has happened?”

“The tower watchmen spotted a couple riders approaching the castle. One was riding with a banner of Midgard.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Steve!” She gasped before jumping to her feet and running past Bucky.

She was barefoot. Her hair in a wavy mess that was far too improper for a princess. She was in a dress that even a commoner would wear, for she did not know she would be forbidden from helping wounded that day.

But she wasn’t thinking about how she looked as she sprinted to the courtyard. But she didn’t stop there. She kept running and ran straight through it and to the gates at the castle walls. She didn’t even notice the crazy stares she got from townsfolk, nobles, and guards.

Y/N walked onto flying bridge and stared into the horizon.

She saw Dame Natasha first, her red hair sticking out from everything else.

Next she saw Sir Clinton and Sir Samuel.

Then Y/N let out a gasp of relief when she spotted Steve amongst the four of them. He rode at the back of the group, which was why she didn’t see him at first.

It worried Y/N that her two knights were accompanying a foreign king. Was it possible that they were all that was left of Zamora’s army?

Suddenly, Y/N felt a presence behind her.

She turned around to find Bucky standing guard. But he wasn’t looking at the princess or the approaching riders. Instead, he was scouting the horizon to see if there was an enemy lingering or some surprise attack trying to be executed, using Steve as bait.

Y/N squinted when she saw that only one of Steve’s hands was holding the reigns, while the other one was holding a sack of some sort.

The four riders came to a halt quickly. Y/N had to take a quick step back to prevent herself from getting trampled.

“What is it? What has happened?” Y/N looked up at Steve only.

He tossed the sack on the ground and it rolled to the princess’ feet.

Y/N felt sick when she saw there was blood soaking the bottom of the sack.

“King Alexander’s head,” Steve clarified darkly.

Her eyes widened, realizing what this meant. If Hydra’s king was dead, then that must mean…

“The war has ended,” Steve declared.

Y/N was about to smile, but then she finally took Steve in. His skin was pale and sweaty. There was red shadows lingering on his skin beneath his eyes.

Suddenly, the king’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he started sliding off of his saddle.

“Steve!” Y/N screeched and rushed forward.

Bucky beat her to the king’s saddle thankfully and caught Steve before he could hit the ground. He lowered him to the ground and called over his shoulder for a medic.

Y/N instantly kneeled to the ground and was cradling Steve’s head in her lap as she called his name.

She looked up at the knights that had accompanied him back. “What happened?”

Natasha looked just as shocked as her and was shaking her head. “He-he said he was scathed in battle... b-but that it was nothing to worry about…” Her voice was numb.

Y/N’s fingers were desperate as they unbuckled his armor and rid his body of it. When his chest plate was removed, she saw a huge stain of blood on the right side of his torso, just under his pectoral muscle.

“Steve? Steve, please!” The princess begged as she rain her fingers through his hair.

His eyes fluttered open at her calling.

But he closed them before smiling almost with delusion, “Hello, my love.” His voice was but a mere sigh.

“Please, stay awake.” Y/N urged him.

Steve nodded numbly, trying his best to calm her and listen to her pleading.

Suddenly Bucky was pulling her away from him as servants ran a canvas stretcher to the king and carefully placed his body on it.

Y/N tried to rush after them as they hurried Steve away. But Bucky pulled her against his chest and stopped her from moving.

“You have to let them help him,” he whispered comfortingly in her ear.

Everyone was too preoccupied with Steve to notice the intimate solace the knight gave his princess.

Y/N allowed herself to go limp in Bucky’s arms…but only for a moment.

She pulled away slowly and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

Bucky leaned forward and brushed her messy hair off her face. Then he brushed a lingering tear on her cheek away with his thumb. “It will be okay,” he whispered reassuringly to her.

Then it seemed he snapped back to reality and realized they had an audience. He quickly dropped his hand and took a step away from her.

By some miracle no one seemed to notice the intimate moment except Natasha, Clint, and Sam. They looked at him almost pathetically, seeing how hard it was for Bucky to be near Y/N when she was in distress and not able to do anything to help her.

Y/N’s eyes fell on the sack filled with King Alexander’s head.

Taking in a deep breath, she grabbed it and headed back toward the castle. She marched into court, knowing her father and mother were lingering there.

The ignorant and pompous nobles gasped at her attire and the sack she held that was dripping blood at her feet.

Y/N looked around the room and then found the eyes of her father and king.

When she did, she tossed the sack forward. “The King of Hydra is dead. The great war is finally over.”

People blinked in shock before processing the words she actually said. Then the room erupted in cheers. But Y/N saw no cause for celebration. How many lives had been lost to get here? Yes, the suffering had ended. But the scars would remain.

Y/N slipped out of the room with the chaos of jubilee that had now taken over the room.

She heard Bucky following a few steps behind, but tried her best to ignore his presence.

The knight already knew where she was going.

Y/N turned the corner to the infirmary.

Bruce seemed to be expecting her already, knowing the princess would not be able to stay away from her betrothed.

“He will be just fine, my dear.” Bruce told Y/N gently.

“He fainted and fell off his horse. That wound… H-how will he be fine?” She challenged.

“Because he did not treat the wound immediately, it continued bleeding. Blood loss causes lightheadedness. And he lost a lot of it. But I cleaned the wound and stitched it up. Right now... he just needs rest, Your Highness.”

Y/N let out a giant and shaky exhale.

Bruce gripped her shoulder and gave her a small smile. “You can go in and sit with him, Your Highness.”

She nodded before quickly going inside.

Bucky waited outside, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword that was strapped at his waist.

Steve sat up in bed when he saw Y/N enter. His eyes lit up with love, but it flickered when he saw that she was glaring at him.

“Do not scare me like that ever again,” Y/N snapped and she made no move toward him. Instead, she stood her ground and crossed her arms.

“Forgive me,” Steve muttered, eyes genuinely fearful of his betrothed’s wrath.

Y/N stance seemed to soften then. “Can it really be true? Is the war truly over?”

Steve nodded, “I promised I would not return until it was won. I brought his head as an offering to you. Hydra cannot harm you ever again, Y/N.”

“You really know how to woo a woman, Your Majesty.” Y/N couldn’t stifle her giggle.

Steve’s heart melted. “I have missed that sound.” Then he blushed when he realized he had said it aloud.

And just like that, the Steve she had first met returned and the general king was hidden away once again.

Steve reached a hand out to her. “Please, come here.” The distance between them was growing more and more torturous.

Y/N did as he requested, already deciding to give up her tough love act.

She sat down at the edge of her bed. But that wasn’t enough for Steve. He pulled her down so she was laying in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. 

Silence settled between them. Neither of them really knew what to say. They had been apart for so long. But ever so slowly, they started to remember the problems they had left unresolved when Steve went to war.

“I have missed you,” the princess whispered ever so quietly.

“I promise... it was not as much as I missed you,” Steve countered as his grip on her body tightened ever so slightly. 

——————

Bucky couldn’t sleep. It was nothing new. But tonight, he felt extra restless. Perhaps it was because he was still worried for Y/N. Bruce had confirmed that Steve would be fine and make a full recovery.

The knight had no idea how Y/N would react if anything were to happen to the King of Midgard.

Bucky knew she loved him to some degree. He saw it in her eyes. But what he saw even more was how hard she had to try to hide her feelings for the king. Bucky wondered if it was easier or harder than it once was hiding her feelings for him.

But the knight was brought out of his reverie when there was a harsh knock at his bedroom door.

His body tensed.

But his hand immediately went for the knife he hid under his pillow every night.

When he opened the door carefully, he was met with Dame Natasha.

He said nothing, waiting for the lady knight to speak first.

“The King of Midgard wishes to see you,” she told him.

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

Part XX

Just a heads up, there are only a few more chapters left in this story. Don’t panic lol

[kantuck]

ADhD, something to think about.

A friend sent me this: (I’m copy/pasting, mistakes are the authors.)

“Kan, saw this on FB, thinking of you.”

I was asked a while ago by a friend to share my thoughts on ADHD, and what I believe about this unique neuro-diversity that we all seem to have. It has taken me some time to put it into words, but here is the basic gist of it and I hope it can help someone to understand the “why” behind what we all experience.

ADHD is not a curse, It is not broken, it is NOT a malfunction of the brain or a “Mis-wiring”. It is not from your mother smoking cigarettes when you were in utero, and it is NOT from too much television as a child. ADHD is a Nuero-diversity. It is a different wiring of the brain as it relates to the body and to information collection AND most importantly it has a purpose! Before I get to that piece though, let me share with you what I KNOW about ADHD.

ADHD is a label that we have assigned to individuals that present with a specific set of symptoms associated with a diagnosable neuro-diversity. These symptoms can include things like distractibility, forgetfulness, inattention, hyper-focused attention, emotional storms, irritability, feelings of worthlessness, active or overactive imagination,  tardiness or skewed senses of time, imposter syndrome, out of control thoughts, and severely low self-esteem.

Recently, research studies have identified three (3) aspects of ADHD that are experienced by almost everyone with this neuro-diversity and not experienced by almost none without it.

Interest-based nervous system: Not just interest-based attention, but your entire nervous system functions differently based on your level of interest. When you find something truly interesting it will actually energize you. Sleep is irrelevant, Food is a fleeting thought. You are sustained by interest. Have you ever found yourself up way past time to go to bed, forgot that you had to go to the bathroom, or didn’t eat, just because you were so interested in something? Yeah, me too.

Emotional Hyper-Arousal:  Imagine this like you have a volume knob for “Emotions” and yours is turned up 5 notches higher than the neuro-typical people around you. Your highs are higher, your lows are lower. Merely funny is hilarious and mildly sad is sorrowful. Everything is extreme. Not worth humor is funny and not worth heartache is indeed sad. Every emotion felt is more-than.

Rejection-sensitive-dysphoria: Basically, we are hypersensitive to rejection, from anyone. It doesn’t really matter if we consciously care about the individual or group that is enacting the rejection. We are just hyper-sensitive to being rejected by anyone for any reason. Even if we don’t want to be part of the club, we are sensitive to the club not wanting us as a member kind of thing.

Now if we combine these symptoms and aspects we begin to see some pretty obvious and reoccurring traits that cause problems in daily life.

Imposter syndrome: Minimizing our accomplishments and maximizing our failures or faults. If we succeed, then it was easy or luck, but if we fail it is because we are flawed or broken and we are totally responsible.

Hyper-focus: I can be focused on something that I am interested in, but cannot manage to pay attention to a board meeting. I am all about the next book coming out, but forget my anniversary.

Emotional storm: I have a thousand thoughts running through my head and each one has an emotion that I have to feel as it passes and therefore I feel a thousand emotions in the span of a few seconds and cannot differentiate between them.

There are many many more that I don’t think that I need to list. You can see the patterns I am sure.

What if…..?

What if ADHD was natural?

What if ADHD was not ADHD, but something else?

What if ADHD was NOT a Deficit or a Disorder, but an adaptation?

Scientific research now suggests that what we know as ADHD is actually an evolutionary adaptation to a Hunter/Gather lifestyle.

In a natural environment, where there are predators and prey, where the rustling of leaves, or the flash of game in the periphery, or the trickling of water heard,  could mean the difference between life or death, it is actually an extreme benefit to have an overabundance of involuntary attention. It is a bonus to be hyper-aware (distractable).

This is why so many that have ADHD wired brains find solace in natural environments. There is so much to “Pull” our attention, but so little to “Pay” attention to. We find ourselves recharged by walks in the forest or sitting near a babbling brook. This is our natural born element and so it invigorates us.

So why so few of us then? Well, let's look at that. Darwin’s theories of evolution state that: If there is a mutation in an individual that is part of a species that makes that individual more likely to survive, then that mutation will be passed along to its offspring and therefore make the offspring more likely to survive than it’s counterparts of the same species and thus, the mutation will eventually, though the process of natural selection, be distributed to the entire species and will no longer be a mutation, just part of the species. For example: if a bird has a mutation that increases its beak size and that increases its survivability, then eventually the entire species will have larger beaks. So, let's look back at 20,000 years into our human history. Everyone that existed on the planet were hunter/gathers. It is very likely that at that time, the majority of individuals were also what we call today, ADHD. Then one day, someone decided that it would be a good idea to plant & farm & build walls & raise livestock & stay in one place.

Now we have these sedentary people that are NOT hunting or gathering in dangerous environments. They are protected by walls and removed from danger.

However, we still have all these ADHDers that cannot stand being still, so they are still hunting and gathering and putting themselves in danger.

Who is more survivable now?

Fast forward 20,000 years…..97% of all humans are sedentary and only 3% are ADHDers.

ADHD is not new, it is not made up by Pharma, it has always been here, just never called the same thing. The first mention of an individual that appeared to display ADHD symptoms that I found was from the writing of Hippocrates, also known as the father of modern medicine, he stated: The patient has quickened responses to sensory experience, but also less tenaciousness because the soul moves on quickly to the next impression.

Back then, “soul” was the word for mind and “impression’ was the word for thought. So what he was saying is ...The patient has heightened responses to external stimulation but has less follow-through because the mind moves on quickly to the next thought.

If that is not ADHD I don’t know what is.

This is not a bad thing though. All we need to do is look throughout history to see ADHDers in action. We can take the symptomatology that we know now and apply it to historical figures and we see that the most innovative and influential individuals in history were probably ADHDers.

Socrates Leonardo Da Vinci Mozart Benjamin Franklin The Wright Brothers Salvadore Dali Walt Disney Nikola Tesla Thomas Edison Albert Einstien John F. Kennedy And if those names don’t do anything for you then how about these names of self-professed ADHDers:

Justin Bieber Simone Biles David Blaine Terry Bradshaw Richard Branson Andre Brown Jim Carrey James Carville Jim Caviezel Wendy Davis Katherine Ellison Josh Freeman Ryan Gosling Viglil Green Ed Hallowell, M.D. Woody Harrelson Mariette Hartley Cameron Herold Paris Hilton Christopher Knight Solange Knowles Adam Kreek Jenny Lawson Greg LeMond Adam Levine Howie Mandel Audra McDonald Alan Meckler Rep. Kendrick Meek Matt Morgan David Neeleman Paul Orfalea Ty Pennington Michael Phelps Pete Rose Michele Rodriguez Louis Smith Leigh Steinberg Payne Stewart Shane Victorino Bubba Watson Henry Winkler Brookley Wofford

ADHD is not the “fault” it’s the exception. We have always been here and we have always been the ones that are changing the world.

There is statistically a higher percentage of ADHD in America than in Europe. Researchers believe that this is because our founding fathers and the immigrants that are our heritage had the out-of-the-box impulsiveness to pack up and go across an entire ocean to make a better life!

ADHD is not a curse, it is not a disorder, society has the disorder because as much as it touts individuality, it is only acknowledged once an individual complies with the obligation of normalcy.  You cannot be creative unless you can get to work on time. You cannot be innovative unless all your bills are paid. Blah Blah Blah….

Being born with ADHD is like being born with a beautiful pair of raven black angel wings. Imagine for a moment how that would be. You would be shunned as a freak. Called an abomination. You would try to hide your birthright if only to “Fit in” or be “normal”, and always throughout all of the insults and put-downs, through all of the pain and sorrow, all you would have to do is spread those beautiful black wings and soar….

We are not the problem. We are the solution. We are the R&D while everyone else trudges on the assembly line. We are the inventors and the visionaries, while the neuro-typical are content with the status quo. We take the risks and run the chance….sometimes to our detriment, but also sometimes to glory.

Doubt yourself all you want. Tell us all that “your” ADHD is a disorder or a disability, but make no mistake…..You are amazing.

[steviemae]

lost love.... not really // ff & sp

requested by @emotionalweirdo01: Can you do an imagine where the reader is sweet peas sister and is dating fangs and then the fangs shooting happens and she is like devastated and he comforts her.... Ya know fluffy shit all around lol

You sat at the bar picking at the glossy topcoat of the wood that was flaking off from all the years of wear and tear. You nervously bit the skin of you lips probably making yourself bleed but your mind wasn’t focusing on anything but your boyfriend, Fangs, getting out of jail today. The new Sheriff in town couldn’t make anything stick and you knew he didn’t kill Midge. Though it broke your heart a little when heard the rumors that they were sleeping together. Sweet Pea made you stay on the southside far away from all the angry groups of people, not wanting you to get hurt or lost in the riot. He knew that on the southside, there were people who would protect you. Not so much on the northside. He needed to get Fangs home safe without having to worry about you as well so he mad you stay at the Wyrm with Hogeye watching you so you wouldn’t leave.

After what felt like hours, Toni came busting through the doors of the Wyrm. You noticed the blood covering her hands and staining her clothes, immediately thinking the worst. Tears in her eyes as they searched frantically for you, “Y/n. Fangs, he- he’s hurt.” She stuttered out when she found you at the bar. And that was the worst scenario that ran through your head. Either your brother or your boyfriend being hurt.

“What do you mean he’s hurt? Where’s Sweet Pea?” you asked jumping down from the stool.

“He was shot. Someone shot him. He’s at the hospital right now in surgery.” You didn’t notice any of the other Serpents walk in until you felt your brother’s arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you in for a hug.

“What happened?” you asked hugging your brother back, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“We were huddled around him trying to keep the rioters away from him, but they were pushing and fighting too hard and we got separated. That’s when they shot him. None of us had any time to react, y/n. We’re sorry.” Toni said letting her tears fall from her eyes.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Toni. Don’t blame yourself.” You said pulling away from Sweet Pea to hug Toni letting her cry into your shoulder. After she calmed down a bit, the reality of it all hit you like a train. You suddenly felt your heart sink and tears blurred your vision making Sweet Pea rush over to you, pulling you back in to hug you.

“He’s gonna be okay, right Pea? He’s gonna make it?” Your voice broke as you spoke, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You gripped the flaps of his jacket tight, “Tell me he’s not going to die, Sweet Pea. Tell me that Fangs isn’t leaving me!” you raised your voice a bit trying to get him to tell you something, anything about how Fangs was doing. He didn’t say anything, just held you tighter and kissed the top of your head. That’s when the tears fell and you sobbed dramatically into Sweet Pea’s chest.

The rest of the Serpents showed up to the Wyrm to figure out a plan to stop the Ghoulie’s that were back in town. Sweet Pea joined in but never once let go of you, not that you would have let him in anyway. You weren’t sobbing anymore, finally steadying your breathing. Poor Sweet Pea’s shirt was soaked with tears but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be there for his sister, knowing that losing Fangs was going to break your heart more than your parents ever did.

FP came back from his office after taking a call, everyone in the room looking at him as if asking a question without actually talking.

“That was the Sheriff’s station. Fangs, he-uh. He didn’t make it.” He whispered the last part, eyes darting to you as you hid your face in Sweet Pea’s chest, sobs wracking through your body. FP put a vote on whether or not to go to war with the Ghoulie’s making your head snap up at Sweet Pea when you felt one of his arms move from hugging you.

“Don’t you dare, Sweet Pea. i can’t lose you too.” You forced out.

“I have to, y/n. If we don’t go to war now, they’ll come after you and everyone else the rest of us care about and i can’t let that happen.” He said sternly looking down at you. You scoffed and pushed him away from you, going over to sit by Toni. She grabbed your hand and let you rest your head on her shoulder as you cried, mourning the death of your boyfriend but also the possible death of your brother.

--

You raced around the Wyrm making sure all of the Serpents, who were now homeless because of the Ghoulie’s who burned down Sunnyside trailer park, had enough blankets and food.

“She’s avoiding it isn’t she.” Toni said walking up to stand beside Sweet Pea who watched as his sister catered to all of the Serpents.

“Yeah, she may have cried the other day, but she hasn’t come to terms with it and she doesn’t want to. That makes it real. She’s a tough girl but our parents leaving and now Fangs is too much for her to handle so she’s distracting herself. I’ll make her face it when it’s time, but right now, i’ll let her be.” He said grabbing a bowl of soup and walking over to you.

“You need to eat before you help anyone else. You can make sure they’ve got everything they need but you need to make sure you do too.” he grabbed your arm and pulled you over to an empty table pushing you down to sit and placing the bowl of Hogeyes famous potato soup that you love so much, in front of you. You ate in silence, Sweet Pea sat in front of you making sure you ate it all when Jughead bust through the door with Archie and FP.

“We have to go. Gather only what you need. The Sheriff is raiding southside for Serpents.”

“Where the hell are we going to go?” Sweet Pea asked standing up, suddenly angry.

“We’ve been offered solace on the northside. Now let’s get moving.”

Sweet Pea grabbed both of your duffel bags, tossing your blankets and pillows into them and zipping them closed. He grabbed your hand and lead you out the door, following Archie and Jughead through the dark streets of what was once your home. Police spotlights shined down the street you were walking on causing Sweet Pea to pull you with him behind a dumpster. No one said anything as you continued your trek to Archie’s house on the Northside.

--

You sat on the back porch of Archie’s house sipping your hot chocolate Mr. Andrews made specifically for you, avoiding everyone's pity gazes. You hadn’t truly mourned the loss of your boyfriend, and you didn’t want to because then it became reality. You had already lost so much and this was just the straw that broke the camels back. You were hurting. You’ve cried so much you didn’t think you had anymore left until Sweet Pea came over and wiped away one tear that you didn’t notice had fell from your eye.

“It’s okay to cry, y’know. Fangs wouldn’t have let you hold all of that anger and sadness inside you. He wouldn't have wanted you to.” Sweet Pea said as he sat next to you on the bench.

“Can we not talk about him like he’s not here anymore. I’m not at that stage of grief yet.” you whispered, “I’m still very much in denial.”

“I know you are. You know you can talk to me about anything and everything, right? He was my best friend, but he was the love of your life.” Your head snapped towards your brother, you and Fangs never said i love you to each other. The two of you have been together for 2 years and haven’t said those words, though you both knew it. You just didn’t think anyone else did.

“Like i said, he’s my best friend and you’re my little sister. I can read the two of you better than you can read each other. You loved him and he loved you. Endlessly.” Sweet Pea took a sip of his coffee before looking at you again, “He told me that he loved you and asked how i felt about it, being your big brother and all. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t stepping over any boundaries with you. I gave him one rule; not to hurt you.” you rested your head on his shoulder as he threw his arm over the back of the bench, “i should punch him the throat for hurting you now.” he joked. You let out a sorry excuse for a laugh, still too sad to manage any other form of emotion.

--

You sat on one of the beat up old couches surrounding the tiny makeshift stage. Everyone was chatting waiting for FP to take center stage and start the meeting. When he did, the whole crowd got quiet, “So before i start this meeting, there’s someone here who was left completely heartbroken because of that damned Sheriff and the lies he spread like wildfire. Y/n, will you come up here please?” He held out his hand for you to come up on stage with him. You hesitated at first, but got up and took hold of his waiting hand as he helped you on stage.

“What’s going on, FP?” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at the man who didn’t say anything, just smiled warmly at you.

“The Sheriff lied. He told all of us one of our Serpents was dead.” He yelled out to the crowd, causing your jaw to drop, “No.” you whispered.

“Fangs isn’t dead.” He clarified. You couldn’t stop the tears that poured out of your eyes. FP pointed over to you brother who was helping Fangs walk up to the stage. You immediately jumped down and raced over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder. Sweet Pea stood behind Fangs to make sure he didn’t fall backwards. The impact of your body made him gasp in pain, “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” You said as you jumped away from him, letting go and taking a step back.

“You better get back over here and hug me, princess. I’ll bare any pain if it’s for you.” He said smiling at you. You stepped closer to him and slowly wrapped your arms around his neck this time. His arms wrapping tightly around you waist, pulling you closer than ever.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again. I really thought i lost you.” you whispered in his ear. He felt tears hit his shoulder making him pull you closer to him, if that was even possible.

“Don’t cry, princess. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know the Sheriff told you guys i was dead until after the Ghoulie war. I tried to call you the second i woke up but the doctors wouldn’t let me.” He explained. He pulled back from the hug, cupping your face in his hands, “I love you, y/n. God it’s going to kill me how much i love you.” he looked deep in your eyes, every emotion running through his and your eyes.

“Too soon for jokes about you dying, Fangs. But i love you too.” a smile broke out on his face, in turn making you smile as well before he leaned in and kissed you with all of the emotion he had felt the last few days, you kissing back just the same.