#i promise im still going to finish my wips but i need a break from them so bad im sorry guys 😭

[junkissed]

soft hours open .ᐟ ༉‧₊˚.

please read below for the specific kind of asks i will accept!

i will be writing sfw drabbles only (scenarios, reactions, headcanons, drabbles, etc). any requests for long fics/nsfw content will be deleted. groups i will write for:

svt (all members + units)

enhypen (hyung line only)

txt (all members)

skz (all members)

ateez (all members)

please check my guidelines for more info about what i will/won't write, but please feel free to send any short ideas as long as they are sfw/fluff! ♡

[jeysbvck]

tell me you love me ('cause that's all that i need to hear)

a/n: thank u to my bestie @vigilvntes for reading and being my hype person and coming up with the perfect title for this little thing i wrote! comabuck has been embedded in my brain since last year thanks to the lovely genius @loveyourownsmiilee first spoke about the theory, and after 6x10 i reworked the wip a little and came up with this! hope you all like it, and please reblog!!

warnings: minor spoilers for 6x10, angst, fluff, coma buck. if im missing any just let me know!

word count: 2.6k

summary: "You're in love with Buck." Maddie said like it was a factual statement. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Eddie is in love with Buck. "You didn't know?" She asked.

"No, I, um, I knew." Eddie confessed, and a weight fell off his shoulders as he did. "I just…"

"Didn't know anyone else knew." Maddie finished, and Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he nodded. "Yeah, exactly." "Well, I'm pretty sure the only person that doesn't know, is Buck."

The sounds from the television mounted on the pale blue walls and the high-pitched rhythmic beeping from the monitor Buck was hooked up to were no match for how loud Eddie's thoughts were. He couldn't stop playing what happened in his mind, like he was watching a horror movie on a movie screen. He went over every moment, from Buck going up the ladder instead of Chim, of Eddie himself hooking Buck's rope. He'd lost count of how many times he'd done it, it was almost second nature at this point, but had he made a mistake this time?

Eddie knew he'd never forget the sight of Buck's lifeless body hanging from the rope, or the way his stomach dropped, his chest tightened as he realised what had happened. He saw it when he closed his eyes, he could see it now, and each time it made him want to throw up. Sure, Buck had been hurt before, and it scared Eddie, but not like this, and he'd never been out for this long, he'd never been quiet for this long. Eddie longed to hear the sound of Buck's voice; to hear one of the random facts Buck had learned, or for Buck to ask him a question about a receipe. Even if he could just hear his laugh that filled Eddie with warmth and comfort, like it was his favourite song.

The conversation with Chris about Buck was almost as hard as the conversation about Shannon. Eddie didn't know what to tell him, he didn't have the answers to the questions Chris was asking. He couldn't promise that Buck would be okay, he couldn't tell him if or when Buck would wake up. After Eddie and his son cried and hugged, they had a movie night, with ice cream for dinner, but Eddie couldn't focus. All he could think about was when he was shot and was it all as hard for Buck as it was for Eddie now? Did Buck feel like this; did the thought of losing his partner shatter his heart into little shards that were stabbing his chest? Did Buck feel like his world was ending, just as Eddie did?

Eddie knew he had an advantage over Buck in their parallel situations. Eddie knew how much he and Chris needed Buck, it's why Eddie put him in his will. Something they hadn't spoken about, even since the shooting. Buck didn't understand how much they needed him, and Eddie was sure he still didn't truly understand, even after everything. Eddie needed Buck to fight to come home, to come back, and that's why he allowed Chris to visit Buck.

It broke Eddie's heart, seeing Chris' heart break as he stared at Buck. "He looks like he's sleeping." Chris whispered. Eddie choked on his words, but thankfully Hen stepped in, and placed a hand on Chris' shoulder. "He is sleeping," Hen replied gently, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. "He just needs a lot of it to get better, and the machine helps him." Chris just nodded, then slowly made his way to Buck, sliding his small hand into Bucks large, soft ones. He started talking quietly, and Eddie could only make out certain words, but the one phrase he did catch made him leave the room before he could break down. "I know you'll wake up, Buck, because you promised you weren't going anywhere."

Eddie, Maddie, and the rest of the 118 all took shifts in sitting with Buck. When it was Eddie's turn, sometimes he brought Chris, who liked to read to Buck while Eddie spent the whole time choking on the permanent lump in his throat. When Eddie visited alone, he had to fight the urge to hold Buck's hand, he had to fight the wave of emotion that threatened to drown him. Instead, he told himself Buck could hear him, and he spoke about work, passed on Carla's messages, told him when to expect Chris; he talked about everything, except his own feelings.

That was, until, Buck crashed. Eddie and Bobby were watching through the window, while Hen was in the room. Then, the machine started beeping wildly, and Hen jumped off the chair as she screamed for someone to help. Bobby had to hold Eddie back as he tried to burst into the room, and now Eddie was hiding outside, begging himself not to have a panic attack, begging the universe not to take Buck away from him.

Maddie was the one who found him, and they sat silently on the bench. "He's back." Maddie said, after a while. "He's not awake, but they got him back."

Eddie let out a breath of relief, one he didn't realise he was holding onto, and Maddie put her hand on his arm. "You should tell him."

Eddie looked at her, confused. "Tell who what?" He asked, and Maddie chuckled. "Buck. You love him."

"I-uh-I-what?" Eddie stumbled, words failing him. Of all the things he thought Maddie was going to say when she sat down, this was not on the list of possibilities.

"You're in love with Buck." Maddie said, like it was a factual statement. The sky is blue, the grass is green and Eddie is in love with Buck. "You didn't know?" She asked.

"No, I, um, I knew." Eddie confessed, and a weight fell off his shoulders as he did. "I just…"

"Didn't know anyone else knew." Maddie finished, and Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he nodded. "Yeah, exactly."

"Well, I'm pretty sure the only person that doesn't know, is Buck." Maddie replied.

"Yeah, maybe he never will." Eddie whispered. Maddie snatched Eddie's hand and gave it a squeeze, making Eddie look at her.

"Buck is going to be okay. He's going to come back to us, to you." She said, her resolve and confidence in her younger brother was enough to let Eddie hope too. "Tell him, now. It'll make you feel better, and it might be enough."

"Enough to what?"

"Bring him back."

-

So here was Eddie, about to confess to his partner, his best friend, the person he'd put in charge of his life, his world, that he was in love with him, with absolutely no idea if he could hear him. He took Bucks hand, which was surprisingly warm, and sighed. Even here, Buck was stunning, and Maddies words echoed round his brain. It might be enough to bring him back. Eddie was willing to try anything to make Buck open his eyes, and if this worked, if Buck opened his eyes and laughed at Eddie's confession of love, it would be worth it, just to look into Buck's breathtaking blue eyes.  

"Hey Buck, it's me, again." Eddie began, rolling his eyes as the heat of embarrassment crept into his cheeks. "Shit, this is embarrassing. I need to tell you something, and it can't wait anymore." Eddie sighed, his eyes fixed on Bucks face, waiting for any sign that Buck was waking up, or even just that he could hear him, but nothing. "Buck, I need you to wake up. I don't know how to do any of this without you. You just- you're such an important part of my life, of Christopher's life, we need you, more than you know."

"I can't function without you, Buck, nothing feels right. Being at work, without you there, it's wrong. Sure, we've worked without each other before, but this is different, because right now, you're not coming back. And I need to you're coming back. Movie nights without you don't feel the same, I miss you talking over the film, I miss you making us pause it because you have a crazy fact. Christopher won't even look at the zoo when we drive past it. He's been writing everything down in a little notebook, everything that he's been doing, so he can tell you when you're awake."

"Jee misses her uncle Buck too, she keeps asking for you, and Chim doesn't know what to tell her. She knows somethings wrong, kids always do, but she doesn't understand. We all need you, Buck, we love you. I- I love you, Buck."

Eddie wiped the tears streaming down his face, and his eyes darted up to the window, grateful that nobody was watching this unfold. Had Maddie told everyone about the conversation? Were they giving Eddie privacy because they knew he was confessing his feelings? He hated that this is how he had to do this. He hated that the first time he was truly expressing his feelings for Buck, was while Buck was seriously hurt. A part of him hoped it didn't work, that Buck didn't hear him, then Eddie could tell him after his recovery. He had recognised his feelings long ago, and he didn't want Buck to think this was just because he was hurt.

"Buck, I've been in love with you for years. I- I didn't know until therapy, but Frank- well, he made me see. I'm not sure when I fell in love with you, maybe it just happened one day. You just- you make me feel safe, Buck, there's nothing that feels more like home than being with you and Christopher. I handed you most of my heart when I made you Chris' guardian, and now I'm giving you the rest of it."

Eddie's heart slammed loudly against his ribcage, and he was certain that if anyone walked in now -or if Buck woke up- they'd be able to hear it too. He couldn't bear to look at Buck anymore, so he leant forward, dropping his head down as he brought Buck's knuckles to his lips. Then, he lowered Buck's hand back on the bed, but he didn't let go, even when Bobby finally came into the room.

"You alright?" Bobby asked and Eddie nodded. "Athena is on the way, she's bringing coffee, I think everyone's had enough of the stuff they serve in the cafeteria." 

Eddie chuckled, then sighed. "I'll get out of your way in a moment, Cap, I just-" Eddie stopped, his eyes wide as he stared at Buck. Was he imagining things, or did Buck just squeeze his hand?

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked, and Eddie shook his head. "Nothing, I just thought I felt-"

He felt it again, this time it was stronger and he looked up at his Captain. "Bobby, I think he's waking up!"

Bobby took two strides towards the bed and took Buck's other hand. "Buck? Can you hear me?"

Eddie's blood turned to ice in his veins as he flashed back to when he asked Buck that same question, before he realised he was unconscious in the air. Everything came rushing back, the tight chest, the guilt and anger that bubbled up when he tried and failed to pull Buck towards him. But when Eddie heard Bobby open the door and shout for help, Eddie was brought back to reality. His eyes found Buck, whose eyes were open slightly, as he adjusted to the light.

Eddie felt relief consume him, and he tried as hard as he could to blink the tears away as the nurses removed the tube from Buck's throat and helped him sit up. He watched silently as Bobby helped Buck take a drink of water.

"How you feeling, kid?" Bobby asked, and Buck's slight chuckle turned into a cough. "Like I've been hit by lightning."

Eddie rolled his eyes but his heart swelled. Buck's voice was gravelly, and he no doubt had a sore throat from the intubation tube, but he still sounded like himself. Eddie didn't even know what to say, he just stared at Buck, like he couldn't believe he was real. Like Eddie was going to wake up any moment, and Buck was going to be lifeless again.

"I guess I won't be working for a while, huh Bobby?" Buck said, and Bobby laughed.

"You've been awake for two minutes and you're already worrying about coming back to work." Bobby sighed, and Buck smiled, bashfully. "Just focus on getting better first, okay?"

"Okay." Buck agreed, then he looked at Eddie for the first time, and his eyes softened, like he was seeing his favourite painting for the first time. "Hey, Eddie."

"Hey, Buck." Eddie breathed. Hearing his name come out of his mouth, for the first time in almost two weeks, was almost enough to make Eddie burst into tears, but luckily he held it together.

"Hey Cap?" Buck said, his eyes fixed on Eddie, a playful smirk on his face, and Eddie knitted his eyebrows together, watching Buck suspiciously. "Did you know Eddie loves me?"

Eddie choked on air as Buck grinned smugly. Eddie was shook, not only by what had just happened, but by the mere fact that Buck had actually heard him.

"I'll go let everyone know you're awake." Bobby said, the chair scraping across the floor as he stood up, and before he left the room, he turned to Buck. "And yes, I did know."

Buck laughed loudly as Eddie groaned. "You're such an ass." Eddie said, and Buck grinned.

"Yeah, but you love me." Buck replied, and Eddie rolled his eyes. "Come 'ere." He said, beckoning Eddie towards him with a curl of his finger.

Eddie got up from the chair and sat next to Buck on the bed, the shitty hospital mattress dipping as he did. Buck too a deep breath, and then smiled. "I love you, Eddie."

"You...you do?"

Buck nodded and held his hand out flat, palm facing up. Eddie took it without hesitation, and Buck wrapped his fingers round Eddie's tight, just as he had done to Buck's earlier. "I'm in love with you."

Eddie's free hand instinctively caressed Buck's cheek, Buck's long eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes at the gentle, intimate touch. Eddie leaned in slowly, stopping just inches away from Buck's full lips. "You know, this isn't because you're-"

Buck closed the small gap between the two men, their lips moulding together as they fell into the kiss. Eddie had never had a kiss like this, it took all the oxygen from his lungs, the volcano inside him erupting as the world around them faded away. This is what a first kiss is supposed to feel like.

"I know it isn't." Buck mumbled against Eddie's lips. "We should've done that a long time ago."

"We're idiots." Eddie said with a laugh, and Buck beamed. "We've got plenty of time to make up for it, though." He replied, pressing his lips to Buck's again, just in time for the rest of the 118 to burst through the door.

Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Chim, Hen and Ravi all stood crowded at the door, staring at the two men on the hospital bed. Then, Hen grinned and shouted, "Time to pay up!" as Chim and Ravi groaned and muttered complaints under their breaths.

"You guys knew?!" Buck asked, and Chimney laughed.

"Neither one of you was very subtle about it, cowboy."

"I'm never going to live that down." Eddie grumbled, and Buck laughed as he kissed his cheek.

"Just be glad those weren't your last words to me." Buck teased and Eddie groaned again. "Is it too late to retract my declaration of love?" He asked.

"Yes it is." Buck giggled, then his voice dropped so only Eddie could hear him. "Maybe I still have my cowboy hat somewhere, from when I worked on the ranch. Would that make up for my mocking?"

Eddie raised his eyebrow at Buck, who was smirking shyly at his adorable attempt to flirt. "Hmm, It's a start." Eddie replied, before kissing Buck again, forgetting -or not caring- that everyone else was still in the room. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Buckley."

"Oh I'm counting on it, Diaz."

[itsjaywalkers]

hi lovey how are you <3

it's late—like,,,4am late—and im somehow spewing out actual sentences BUT i have a question and i've been debating on how to start this whole thing so ill just say fuck it n get it out there—how do you keep up with all your wips??? bc like,,,,i've started writing, and i LOVE it. it's so fun to have these ideas finally out in word format instead of just stuck in my head.

but i have a really bad habit of starting smth n then...moving on to smth else when inspiration strikes. i occasionally go back to what i was originally writing, but even then it doesn't last long before im starting a whole new story 😭 im a little peeved as i've completely abandoned this one writing i slaved away at for days abt the backstory of one of my ocs—im somewhat proud of it n i don't want to just not get back into it.

as i write this, im currently staring at my laptop as i churn out yet another story of said oc (along with multiple other ocs myself n a friend made together) n im just,,,perplexed?? i suppose, on how so many fic writers keep up with all their wips.

i realize now that im just droning on n on so ill end here. writing is a bitch but also feels me with accomplishment when i do end up finishing smth, so i was just curious as to how you work around wips n things like that.

hello darling, i'm okay!! kinda dreading today's shift, but it is what it is. how are u tho??

and to be honest with u, i don't keep up with my wips like . at all . i do try to maintain some order, and sometimes i forbid myself from working on a story in favour of focusing on another one, but it doesn't always work, and there are times in which i really want to work on a fic even tho it's not a priority or supposed to be posted any time soon. but still, i try not to beat myself up over it, bc fanfiction is a hobby and something that i do for fun!! it shouldn't feel like a chore, so even if i do want to keep a schedule or alternate between wips so i can have some resemblance of balance, it's not really necessary, or even possible, considering the amount of wips i have lmao. it's our work and our writing, we're free to never finish anything if we don't want to, or to write 13847872648 fics at the same time, or to write only one for the rest of our lives. there are no rules or a right way to go about it yk??? i totally get the need to . focus on just one project, or at least be able to finish something, anything, but it'll happen at some point, i promise, and u should never force yourself, especially when it comes to an activity u do bc u love it and enjoy it

it's different if we talk about original fiction or original characters.. at least in my case!! i didn't get into writing fanfic until a few years ago, but i've been writing original stories since i can remember!! in fact there's this one i'm very slowly making progress with, that i came up with back when i was 17, and that i really want to . finish someday and hopefully try and publish it. for me, and when i'm really passionate about a project, like with this one, i do . force myself to not write anything else . it's inevitable to get new ideas, so i write them down, i make pinterest boards and even outlines, and occassionally, i also start them, write a lil of them when i need a break or to scratch the itch. but otherwise i just . do my best to stick to the one that i really love and i'm the proudest of. i do tend to hyperfixate and obsess a lot, so it's not THAT hard for me, bc even if i do get distracted sometimes, i always come back to this story. especially since i've been working on it for almost 5 years now, and i know it like the back of my hand. i could write three prequels and four sequels lol

so really, i don't think there's a right or wrong way to go about this. one of my best friends, and a writer i quite admire, jumps from a wip to another all the time, and also struggles to finish a story, but she just . trusts the process . lets herself have fun and write whatever she wants every day . it's been a while since she last finished something but she isn't too worried yk?? she enjoys what she does, and what matters is that she keeps writing. every person is different, and the way they approach writing is, too!!

my advice is to try and find out what works best for u and to stop beating yourself up over something that might be out of ur control. if u have this one story that's really important to u and that u really wanna finish, then maybe ur gonna have to practise some self-discipline, and force yourself a little, forbid yourself from getting distracted with these other shiny new ideas. but if doing that ruins the whole thing for u and sucks the fun out of writing then . take it one day at a time, focus on something different each day, and start 4 stories in the same week. it doesn't matter babe!! writing is an art, there's not a correct way to do it!!

[facewithoutheart]

Thanks for the tag @martsonmars 🥰 I swear I’ll never break another dry piece of spaghetti on purpose if only you promise to make Baz nice to Simon always and forever. Ah! Just saw @forabeatofadrum tag me I’ll read your snippet in a sec 😁

Aaaaanyway my COBB is live, I’ve mostly finished chapters 4-12 barring a few changes I still need to make, and I’m working on chapter 13. In case y’all wanted an update? I dunno.

Here’s a Simon POV from chapter 11. Not spoilery but throwing it under a break anyway:

“So what brings you to Austin?”

Nico peers over black Ray-Bans. “Two guesses.”

“Fiona?”

“I really didn’t think you’d need two,” he sighs, disappointment oozing from his pores.

“Me?”

He twirls one finger half-arsed in the air. “Winner, winner.” Then, he brings his celebratory index to my forehead and joins it with his thumb to flick me. (It hurts more than I let on.) “You booked a gig without asking.”

“Punish me for breathing, next.”

“I might.” He sticks out his tongue. “Okay, so maybe your first guess was right. ’M kind of a shite manager, aren’t I?”

I resist the urge to do my celebratory Simon-was-right dance. “I don’t need much.”

“Well.” He pushes up his sunglasses so they properly cover his eyes. “Fiona asked me to stop by. Said you and the formerly-goat-boys got an interesting proposal.” He waggles his eyebrows over the tops of his Ray-Bans while I groan.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you.”

He does a little jig.

“You’re going to make me stew in the suspense for my whole show.”

It’s turning a bit too close to Riverdance for my comfort.

“You’re a real bastard, you know.”

Now that I’m into the meat of the fic I’ll just be posting Nico-ridiculousness until I’m done hahahaha. Or, like, random words to avoid spoilers. Or, WHO KNOWS, maybe I’ll get absorbed into another WIP soon.

Hi hello tagging you if you wanna share but no pressure: @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin @urban-sith @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @shemakesmeforget @stardustasincocaine @captain-aralias @aristocratic-otter @moodandmist @johnwgrey @takitalks @jbrrring @excalisbury @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @confused-bi-queer @palimpsessed @tea-brigade @cutestkilla @creepyspice @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @mrskrementz @bazzybelle @gekkoinapeartree @dragoneggo @letraspal @im-gettingby @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @rainnorwind @annabellelux @nightimedreamersworld @messofthejess @ionlydrinkhotwater

[the-wee-woo-royal]

Table For One

WOOO!! ITS MY BDAY!!! I decided to finally finish an old wip of mine as a gift to myself.

This is actually the first fic id ever written over a year and a half ago But i was too scared to post it. It took a lot of editing and re-writing but i can now say im pretty confident with it.

Tagging (dm or comment to be added/removed): @obsidianfr3sk @greenalmond  @galaxy-creationz  @healing-winston-pratt @justsomerandomficsforrenegades

Almost an hour later (Yes, this was taking longer than expected.) he got a quick chime on his Renegade communicator from Prism. It was a brief message but the only word he caught was ‘Simon’, before the man himself stormed into his office.

There was a slight discomfort in Hugh telling him he was forgetting something important. He tried to wrap his head around it, but it was most likely another paper he needed to sign or something to approve. Sitting at his desk, he continued his work. The uneasy feeling was still present, but this time he brushed it off. Tonight he would get everything done and be able to go home in peace. 

And he was not happy. 

For as long as Hugh knew him, Simon radiated confidence, even when he didn’t completely feel it, but now he looked crushed. His eyes were rimmed red and his face was flushed, like he’d been crying… a lot. His usual tall stance was replaced by Simon holding himself, like he was on the edge of breaking.

 “Oh, My Love, what’s wro-.” Hugh cut himself off, as Simon seemed to fume at his words. Hugh took in his slightly formal attire.

It wasn’t a stray paper he’d forgotten. 

Hugh could already tell he’d be in loads of trouble, “Dinner,” he mumbled, lowering his head in shame. He looked back at Simon, who was breathing hard. He has his jaw set and his eyebrows knit together, and Hugh could tell more tears were threatening to fall. 

Simon was beyond furious, but it hurt even more that his husband completely forgot about him.

“Yeah,” Simon said sourly, “Dinner.”

They both stayed silent for a moment, and Hugh knew his actions would cause a bigger punishment than just having to sleep on the couch tonight.

Simon continued to look at Hugh for some sort of explanation. Maybe an apology? Hugh looked at his desk for a moment, he really didn’t know what to say because the outright truth was pathetic. Forgetting?! About the love of his life? 

He met Simon's eyes again, Simon crossed his arms and looked at him in a way that silently said what the hell?

Hugh took a breath, “Love,” he started softly, which caused Simon to scoff, “I’m sorry. I- um, I just- uh, just-” 

Simon cut him off, “You just what, Hugh? What was SO important that you completely bailed on me.” His voice getting a little louder with every word. 

There was another beat of silence, “Listen, I needed-” Hugh started, accidentally having it come out more fierce and sharp than he meant it to. He was instantly cut off again, regretting the start to that. 

Simon was not in the mood for his crap excuses right now and not with that tone.

“NO!” Simon yelled, “DON’T GET TO TELL ME TO LISTEN” Simon took a breath, trying to calm himself, but failed miserably. He glared directly into Hugh’s eyes. “I- I waited for you. An HOUR, HUGH, AN HOUR!” Simon’s natural calm composure was gone, he was shaking now, and a few escaped tears rolling down his cheek. “30 MINUTES IN THE RESTAURANT, LOOKING LIKE A COMPLETE LOSER WHO GOT STOOD UP! AND THEN  ANOTHER 30 FOR YOU IN THE CAR! WHY DIDN'T YOU PICK UP YOUR PHONE? WHY DID YOU IGNORE ME?! WHY DID YOU FORGET ME?!” Simon started sobbing into his clenched fists, Hugh rushed to him but Simon put a hand out to stop him from getting closer. “I had to call Prism and have her tell me that you were still here! WORKING! YOU PROMISED ME WE WOULD SPEND TIME TOGETHER! THAT WE’D FINALLY GET A BREAK! BECAUSE I NEEDED YOU!... an-and I thought you needed me too.” So much anger dissolved into sadness after his outburst, Hugh gently grabbed Simon’s outstretched hand and pulled him into a tight embrace. There was a moment of hesitation before Simon buried his face in Hugh's chest. They stood there for a few minutes, only Simon’s crying echoing in the room.

Hugh knew that an apology was worthless at the moment. He messed up, again. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. Not that they had too much spare time to start with, but most of their canceled dates were because of him. It was worse at the moment, because this was the first time he actually forgot.  

There was no way to tell how long they stood there, but it was long enough for Simon’s tears to slow and pull away from Hugh. 

Hugh straightened himself a little and looked down at his husband. He was never good with people crying and sadness, but he tried anyway. Hopefully, something was better than nothing right now, although it was unlikely, “I’m so sorry, I had so much work to do. I should have remembered to notify you,” Hugh said slowly, trying to comfort him.

Simon let loose a humorless laugh, “No, Hugh, you should have come,” Simon whispered drly, but the sadness was all the same.

He looked up at Hugh “You shouldn’t have called earlier to cancel. You should have come and been with me.”

“Hon-”

“No, don't sweet talk me. I want you to tell me why you find it impossible put a pause on Captain Chromium and take time to be my husband.” A few more tears rolled down his already damp cheeks. Hugh could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He felt so ashamed for causing his husband this hurt. He was heartbroken because of him. Simon continued with a wobbly voice, “I want my husband, Hugh, I miss him.”

Hugh thought of some reassuring things to say, but nothing could come out of his mouth. He could promise and swear that it'll never happen again, hold Simon tight and plead for forgiveness. 

But it wouldn't be real. They both would know it deep down. It would happen again because Simon was right, as usual. He just couldn't put a pause to his hero persona. 

Simon would ask a thousand more times and Hugh still wouldn’t be able to answer why. 

Simon took Hugh’s silence as the end of this argument for now. If there was nothing for Hugh to say, there was nothing Simon could do. 

“You finish what you need to do,” Simon said with more sniffles, looking at the floor. “I'm going home.” 

“Wait-” Hugh’s voice cracked. He didn’t want him to leave. Not like this.

Simon snapped back, “Why should I? Wait?! For how much longer?” Simon gave Hugh another questioning look but he went quiet again. 

Hugh watched as Simon fiddled with his hands and walked back to Hugh, and grabbed his hand that was limp at his side. Hugh looked at Simon confused as he placed something in Hugh’s hand and closed it for him. Simon used both of his hands to hold Hugh’s and brought it to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss to it. 

“Return it to me when you can be my husband again,” Simon whispered into his hand with closed eyes. 

Then he left. 

Hugh allowed his tears to fall when he opened his hand, the feeling of failure spreading through his body. 

Hugh couldn’t tell when, but he’d ended up kneeling on the floor, unable to take his eyes off Simon’s wedding ring shining back at him.

.

.

.

Right back to agnst.

Its short but i enjoyed re-writing it to better reflect my writing now (i love my old fics but i had some things to work on lmao)

I hope you liked it!!

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

hello lovely, could I ask for more info on these two wips:

arwencelot polycule

1x08 1x09 lancelot fix it

cuz 👀... i mean all of your titles make me very very intrigued so if you have one you'd like to talk about instead, plz feel free <3

arwencelot polycule is part of Modern polycule chaos and is basically lance realsing he has a crush on gwen and arthur and ofc hating himself bc im mean and arwen realising the same and just everyone dealing with this but its nice bc there's no great tragedy involved this time its literally just... do you wanna go on a date and lance realises its ok? like his partners are fine with it and i prob won't ever finish it but its nice :')

1x08 1x09 lancelot fix it is actually the last two fics of If Lancelot stayed which are aus of the above eps aka they all help save Mordred, and Lance picks up the black knight's gauntlet. they are very plotty and kinda pendragon focused so idk but i would like to finish them!

“You look happy!” Morgana laughed. “Elyan settling in well?”

Gwen nodded happily. “He and Gwaine are helping Dad at the forge and Elyan actually quite enjoys it now. And Gwaine does love the fire.”

Morgana smiled. “it’s good that he’s got friends.” Yes. Friends, thought Gwen, barely suppressing a smile.

“I saw that big man following around after Gaius. Gaius looked kind of annoyed.”

Gwen smiled. “Yes, Percival does a lot of Merlin’s work now. He looks intimidating but he knows his stuff and besides he’s good at carrying people.” She smirked. “It is strange how many people have suddenly become sick without any symptoms…”

In fact Gaius had got so fed up with all the perfectly well people sending for the… services of his new apprentice he’d taken to sending a highly embarrassed Percival down beforehand to check it was actually a legitimate medical situation. This had worked by and large, expect when Percival had showed up at the forge profoundly traumatised from having to help a pregnant woman give birth on his own because Gaius couldn’t get there quick enough.

oh yeah and there is still a good helping of silliness :')

"Percival! I need to ask a favour."

Percival went bright red. "Merlin, I really don’t think that’s appropriate-"

"It’s really important but I should warn you you will be breaking the law."

"I’m very aware of that!” the big man hissed, still scarlet in the face. "I would’ve thought you would be too!"

"I am!" Merlin insisted, wondering why Percival was making such a big deal out of this. He was already breaking at least ten laws just by being in Camelot with his partners.

Percival folded his massive arms, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "Merlin, you’re courting my partner’s sister, I really don’t think they’d be ok with-"

"Wha- oh!" Merlin realised how Percival had misunderstood and couldn’t help but giggle. "No Perce, I don’t mean- It’s for a medical reason!"

"Yes, that’s what everyone says!" Percival exclaimed, pulling away from him.

“Percival!” Merlin was torn between laughter and wanting to slap him. “I promise I’m not trying to seduce you, I just need your medical expertise."

Percival stared at him suspiciously. “You swear?”

“Yes.” He grabbed his arm and pulled him away, looking about him anxiously. “Come on genius, we don’t have time to waste.”

[bravomckenzie]

rules: answer 30 questions and tag blogs you are contractually obligated to know better

tagged by: @admdmrtn and @agentsunshine thanks bitches 😌

tagging: mmmmmm lets do @venueska, @bagledere, @bobbyboops, @powerberry, and @mistyeyedbi and i won’t tag all my friends who alicia and chrisha tagged but i am in spirit. no pressure tho lmk if you want me to remove you!!!

i’m gonna use the version i was tagged in idk if theres others i’m just copy and pasting mama

name/nickname: presley but y’all be calling me mama in return sometimes

gender: female, she/her 

star sign: scorpio sun, aquarius moon, and sag rising

height: 5′5

birthday: november 8

lucky number: 3! and all numbers divisible by three so 6, 9, 12, 15, etc.

when did you create this blog: march 2020 oof i can’t believe it’ll be a year soon

what do I post: bullshit??? SIJDFHJI idk mostly litg and twc! and some random nonsense mixed in.

last thing googled: "how to write a 30 day notice” bc i’m moving soon SKJDBFKJEBFGJKBFG

do I get asks: i do!! mostly anons, but also from some of my friends!! i luv my frequent fliers and my randoms who have random shit to ask me

why I chose my url: i was ready to leave the litg fandom to move to twc with all of my friends but realized bobby is still and will always be number one in my heart!!!! so bravomckenzie it was. 

my current projects/wips: ciwyw although not for much longer, cruel summer sort of but it won’t be out for a long while bc i need a break in general but especially from litg, i’m dabbling in twc shite but idk if i’ll ever post it, and then i’m working on an original work!

favorite bands: one direction and what about it?, my chemical romance, mariana’s trench, all time low, *nsync

favorite solo artists: taylor swift, halsey, demi lovato, george strait, harry styles

song stuck in my head: i’ve had ‘much too young (to feel this damn old)’ by garth brooks stuck in my head on and off for months now

favorite song: of all time? my love is like a star - demi lovato! currently? champagne problems - taylor swift

last movie: i think i rewatched going clear last if that counts

last show: the late show with stephen colbert!! or maybe late night with seth meyers? idk i watch both every night idk which order i watched in last night

favorite food: steak or salmon 

food I hate: i rather die than eat cooked cabbage

favorite color: red!!

favorite animal: pigs and frogs/toads

what I’m currently wearing: a t-shirt and pajama shorts at 2pm it be like that sometimes

dream job: a cast member at disney world, ideally i’d like to be a fairy godmother in training at the bibbidi bobbidi boutique! or i’d like to be a character attendant. but i’d be happy lichrally cleaning the toilets i don’t care i just want to be where the magic happens

dream trip: if you would like me to not say disney world again considering how many times i’ve been, i’ve never seen a clear water beach so wherever i can find one would be nice! also i wanna go to DC real bad bc im a history nerd but........ perhaps not anytime soon. oh and i wanna see ireland it’s so pretty

currently reading: i just fucking finally finished going clear but i haven’t started anything new! i’m planning on starting obama’s new book a promised land soon.

currently thinking about: no thoughts head empty

nationality: american unfortunately 

fun fact: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i can juggle

top three fictional universes: honestly i don’t even have an answer i mean i guess twc by default? maybe the teen wolf universe? and idk i don’t have a third i don’t consume a lot of media that has alternate universes or whatever i tend to like things that are modern and current in this universe in some way idk im sorry im boring mama. 

[mieohmy]

jae!! i don't even stan the boyz, let alone read their fics but since you wrote it, i read it haha. also i always found sunwoo cute bc my friend likes the boyz and she biases him, but anyways, i'm telling you, i'm so glad i read this!! i've actually been meaning to read this for a while now too, just more of your fics in general but exams *cries*, but i need a break, so here i am since i ran out of jaemin fics to read. also!! when are you going to write a full fic for jaemin ahhh, i'm just gonna read for the other groups since i read through the nct masterlist already haha. also it’s been a while since I’ve been so engrossed in a fic omg... it’s so good jae!! i love how sunwoo mentioned to pay for the food and the reader was sold. also i noticed a theme, and i see you have a thing for melon and banana popsicles (me too tho) hehe. and omg when sunwoo offers to take the reader home instead of being on the ‘date’ with the girl he likes ahhhh *screams* the foreshadowing!! i loved how you can feel the feelings slowly develop from both parties (but they just don't quite realize it yet) and then the reader meets his mom aww, he really is so soft. and then when he realizes on the date, that you were the one he couldn't stop thinking about, i canttt, this was so good. i kinda resent the girl too for leading him on but ughhh what can i do... also! the pace at this story progressed was perfect and you write so elegantly!! the way you write is just my taste for fics in a way (fluffy but you feel the heartache at times; minimal angst that gets resolved at the end) ahh, but seriously i loved it so much!! i actually stayed up late to read this bc i had to know what happened in the end so i was too tired to leave a review then but i'm leaving it now hehe. i loved it a lot ahh, i don't even read any fics besides nct but since you're the author, i'm finding myself reading svt and the boyz fics haha. also i'm still curious... you had me thinking the reader's ex dated sunwoo's sister lol. i need to know, so you better respond to this, i need to know to sleep tonight grrr!! but anyways it's been a day and i'm still thinking about sunwoo haha (also about ceo wonwoo, if we're being honest here haha) until then, i'll be waiting for a jaemin full fic from you, this is a disgrace. (jk, ily, i just want more jaemin fics lol) <3 also i love how clever your ask box name is "ask mie" haha

oh my god lisa you don’t understand how much this means to me.

the fact that you don’t even stab tbz and still read one of my works for them just makes me wanna cry 😩 😖😖

i wrote the story not expecting people to care or pick up on all the small details i randomly added in but everything you noticed and said just makes me alsjksndksksmss aaaaa -im so sorry im just a jumble rn trying to process all the kind and amazing things you said-

and yes hehe you even noticed the sneaky interaction with sunwoo’s sister >< jendjdjd it’s really stupid but i answered it here (which is more in depth but not really) n e ways basically,,, sunwoo’s sister secretly dances and goes to the same dance place as the reader !

YA OH OEJDJDJ IK i don’t even have an actual fic for my ult 🤧🤧 i am a disgrace but i swear i just get too distracted with trying to get other works out first while also balancing the amount of fics i release for all the different groups i chose to write for EXCEPT *cough cough* i‘ve been writing a love triangle fic for a while and got sidetracked bc of school- but now i have time to finish it and release it super soon! ^^

(yes its jaemin x reader x **** and i got stopped right near the end at like 8k kendkdndn)

i also have a bunch more wips for nana trust me but im slowly getting the time to get to all do them (i promise there’s a lot and ill release them soon hopefully >:) )

ANYWAYS I APOLOGIZE FOR THE RANT

just know i will be thinking about this message and how kind you are for a longass time (thats a longass ride~)

i just can’t express how grateful i am for you and for writing this to me i just- 🥺🥺

thank you so much and i love you ❤️

[liannyeong]

promises are meant to be broken

Summary: "promise?" she asks, her fingers wrapped around the crystal.

jaebum's eyes flick down to her hand. he reaches out and presses his index finger and thumb on hers. "promise."

(or a mafia au in which jaebum breaks his promise and the events that happen afterwards)

Word count: 3198

Pairing: Jaebum X OC

Warning(s): a little bit of angst or tension ^^, lapslock

A/N: here’s a new fic after 2 months... hopefully all of you enjoy this, because it was written on a whim... i’ve been trying to write more since ideas keep coming but i keep getting distracted and so, none of my WIPs are finished lol send help

i.

when she wakes, she finds her limbs tied to the chair, her mouth gagged with a cloth. there's no way she can escape. there's no way anyone from the family can even find her.

"he won't come for me," she spits at her captor. "you think he cares?"

even so, her heart races, blood pounding in her ears. what if jaebum really doesn't come? what if he doesn't care? god, she knew him since they were children. there's no way he would turn his back on his longtime friend... right?

her captors have no mercy. they torture her endlessly, but she bears it all. they want jaebum's secrets, but there's no way she would give it to them. they plunge the blade into her thighs, demanding answers. she lets her tears and blood spill endlessly, but never her words. she will never betray jaebum.

gunshots in the distance break their aggressive interrogation. she lets out a cry of relief, thankful when the yells of men are heard. and she's even more grateful when jaebum barges into the room, eyebrows furrowed, face red in anger. he strides over to her and breaks her free.

she can barely stand on her own, what with her bleeding thighs. so jaebum carries her on his back.

"i thought you wouldn't come," she says faintly.

"i won't leave you behind," jaebum replies between his pants.

it feels nice, to be carried like this. to have a person like this. she smiles, nuzzling closer to his neck. her worries from earlier are nothing but plain worries. jaebum would never break his promise.

"hey, hang in there. keep talking to me," jaebum says.

"feels nice," she murmurs.

"what does?"

"you. carrying me like this. it feels nice."

her eyes start to get heavy, the fatigue slowly creeping in. how long has it been since she last rested properly? even if it's not the most comfortable position, jaebum's broad back provides the warmth she has long craved for. so she wraps her arms around his shoulder, burying her face into the junction between his neck and shoulder.

"jaebum-ah, i'm sleepy..."

"hey, don't go silent on me-- keep talkin--" but she can barely hear him anymore.

---

ii.

jaebum doesn't visit her at the hospital. He doesn't pop by at all. instead, all she ever hears from him is through her fellow members. it isn't uncommon for the don toe be busy, but it is unusual that he is too busy to even visit her. when she had minor bruises and injuries, jaebum would come barging into the room as if there were news of death. something is off, she feels it. but she doesn't question. perhaps jaebum is really occupied with work.

she discards her thoughts and focuses on recovery. she trains hard, doing her best to gain back her strength and control. it isn't easy with her injuries but she manages. her agility is reduced but she doesn't rest. jaebum still hasn't approached her even after she was discharged and considered fit for work. jaebum doesn't summon her to his office either. so she practices harder. after all, she only wishes to meet jaebum when she's fully prepared for her duty.

when jaebum finally calls her into his office, she keeps her chin up. confident to prove her worth again. jaebum has his back turned on her, his hands clasped behind his back as he looks out of the window through the blinds.

"i don't need you anymore," he starts.

she freezes. no way. there's no way she heard that right--

"you're done here," jaebum states plainly.

"jaebum, you don't mean--"

the don turns, his eyes are unrelenting when it meets hers. "i mean: you're fired," he spells out.

no. there's no way-- she couldn't bear the swell in her chest, the lump in her throat at the implications of his words.

"why?" her voice comes out soft, timid.

jaebum's stare doesn't soften. his expression is taut, tensed like a taut string on the verge of snapping.

"what is the use of a crippled member to me?" the don shoots back.

those words stung. but it doesn't hurt as much as the reply he gives later.

"you don't need me at all? even though i know you the best?"

jaebum deadpans. no hint of recollection or whatsoever. "what does that got to do with anything?"

it strikes her then. jaebum has forgotten his promise. if not, he has been nothing but a liar for all the time she has known him.

she swallows the lump in her throat, along with her sorrow and disappointment. she reaches for the crystal around her neck. she hesitates, but the emotions in her drives her to pull it off. she doesn't care about the bruise that will bloom later, nor does she care about the broken chain. she collects them into the palm of her hand, and caresses it for the last time before placing it on the don's table. she doesn't look up to see jaebum's reaction. she takes a step back and bows politely. she tries to maintain a stable voice as she says, "as you wish, mr im."

she stands straight, can no longer bear to look at her friend before leaving the office.

---

iii.

it's the day jaebum gets appointed as the new don of the im family. she stays close, keeps an eye for him. her parents were invited to the party, but she kindly requested that jaebum keep them out of the mafia business. a few hours into the event, she watches the new don heading to the balcony of the mansion. through the massive crowd, jaebum manages to find her and look at her directly in the eyes. he beckons her over.

"i have a gift for you," jaebum says when she comes close. the wind that blows across their faces is cooling to the warmth on her cheeks. he pulls out an object from his pocket, presents it to her.

she gasps. "what--"

sitting on his palm is a crystal encased in silver-plated rods, a silver chain attached to it. she picks it up and examines it. it's beautiful to her eyes that she's mesmerized by it.

"i doubt you'll wear it but i had it crafted for you," jaebum comments.

"why then?" she asks.

jaebum shrugs. "i didn't know a better birthday gift."

she laughs. "maybe a weapon? that would be very useful, you know. especially for my job."

jaebum seems to think about it. but then he shakes his head, "it's too risky for you. you'd probably do whatever it takes to get the weapon back should our enemies snatch them."

she just smiles. "you know me too well."

she glances down at her new accessory, then flicks her eyes back at her friend. she holds it out to him, cheeks warming up from her own request. "can you put this on for me?"

jaebum doesn't refuse. he takes the jewellery willingly. she turns around, letting the male's arms go over her head. she feels the cool metal chain on her neck, the crystal resting on her chest.

she faces jaebum once more, fingers fiddling with the new object around her neck. she must have been wearing a certain kind of expression for the don asks, "what's wrong?"

she lets out a breath. "will you keep me by your side forever?"

jaebum looks at her, amused. "of course."

she keeps her eyes trained on the crystal of her necklace. "even when i can no longer serve you as your right-hand woman?"

jaebum doesn't laugh. it takes him a while to respond, that she nearly thought he didn't hear her question. but when she looks up, he already has his gaze on her, watching the way she fiddles with the new accessory. he shows her the softest smile, the warmest eyes when he says, "always. even if you're no longer able, i will always have you next to me. because you know me the best."

"promise?" she asks, her fingers wrapped around the crystal.

jaebum's eyes flick down to her hand. he reaches out and presses his index finger and thumb on hers. "promise."

---

iv.

it's been three whole years since she left jaebum's side. she goes to her hometown, at the outskirts of the city that jaebum controls. from time to time, she hears news of him but it's always something grueling. recently, there has been news of the don being in danger. still, she hopes jaebum would be safe somewhere. even if she doesn't know the new jaebum, she's certain that her jaebum is in there somewhere. subconsciously, her fingers go to her neck, searching for that familiar crystal. it's a habit she has adopted throughout the years of wearing the jewellery. even though she returned it, she still can't fix the habit.

"noona! it's your turn to take out the trash!" yugyeom shouts from the kitchen.

she obliges, coming out of the laundry room from where she was folding clothes. she drags the trash bag out of the kitchen, through the backdoor and into the bin. she hears a soft rustling and she stays alert. an intruder? a robber? or could it be that someone found her linked to jaebum? she grabs yugyeom's baseball bat left abandoned against the wall and sneaks closer to the source of the sound.

she prepares herself, raises the bat when she pushes the leaves aside. but she finds jaebum, leaning against the brick wall, covered by the shadows of the trees and the piling wood. immediately, she drops the bat to the ground and moves swiftly to tend to the male, bringing him into the house.

"gyeom-ah, help--"

the boy cries out in horror but lends a helping hand. they bring him to the guest room, and yugyeom doesn't object when told to take care of the man. the boy has seen enough injuries on his sister's body to know what to do.

"has he waken yet?" she asks when yugyeom exits the room. the boy shakes his head. "i'll stay with him. go and rest."

she quietly enters the room. it's a mismatch. how can a don like jaebum sleep on a cheap bed of their guestroom? nevertheless, he sleeps soundly and peacefully as if it's the most comfortable bed. she takes a seat next to the bed. she brushes his hair aside, a little too long, a little unkempt from what she remembers. why, she wonders, did jaebum come to this house? perhaps all questions will be answered when he wakes.

---

v.

when she wakes jaebum holds the tip of her hair. she has fallen asleep by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up. alarmed, she sits up straight, and jaebum just lets her hair slip through his fingers.

"you grew it out," jaebum comments. he's definitely stronger than the night before, his skin fuller in color.

"i always thought you didn't like long hair," he says again, eyes warm and soft on her.

"it's a hassle on the field," she replies. "easy for our enemies to grab me too."

jaebum hums, shifting his attention to his lap instead. if the possessive word she used bothers him, he doesn't speak about it.

"you stayed," he comments.

"why did you come here?" she asks, ignoring him.

"i had nowhere to go."

"what happened?"

jaebum sighs, sadness evident in his eyes. he pours everything out: "there was an uproar. the wang family waged war on us. it was well-planned that i--" jaebum pauses, eyes downcast. she reaches out, placing her hand atop of his, hoping it would bring comfort. "i let everyone down. i didn't protect the family."

"it's not your fault. you didn't know," she tries.

"but i'm the head of the family! i-- it's my job to protect them--"

impulsively, she surges forward, climbing onto the bed. she kneels next to jaebum and  throws her arms around the male, pressing his head close to her body. "it's not your fault, jaebum-ah. don't blame yourself for the inevitable."

jaebum must have been comforted by those words for he relaxes in her hold. she feels his hands creeping up the back of her shirt, feels him nuzzling into her. then she hears the sharp intake of breath, followed by a slow shaky exhale. she shifts her position so that she rests comfortably on the bed; jaebum adjusts accordingly. she runs her hand through his hair in slow but constant tempo.

in this moment, it feels like nothing has changed. as if the three years didn't exist.

---

vi.

she wakes to the sound of water in the bathroom. she's all alone in the bed, flustered at the realization that she had shared the same bed as jaebum. she jumps out of bed, grabs some of her late father's clothes from another room. she comes back to the guestroom, knocking before pushing the door open.

"i brought some clothes to change into--"

jaebum stands by the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist. flustered at the sight of his half-naked body, she looks away. but there is a glimmer on his chest that she can't avoid. she glances at it and realization hits her.

her crystal necklace that she pulled off hangs around his neck, pressed against his skin. the silver chain is gone, replaced by a black cord instead. her feet takes her closer, until all it needs is a stretch of her hand to touch the object. jaebum doesn't budge, doesn't flinch; he just lets her.

"i've been wearing it since the day i fired you," he says softly, almost like a whisper.

"why--"

"it's the only thing that reminds me of you."

she frowns. "then why didn't you let me stay--"

"and what? see you die? see you hurt? i couldn't bear it. you were on the brink of death! how do you think i felt? i was so scared-- i thought i would lose you..." his face crumples in sadness. he lets out a deep exhale. "i lied. i remembered our promise when you mentioned it that day. but i had to. i had to pretend--"

she retracts her hand swiftly, in anger. "and betray me instead? you broke your promise and you're justifying it?" she shakes her head, backing away from the male. her disappointment in him only increases. she pauses at the door, face slightly turned to say, "even if my life is at risk, i rather fight with you than let you do it all alone."

---

vii.

the fifth day when jaebum stays at her place, he learns new things. her parents died a year after she left the mafia service, leaving her to take care of yugyeom, her ten-year-old brother. she becomes a farmer; spends most of her time on the farm for sustenance. additionally, jaebum learns that there's a potential suitor on her tail. the man -- named jinyoung -- is charming, jaebum must admit. he has a deep voice that is soothing to the ears. his body is lean and fit; suitable for farming. he's good with kids too, with the way yugyeom is all smiles and laughter as they play around on the field.

jaebum watches them from the ranch. out of earshot, he asks, "do you like him?" it comes out a little timidly. funny, he has always been brave, cruel and daring in his orders as a don. to sound so small and weak makes him feel incompetent.

she hums. "he's a nice guy. he doesn't judge me for my past."

"do you like him?" he presses, turning his head to look at his friend.

she meets his eyes. "as a friend, yes."

"you don't--  you don't like him more than that?"

she pauses, stares at him. she holds her gaze steady, never faltering. there's something about it that takes his breath away. yet, it makes him quiver. what has the mafia don become?

she lets out a flat "no."

"why?"

she moves, averts her eyes as she answers, "i gave my heart away."

"to who?" jaebum dares himself to ask.

she stops at the steps of the ranch. she turns a little, just enough for their eyes to meet. there's sorrow in her eyes. but the reply she gives has his heart torn into pieces.

"to someone who doesn't need me."

---

viii.

the seventh day is the last day jaebum stays. he's much stronger than the first night she found him at the backyard. she hears the familiar creaking of the front door at the wee hours of morning. she rises up from her bed, looks through the folds of curtain in her room. jaebum is already crossing the grassy field. she draws the curtains apart, slides the window open and climbs out of her room, quick and quiet. she runs after the male barefooted, the morning dew makes it uncomfortable but she bears it no mind.

"stay," she pants when she catches up to the male.

jaebum looks at her sadly. the decision to leave must have pained him.

"i can't," he says weakly. "i shouldn't--"

"my skills are rusty, but i can help you--"

jaebum shakes his head. "yugyeom needs you more than i do."

words die on her tongue. she has no way to argue. no matter how much she desires to follow jaebum, to stay by his side, the circumstances are different now. there's no way she can make a decision selfishly. she has to consider her responsibility for her younger brother.

she resigns. but she takes a step forward, reaching out for his face. her fingertips touch his cheek, and she sees jaebum slightly flinching. she almost retracts her hand but he mimics her action, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

"where will you go?" her voice is so soft when she asks, almost like a whisper.

jaebum shrugs, smiling weakly as he drags a thumb across her skin. he drops his hand afterwards, stuffing into the pocket of his jacket. "i'll figure it out soon."

she nods. jaebum makes a move, but she stops him by grabbing his elbow. before the man can even react, she places the other hand on his shoulder and then tiptoes. she presses a light kiss onto the corner of his mouth.

"be safe, jaebum-ah," she says after pulling away. she lets their eyes meet, drinking in the sight of jaebum's expression. a mixture of surprise and longing. she smiles weakly. "you're always welcomed here."

she proceeds to take a step back, but jaebum winds an arm around her waist, trapping her. then he cups her face with a hand, gazes into her eyes so softly. he leans forward, eyes closing, as he presses his lips to her forehead. but it's all too fast for her to revel in, for jaebum pulls away after a second, taking all the warmth away. she watches his retreating figure. not once did he look back. it's as if he has already let go of everything. but perhaps this is for the best. if they had given themselves to the temptation, to their hearts, nothing would have worked out.

she could only hope that jaebum will come home, safe and sound. 

[sillydodobird]

You set my world on fire

He’s definitely still shaking, adrenaline running through him when they eventually separate. The world comes rushing back to him, the sound of birds chirping and the sound of the wind blowing suddenly seem so loud. When he finally opens his eyes he’s surprised how flushed she is, not expecting her to be as affected by this as he was. Her lips are parted and her eyelashes are fluttering. For a fleeting moment, he wonders how he looks. 

- Clonath, first kiss, making out, arguements (Because would it be chloe and nat if they didnt argue?) 

-tbh im not sure what the hell this is, but it’s here! Used a bit of my other random WIP I had posted a while ago

 One of her hands is on his neck and the other is in his hair. He’s trying to keep himself from shaking, one of his hands on her cheek and the other holding her waist closer to him.

Her body is flushed against him, she’s very warm and soft. She smells so good, he’s unsure how she can still smell so amazing when they’ve been out in the hot and humid air.

He feels her tongue touch his bottom lip and he jumps back just a bit. She tastes like the peach lip gloss she uses and he’s cannot think clearly anymore, not when he’s distracted by what she is doing to him. He doesn’t care enough to try to think clearly right now, not when other things are more important, like the soft sounds she’s making.

His hand moves down between her neck and jaw. He’s afraid to move too fast, she is 100 percent in control of this. One of her hands comes to grab onto his and she moves it so their fingers interlock and he smiles into the kiss.

She breaks away for a quick moment, breath hot against his mouth. “Is this okay?” She asks in a much softer voice than he would have expected.

Not trusting himself to speak he nods his head and quickly dives back to kissing her. He’s not even worried he’s coming off needy or desperate, he just wants to feel her skin against his, to make her feel how she makes him feel. He’s kissed girls before but kissing her is exhilarating.

He hopes she is feeling what he is feeling. He needs to know he’s not the only one affected. He cannot remember the last time he felt this euphoric. Maybe it’s how soft her lips are, or how she seems to switch from rough to tender. Maybe its how her hands grip onto him as if she’s afraid to let go.

He’s definitely still shaking, adrenaline running through him when they eventually separate. The world comes rushing back to him, the sound of birds chirping and the sound of the wind blowing suddenly seem so loud. When he finally opens his eyes he’s surprised how flushed she is, not expecting her to be as affected by this as he was. Her lips are parted and her eyelashes are fluttering. For a fleeting moment, he wonders how he looks.

They don’t speak for a while. One of her hands is still holding his, the other clutching the front of his shirt. He finds himself unable to let go of her, the idea of no longer being this close to her feels wrong.

“I’m sorry.”

His world stops for the second time that day. Why is she apologizing? Did she hate it? Did she hate him?

He opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, It won’t happen again.” She’s speaking very soft. If he wasn’t inches away from her he doesn't think he would be able to hear her.

His heart stops and he feels cold and confused. He’s struggling to breathe and he’s not sure if it's because of her words or her kiss.

He finally finds his voice when she starts to pull away from him. His hands automatically tighten on her, as if it is instinctual for him to keep her from leaving.

“I..uh...I don’t uh…” he’s stuttering and he’s not sure he’s ever been more nervous. “what...what do you mean?”

Her head tits up towards him, he can see her eyes and is shocked to see her glaring at him.

“Weren't you listening? I said I was sorry. You don’t have to worry about it happening again!” Her voice is harsh and very different than it was a moment ago.

He’s never been more confused in his life. They had the most mindblowing kiss ever and now she’s angry at him?

“You’re sorry?” She’s still trying to move away from him and he can feel his heart tremble with every push.

“Of course I’m sorry! I practically attacked you!”

He keeps growing more and more confused and frustrated. He doesn’t know why she’s yelling at him, didn't she feel the same way? Didn't she understand he can’t go back to just being friends?

“So you’re just going to ignore it? Forget it happened and move on as if nothing happened?” He realizes he is raising his voice but he cannot help it, he’s panicking and he feels like he’s trying to outrun an imaginary clock.

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I?” Her voice is also raised and firm. He's too dumbfounded to understand the sudden turn of events.

“Are you kidding me?!” He rips himself away from her, creating more distance between them because he’s afraid she might actually kick or slap him for yelling at her.

He is close to pulling out his hair, he knows she’s incredibly stubborn but he can't grasp how they managed to end up here.

“Why are you so afraid of this? You obviously like me and I’m beside myself with how much I adore you. Why can’t we do something about it?!” He’s not proud of how his voice cracks but he’s gone through so many emotions within the last 30 minutes that he’s can’t be bothered by it at the moment.

“Because I’m afraid of what will happen if it doesn't work!”

If he wasn’t so frustrated at the moment, maybe he would have realized that it was a legitimate fear to have. He’s never felt this way for someone else before, he’s positive he will never feel this way for anyone else ever. She makes him feel invincible and vulnerable at the same time and he is head over heels in love with her.

“So you’re not even willing to try?” He says after a moment.

She closes her eyes and sighs like she’s trying to explain something to a whiny child. He should be offended but he doesn't feel anything other than sadness.

“Do you really want to try and then find out we shouldn’t have?”

“I don’t want to not try and spend the rest of my life wondering.” His voice coming out soft and he feels so nervous. Like he’s in a life or death situation, in a way he guesses he is.

She doesn’t look at him. She’s staring at the dark sky above, looking at the night sky and at any other time, he would have joined her.

“I don’t want to ruin this.” Her voice is soft again, no longer bitter. Her arms are crossed, defensive and alert.

He sniffs and he suddenly realizes he’s crying, which makes him even more embarrassed and frustrated. He’s putting himself out there and he feels like he’s getting absolutely nowhere. Maybe he should stop bothering her. They will never be the same again but at least he got to have some time with her.

“It doesn’t matter, we can’t go back to the way we were before.” His voice is firm and he’s proud of himself for not breaking down, even if that’s all he want’s to do.

He hears her sharp intake of breath. His head is starting to hurt and all he want’s to do is go home. He’s not sure how much more he can handle. He wipes the tears off his cheek.

She lets out a shaky exhale before speaking. “Can you promise me something?”

He would promise the world to her if it meant getting one more second with her.

“Anything.”

“If we try this,” His breath hitches, he can’t breathe. “Can you please promise me that if it doesn’t work that you won’t hate me? I don’t think I could ever deal with tha-.”

His lips are back on her before she can finish her sentence. He pulls away, centimeters from her, her breath mingling with his.

“I could never hate you. You could take everything away from me and I would still grovel at your feet, desperate for more of you.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, he’s back to kissing her. His lips pressed hard against her, as if he could make her understand by his lips alone. He doesn’t want to waste any more time. One of his hands is holding tight on her waist, the other gently holding her face. He bites her bottom lip and she makes the most euphoric noise. He could spend eternity kissing her. Hell, he wants to spend eternity kissing her.

She pulls away and he reflexively tightens his grip on her. He opens his eyes to find her eyes are closed. But her lips are turned into a smile, “And you say I’m dramatic.”

He breathes out a laugh, “I’m only dramatic for you, Bee.”

Her hand finds his, their fingers intertwine like they were made for each other. Her eyes open and he finds small tears pooling in her eyes. He moves to kiss them away before they can fall down her cheek.

“I love you.” She whispers it and he can’t help but the relieved sigh that escapes him.

“I’ve been hopelessly in love with you for years.” His head falls to the space between her neck and shoulder, content just to spend time underneath the stars with her.

[jclie]

— && guests may mistake me as ( elizabeth olsen ), but really i am ( jolie madison + cis female + she/her ) and my DOB is ( 7/29/1992 ). i am a ( musician ) and would like to stay in suite ( 314 ). i won’t be much of a bother because i am ( driven, audacious, & charismatic ), but i can also be ( perfectionistic, reticent & self-sabotaging ) at times. personally, i like to ( paint, hike, try new recipes & sing karaoke ) when i have the time to relax, and my favorite snack is ( chai sugar cookies ) to have in my suite.

hi everyone! i’m red, and the only excuse i have for this dropping so late is that Work Sucks and has held me up, but i am here and ready to love u all! rlly, what better to do with the remaining bits of summer ( and being awake, tbh ) than join this super cute group and put my intro post together? so yes, here is the 411 on jolie, with a more *~cohesive~* bio and stats page on their way — i am so excited to get to know all of your muses and begin interacting! i promise i do not bite so if you’re feeling brave, pop over in the ims, or, just wait me out, because i’m sure i’ll be appearing in them soon enough :~)

general info

full name: jolie drew madison

nicknames: j, jo, jojo (calling her this is a bit of a death sentence unless you have explicit permission), mads

date of birth: july twenty-ninth, 1992 (27)

zodiac: leo

sexual orientation: bisexual

birthplace: chicago, illinois

occupation: musician

hogwarts house: slytherin

mbti: enfj

suite #: 314

tw: drug use

past

born on a wednesday in chicago, illinois to a set of parents who had a very “informal” relationship to say the least — to make a complicated situation as cut and dry as possible, jolie’s parents were best friends with benefits. her mom wound up pregnant and decided to keep the baby. instead of jumping to some rash decision like getting married solely for the sake of their child, they decided to simply remain friends and split custody in the best way they knew how that didn’t require a mediator in the form of a family court judge. her parents remained close friends (and still are) once jolie was born; custody was weirdly split with jolie spending the majority of her time with her mom. they were an unconventional sort of family but a family nonetheless. dad does something with numbers (yes, think chandler bing), and mom is a local business owner.

as a kid, jolie never knew a stranger, and therefore had no trouble making friends once she hit school age. she was the kid who never found her niche group or “clique” because her feet were wet in several of them. school was not a miserable time for her. she had her friends, was a solid a/b student. jolie was a big perfectionist though, it not uncommon for her to beat herself up over something incredibly minute and self-sabotaging herself as punishment or because she didn’t know how to adequately process her feelings of anxiousness — she’d procrastinate, cut people off or drive them away, things of that nature.

music was always in her life, but it was a very casual thing in her world, situated on a backburner. it was something that she was able to bond over with her dad more so than her mom; her dad was a massive music junkie, loved sharing his favorite songs with her, bought her her first vinyl player when she was twelve and supplied her with every album under the sun, whether it was one she wanted or one of his favorites or just one he thought she might enjoy. she was in dance classes as a preschooler (this was an epic fail, because not even her rhythm could save her from the generally awkward disaster she is whenever she dances) and took piano lessons in elementary school, but she didn’t love either? she felt very restricted when it came to formal lessons, and almost needed the freedom to explore and learn it on her own terms — she ended up teaching herself guitar on her dad’s guitar on the weekends she spent at his place. there was also the 6 month stint her junior year of high school when she and some friends started a garage band (which jolie represses to a certain degree because the embarrassment it invokes is on another level) but it was mostly just an idea formulated from boredom and was something to pass the time, nothing really serious. 

jolie found herself at a bit of a crossroads after her graduation. most of her friends were off to college but college did not seem like the kind of environment for her. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with herself or her life, but she knew she had to do something. so she pretty much copied and pasted what one of her close friends was doing at the time, decided to go to northwestern and share an apartment with her and pray that something would speak to her along the way. spoiler alert: nothing did. her first year quickly fizzled and faded for her and most of her time was spent going to parties, embracing the social scene, the like. nothing of real educational value.  

she was still fucking around when it came to music; she’d met some people in one of her creative writing classes (the only class that she legitimately finished and enjoyed) and would go to open mic nights or other gigs around town. never meeting a stranger meant jolie was good at networking, making friends with other musicians — the more she spent time immersed in the world, the more she felt compelled towards music. she began writing songs that weren’t just the product of teenage angst (see: that awful high school band), even took a few music classes at northwestern. 

by the time she hit her junior year, she was over classes and was pretty much only taking filler classes still, wasting her money while she bar tended at one of the bars close by. but she’d never felt more creatively charged; she was putting her nose to the grindstone in writing songs, recording songs in her bedroom so she wouldn’t wake up her roommates, playing gigs on her nights off work literally anywhere that would take her, and using those new-er friendships to her advantage. she had gained some local traction but things really didn’t explode until she started posting original songs online and got contacted by a few record labels. jolie was hesitant to sign with anyone but she got one of her friends in pre-law to help her look over contracts and pretend to be her manager and eventually signed. subsequently, she dropped out of college and went to work on the music thing full time.

from 21-23, jolie was pretty much doing nothing but playing festivals and clocking in hours at studios. most of her time was spent on the road and she absolutely loved it  — she loved the music festival atmosphere, loved the crowds, loved meeting other bands and fans. she was pretty much touring on the few songs she had released, covers, and unreleased tracks from a wip, but it worked for her and it worked for the fans. she released her first album, ultraviolet on her 23rd birthday, and hit the road again. 

jolie missed her “college” life with the parties and socialization at her fingertips, so she started elbowing her way into that scene while she was on tour — at first, it wasn’t anything to bat an eye at, but jolie’s limits were very fluid. being on tour was draining and the perfectionist in her would always find something to berate herself about, and getting out of her head was the only way that she felt she could truly enjoy the whirlwind success that was happening to her. the drugs started as a one-time thing, just to try it, and then she was using regularly, and then it got to a point where she couldn’t go more than an hour without a line of coke. the drugs stripped away a lot of what made her jolie and left her with a more miserable, grouchier version of herself where her highs were almost normal and likable and the lows were hell to be around. 

she came off of ultraviolet’s tour and essentially jumped right back into the studio (she was beginning to break through in mainstream music, with her last promotional single off ultraviolet hitting mainstream radio and doing fairly well) for album #2. it was finished and ready to go, but by that point, the drug use had gotten to an all-time high and the constant turning a blind eye to it from her team was no longer possible. she ended up od’ing and that was it  — there was an intervention in the hospital room, and it was off to rehab for jolie. album got postponed and she basically fell off the radar.

she didn’t really make a “comeback” until she was knocking on 26′s doorstep, and by that point she’d been in rehab, getting sober, and then laying low for nearly two years. by the time she was releasing her first single for the new album cycle, she’d all but scrapped the record she’d made before rehab and had something else put together entirely. she released wonderland, which did very, very well. she toured for it and it was wildly different than anything she’d done prior — venues were bigger, more fans, just a whole different circus all around. 

probably the one thing she was more proud of than the music was her sobriety, and going on two years of being sober, not much else was important to her. she knew had a pretty black and white view of was good for her and what wasn’t, so after the tour wrapped, she decided to come home. she never pegged herself for the type to get “homesick” because her spirit was very much the wandering type, but she knew she needed to get out of la and nyc. back to chicago it was — which is how we get to the malnati. 

present

she’s in what she’d aptly describe as “professional limbo” — she’s not actively working on any one project, she’s just kind of floating until she can find something to tether herself to, whether it’s a single song or an album or something else that appears on her radar. she’s just taking things easy for the time being.

career wise, think marina, l*na —  more of a cult favorite than a mainstream artist. not going to get mobbed when she goes out and about, able to fly under the radar for the most part. as far as her music goes, i don’t necessarily know if i’ll claim any one artist’s discography and adopt as her own; in my head, jolie’s alt pop. think somewhere along the lines of hayley williams, st. vincent, tove lo, splash of the 1975.

personality wise at this point in her life: will charm the pants off of just about anyone she comes into contact with. flirty. a little goofy, hella sarcastic. there’s method to her madness even if no one else gets it. is still a little guarded when it comes to talking about herself. doesn’t mind talking about what’s happened to her but when it comes to the feelings and emotions as to why those things happened, she shuts down. it’s why she’s a musician: why talk about your feelings when you could just write them into a song and pretend they don’t exist beyond that, lmao. is the passive aggressive type, bottles things up and simmers. 

being in the kitchen and cooking has been a tactile sort of therapy for her, especially in her hiatus years. she loves trying new recipes, baking at random (all) hours, sometimes likes to pretend she’s on an episode of master chef. she’s a dork, your honor.

has a thing for polaroids. she has a blank moleskine notebook that she has put through a total ringer, gluing polaroids and other little mementos onto pages as a journal of sorts.

has a stick and poke tattoo (among other professional ones) on her ribcage that she gave herself when she was sixteen. it’s a tiny smiley face. 

her middle name came from her dad’s middle name (andrew).

if you want someone to go out with you at night (or during the day, she’s not picky) and just aimlessly wander around the city, letting things find you, she’s your girl. she loves a good adventure.

i headcanon jolie as predominantly dirty blonde/brunette lizzie? but she is also the type who has ruined her hair over the years over all the impromptu dying so... welcome to close your eyes and pretend hour.

plot ideas

this is by no means a comprehensive list of plots, just stuff off the top of my head that i’d like to see? again, i promise i don’t bite, so pls hmu if one of these appeals to you or if you just wanna brainstorm, i live for that shit!!

jolie’s a chicago native, went to college here, so 👀

meredith to her cristina — basically her best friend (not gender specific, either) who tells it to jolie like it is, doesn’t mind if she laments about how the world sucks every now and again, the person she’s calling if she needs help with a body

physically and/or emotionally, somebody who checks in on jolie and that she checks in on as well. we love a solid support system

exes — jolie’s a little bit (a lot of bit) of a player?? so i’d love to see exes that maybe didn’t end too hot, ex fwb or ex flings that never made it official, people she ghosted, exes that don’t want to get back together but don’t like seeing each other with anyone else, anything under that sun

jolie also is a Lowkey (read: highkey) commitment-phobe, but i’d rlly love for her to maybe have an ex that she was so In Love with that she was willing to push through it bc she saw herself with them forever..... and then, for reasons tbd, it ended, and it absolutely crushed jolie

someone who, on the occasion of needing to scratch an itch, is very good about getting the job done. it’s casual sex. there are zero romantic feelings involved, there is no getting jealous when the other person finds a relationship, the two are just good friends who have seen (and will probably continue to see) each other naked #yeehaw

maybe someone who was at one of jolie’s gigs when she was still playing bars that she bought a drink and kept in touch with or smth? or someone she met when she was still predominately playing small sets at festivals? idk i’m rambling someone stop me

a “muse”??? like, someone jolie is fascinated with / inspired by and she finds herself writing songs about / for

gimme someone who’s like an acquaintance at best, they’ve maybe got mutual friends and therefore they hang out a bit but they’re always arguing with one another for whatever reason (they both probably annoy each other) but they’ve got mad sexual tension going on? maybe they act on it, maybe they don’t, but either way, they lowkey enjoy the bantering and being at one another’s throats even if they act otherwise

jolie is a night owl, so... gimme someone who she can turn up at their room at some unholy hour (or that turns up at her room at said unholy hour) and watch a movie with or make a mess of the kitchen from fixing a premature breakfast

maybe someone who knew jolie when she was not in a good place?? and things are still v much tense / unresolved between them for whatever reason

and stuff for the event omg PLS *makes grabby hands*

[trexrambling]

An Update (or two or three or...more)

Below the cut is an extended version with many more details of the following short summary:

1) I plan to have my current WIP’s (Seeing the Horizon, To The Root, and Refined) finished by January 5, 2020.

2) I am taking requests for drabbles/oneshots from now to January 5, 2020.

3) I have plans to start working on an original novel idea I’ve been unfolding in my brain for the past 10+ years :)

4) I do not have plans to develop any new SPN content after January 5, 2020.

5) I feel tremendously blessed by all of my followers, whether you’ve been with me from day one or just joined the bandwagon recently - thank you for reading my words and encouraging me in them!

________________________

I found Supernatural, Tumblr, and fanfiction at a very dark time in my life. I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember, and this platform and love for a TV series and its characters gave me a safe space to unpack a lot of my thoughts, feelings, and emotions through words while also rekindling a creativity I hadn’t used for a long time. I met amazing people here, including @wheresthekillswitch and @deanssweetheart23, both of whom were in my wedding and both of whom I plan to continue to keep in contact with for many years to come. I felt encouraged, reinforced, and stabilized in the content I was creating as well as fully accepted by a community for the first time in a long time. It was home. You all were home.

I still love Tumblr. I still love doing my daily random scroll and seeing what everyone is up to and what people are working on and the adorable pictures of puppers from the dog blogs I follow. Tumblr is and will continue to be a positive place for me.

I’ve grown a lot in the past few years. I find myself wanting to create more than just fanfiction. I find that I’m not as fully invested in the series I started and haven’t wanted to write anything new in some time. I do, however, want and need to finish what I started, namely the series I listed above. I promise you that I will finish them, and I’ll do my best to make them memorable and well developed endings.

Why January 5th? Well, that’s the last day of Christmas break for me as a teacher, the last time I’ll have a relaxed space to myself until mid April. Really, the last time I’ll have moments to focus fully on writing. So that’s what I’m going to do.

I want to have fun with that time, which is why I would love to take any small requests between now and then :) I may not have any new ideas, but you can definitely give me some to unfold! Please just follow my request guidelines that I linked above (also found on my blog’s main page).

I will always be a writer, and I’ve wanted to write an original novel for quite some time now. I have bits and pieces of it already typed out and a broad overview that’s always taking different forms as the years have progressed. When it comes to a more solid form, I’ll probably link something on my Tumblr to share :)

My Tumblr will not be deleted, and you’ll more than likely see random reblogs of content from time to time. I want my stories to always live here for anyone to read whenever they would like.

Lastly, thank you for following me. Thank you for caring enough to like my stories, leave me comments and asks, and embark in the creative process with me. I’m here if you want to chat through IM or an ask. I’m here if you want to discuss story ideas that you’re working on. I’m here if you just need someone to talk to. I’m not leaving Tumblr; I just won’t be putting out new content after this year. I understand if you choose to unfollow me because of that - zero hard feelings, loves.

If you have a question about any of my above ramblings, please feel free to reach out and ask! Love you, my lovelies! 

[idk-my-aesthetic]

Trapped- lena fic

When Lena was, well not small, as she’d been in a non-aging body most of her existence, but rather new, Magica had cared for her. 

Magica had acted like a real guardian, comforting Lena after failed attempts to escape the shadow realm, and telling her stories of Magica’s own adventures. 

Magica had even said she wanted them to get a home once they were free, and to be a family. Lena had believed her. 

But misinformed people do seem to think the cat toying with its meal is cute, don't they? 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“I don’t understand.” The nameless shadow said, but she had no voice, and no mouth to speak with. It was like she had thought so loud anyone could have heard her. Perhaps everyone did. 

The figure’s, her creator’s, beak twisted, into a smile that she will learn is too bright, too sweet, too kind, and hid things she will wish she had run from right in this moment. 

But now she was small and innocent, only in control of her thoughts for mere minutes, and believed it when the figure said: 

“I’m your Aunt Magica, dear. And you and me are going to do great things together.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=

hey!! this is a wip fic im eventually gonna put on ao3 but i want it all to be one chap so ig were putting the first one here lol. sry if the formatting is bad i rarly post fics to tumblr and i think it got rid of all my bold and italics :( (i put back what i could tho) anyway please please read kjdsklakldfj

TW for child abuse!!!!

She gained consciousness all at once, overwhelmed by everything surrounding her. All of a sudden she could hear, and see, and feel, and it was awful. She wanted to cry, to scream.

It was the first time she had ever wanted anything. 

She had never existed before, never been anything more than a shadow. It felt wrong, like nature itself was rejecting her creation. 

And it hurt. Everything was too bright, too loud, too much. She felt like her body was on fire, pain smothering her from everywhere. Her body was melting, she realized, tearing her gaze from the near frozen battle before her to her own figure. Her form was dissolving, dripping from a vaguely duckling like shape to an amorphous blob, the glow of magic thrumming in her center. 

She looked back to the fight, the birds moving as if swimming in jello, everything slowed. She watched as a figure was sucked towards a coin, anger written on the figure’s face. Something inside her pinged, and she knew. That was her creator. 

She felt some obligation to help, but when she tried to she found she couldn't move, not even twitch the blurry mess of shadows that made up her fingers. What could she have done anyway? She may be sentient, but she was still a shadow, and a deteriorating one at that. 

She watched, caught in a horrified trance as her creator was trapped. It seemed like hours to her, watching the woman be slowly sucked into the dime, but was probably only seconds to them. Her creator never looked at her, never acknowledged that she was brought into existence. 

When the woman had finally disappeared, the shadow realized all her energy was gone. Did she even have any to begin with? She started to fade, confused and scared even as it happened, and sank into the shadow realm. 

~

-=+=-

~

“Would you wake up.” A voice asked, sharp and cold. It was phrased like a question, but was so much more than just a command. It was imbued with magic so strong she couldn't have resisted if she tried. 

(No matter how hard she tried.) 

She had no eyes to open, but sight came to her suddenly. There was a figure standing before her, one she could vaguely recognise, despite the glowing red eyes and inky body. She realized she had a consciousness, her consciousness. It wasn’t like when she first gained a mind, going from nothing to everything. It was like she’d had  thoughts of her own since her creation, but lost them when she dissolved, and only regained them at her creator’s command.  

“I don’t understand.” The nameless shadow said, but she had no voice, and no mouth to speak with. It was like she had thought so loud anyone could have heard her. Perhaps everyone did. 

The figure’s, her creator’s, beak twisted, into a smile that she will learn is too bright, too sweet, too kind, and hid things she will wish she had run from right in this moment. 

But now she was small and innocent, only in control of her thoughts for mere minutes, and believed it when the figure said: 

“I’m your Aunt Magica, dear. And you and me are going to do great things together.” 

-=+=-

Aunt Magica told her things, weaved her stories of the overworld, a place she said they both belong. Magica told her the story of a wretched man who trapped them here, and of his jealousy of Magica’s power. Magica said she created her, and that they were going to find their way back to the overworld together, and that they’d be a family. 

“What do you mean, a family?” She asked, her newly created beak malformed from lack of practice. 

“Well, we would live in a nice little house, just the two of us. And we would cook meals there and go out on adventures. Maybe I’d even teach you some magic.” Magica had said, her voice pitched higher than normal, more controlled and precise, not that the shadow could tell. Magica’s grin sharpened, turning to her. “Would you like that?” 

The shadow nodded, smiling earnestly. Or, as ernastly as she could, with her half formed figure. 

“Then finish making yourself a body, alright.” Magica said, patting her on the head. “It’s only the first step in breaking us free.”

The shadow nodded, determined to make her aunt proud. 

~

-=+=-

~

“Lena.”

“Hmp?” Magica blinked at her. 

“I figured I needed a name, so I’d like you to call me Lena.” The shadow smiled shyly, tugging at her fingers. She was getting better at holding a form everyday, and she was slowly constructing a distinct body for herself, something she would always transform into rather than the random and different shapes she took each day. Once she had a stable and practiced form, they'd try to break out to the overworld. 

Magica barked out a laugh, quickly smothering herself. Lena took a step back, her face morphing into an expression of shocked hurt and confusion. 

“Oh it’s not you, something else.” Magica said, cooly covering her outburst. 

“O-oh. I just-, nevermind.” Lena looked to the side, her eyebrows knit together and beak pressed tightly shut. She wasn't trying to upset you. It wasn't even about you, you’re being ridiculous. She cares about you. Just ignore it. 

“Alright then, Lena.” Magica cooed, patting the shadow’s head, once again the picture perfect aunt. Lena nodded, forcing a smile on her face. 

~

-=+=-

~

Lena fought with everything inside her, trying to crawl her way to the light. The shadow realm pulled back on her, wrapping itself around her in an almost comforting embrace. 

She wanted to give into it. The light of the overworld burned, made her sob pure magic and heave phantom breaths of air she didn’t need.  

She’d tried dozens of times before, tried to break her way out of the shadow realm. But every time she was sent back. 

The light of the surface was too strong, it burnt her away, melting her back into nothing, until her only option was to retreat back to the little place she carved out for herself and let her consciousness be lost to the realm.

She would stay like that, something like what one may have called asleep, until the amulet that made her core generated enough magic to pull her consciousness back again.  

But. She was almost there, almost out, inches from freedom. I’m gonna make it. She told herself, repeating it like a prayer. As if she could simply believe it into existence. 

And yet, it was still too far. Her magic was running low, and it gave out before she could make it out. She faded back into the shadow realm, fated to try again. 

-=+=-

Lena gained conscious blearily, disoriented. She knew this feeling, the amulet restoring her after she had dissolved and become another mindless part of the shadow realm. It was like being born for the first time all over again, no less painful, no matter how many times she experienced it. Her simulated senses picked up everything perfectly, but she forgot how to handle it, how to manage even the diluted sounds, shapes, and smells in the shadow realm. 

“What the hell was that?” Magica asked, easily able to tell when the shadow ‘awoke’, her low and threatening tone making Lena cringe. Magica stood above the forming shadow, crossed arms outlined by painfully saturated red, an image Lena was unfortunately getting used to. 

“I ran out of magic.” Lena looked away, guilt pooling in her core. Swirls of yellow joined the normal pink of her magic core, showing through Lena’s shaky and translucent shape, her form not yet fully recovered. 

“I ran out of magic,” Magica mocked, her voice turning high and nasally. “We both know that's impossible. You’re not trying, that's where the problem is.” Her tone was harsh, cold and cutting. 

“I’m trying as hard as I can, I promise I am.” Lena whispered. Magica ignored her completely, ranting over her. 

“You cannot do this Lena! It took us ages to gather that much magic, who knows what century it will even be by the time we make it out of here! Do you even want to leave?” 

“Of course I do!” Lena cried out. 

“Do not talk over me.” Magica hissed, leaning in closer. “I have done everything for you, and this is how you repay me? I created you from nothing. I generate the magic that keeps you alive, reform you each time you disappear, I’ve taught you everything you know, and you can’t even pull yourself together enough to at least try to escape the shadow realm?” 

“I am trying.” Lena’s voice cracked.

“You say that every time, and yet here we are.” Magica glared at her while Lena floundered, beak opening and closing with no words coming out, not knowing what to say. 

She finally forced herself to speak. “I promise, I’ll try harder, I-” Magica held a finger up, and Lena immediately fell silent, her voice caught in her chest. 

“I don’t want excuses. If you just want to stay here, then fine. I don’t need you.” Lena’s eyes widened, her core burning in her chest, like a flaming hand was grasping at it. 

“I-I don’t want to stay! I want to leave with you, a-and be a family.” Lena replied desperately, terrified of Magica abandoning her. Not just because she would lose all her protection from the other shadows of the realm, but because Magica was the only thing she ever had. 

Lena loved her aunt like a mother, why did Magica think she wanted to stay here? Didn’t she understand how Lena felt about her? 

Didn’t Magica feel the same for her? 

“Okay.” Magica said, her voice neutral. 

Lena nodded shakily, curling up and pulling her knees to her chest, not looking at her aunt. Instead she studied her wispy fingers watching as the shadow knitted itself back into place. Magica studied her from where she stood, the two existing in a silence that dragged on for minutes. 

“You know I only push you because I care.” Magica said, breaking the silence. She didn’t phrase it as a question. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Lena whispered. Magica nodded, moving away to study one of the books she’d stolen from a shade. (Shades were different from other shadows in the realm, impression of animals in the overworld that had passed. Often times they were too nice, and were easily taken advantage of. They often brought items with them from the overworld, some of the few physical things in the shadow realm.) 

Lena curled tighter in on herself. She knew Magica cared, it just… didn’t feel like that sometimes. Especially after a fight. Especially when she didn’t apologize. She never apologizes, a bitter voice reminded her, but she pushed it away. 

She wiped liquid magic off her face, not wanting Magica to see it leaking through her eyes. 

Aunt Magica loved her. They were going to get out together, and everything would be okay. They’d be a family. 

~

-=+=-

~

Almost there. So close-

Let go of me-

It burns it burns make it stop- 

A booming snap sounded, and then light overcame her world.

-=+=-

Lena heaved breaths of air, air holy shit. 

She made it, she was alive. She had a real body. 

She grinned, laughing and falling onto her back. She was in the middle of a field, the light of the overworld for once not burning her away. 

“I can’t believe it…” She mumbled, staring at the night sky. It almost reminded her of the shadow realm, unending darkness contrasted by miniscule points of light. But it was different. The darkness wasn’t all one pure black, it was broken by swirling clouds in different silvers. And the feeling of the grass on her back helped keep her grounded in the real world, not the muted darkness of the shadow realm. 

She threw an arm over her face. Even the dim light of the stars and moon was harsh on her eyes, and she was exhausted. There was a reason it had taken so many tries to escape the shadow realm. 

She didn’t want to sleep, scared she’d awaken back in the little den she and Magica had claimed. It would be just her luck that as soon as she got to the overworld her consciousness would be whisked back, too weak to stay in its unprotected state. But, she had not had a physical form long, and wasn’t yet used to it. She drifted off to the sound of crickets chirping in the distance, and soft grass touching her face. 

Lena laid there for three days, caught in a dreamless sleep. Well, magic-over-exertion-coma was probably a more accurate way to put it, but the prospect of being able to sleep made her giddy. 

When she finally awoke the sun was rising, painting the sky soft pinks and oranges. She grinned at it, smiling so hard she felt her face would split open. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 

All the colors in the shadow realm were harsh, true black offset by bright colors so saturated they seemed to glow. It was the only color to be found in the whole dimension, used to define the shape of structures and bodies of creatures. 

But the soft pastels of the sunset were so different from the little color she was used too. It was warm and inviting, and when she pushed herself up to look at the other colors around her, mint green grass and pale blue flowers, she felt the same warmth bubbling in her chest. 

Lena shuffled her knees under her, still weak and wobbly in her new, unfamiliar, mortal body. She crawled over to a cluster of wild flowers, picking a few and rubbing the petals between her fingers. It was almost difficult to tell how they felt, the feathers not letting her have direct contact, but it was like she could still touch them, their velvety softness still registering to her. 

“Weird.” She breathed a giddy laugh. She started picking more flowers, piling  them in the simple dress Magica had instructed her to form for herself. 

“I see you’re finally awake.” A bitter voice called out, making her jump. 

“Aunt Magica…?” She looked around her, unable to see her aunt.

“Behind you.” Magica hissed. Lena looked over her shoulder, seeing the stretched out form of her aunt. She realized she had been facing directly into the sun, making her aunt appear behind her. She twisted herself around smiling nervously. Shame coiled in her stomach, guilty for upsetting the aunt who had done so much for her. 

“Isn’t it great? We’re finally on the surface.” 

Magica rolled her eyes, arms crossed. “No it isn’t great. Nothing is going to be great until we’ve stolen the dime from Scrooge, taken our revenge, and have my body back. And yet you’re sitting here, playing with flowers like a simpleton.” 

“Sorry.” Lena mumbled, ducking her head and fisting the flowers in her lap. She willed away the burning in her eyes. This is my fault. I shouldn't have gotten so sidetracked. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Get up and start walking.” 

Lena nodded jerkely, taking a deep breath. She shoved the flowers in the pockets of her dress, not yet wanting to let them go. 

Ignoring Magica’s eyeroll and muttered comments, Lena slowly stood, struggling to balance herself. She clutched the sides of her dress, taking a few small steps. 

“Excellent.” Magica cooed. Lena brightened for a split second, then wilted, realizing Magica was mocking her. She ignored Magica’s smirk at her mistake, pulling a flower from her pocket to wrap around her finger. 

“Which way do I go?” She asked, voice small. 

Magica tutted at her. “I was getting to that. Show me the amulet first, I need to be sure you didn’t ruin the one thing vital to both of our existences.” 

Lena fumbled to pull the transmuted amulet out from under the front of her dress. The chain was thick, but the jewel itself was miniscule. Her heart sank. It wasn't supposed to be that small. 

“I, uh… it-” She stuttered, face flaming. 

“Don’t look at me like that, it’ll grow back to its correct size.” Magica waved her off, annoyed. “You’re body is made entirely of magic, once you eat something you can start generating more to replenish the amulet.” Lena’s breath hitched, her chest filling with ice. 

Magica started extending herself off towards the nearest city, expecting Lena to follow. When she was halted, not able to move any farther from the motionless girl, she narrowed her eyes, yelling back at the shadow child. 

“What in Hades name are you doing just standing around?” Lena mumbled something in response, too quiet for Magica to hear. The sorceress huffed, constricting back so the core of her body was once again near her “niece”.

“What?” 

“Am I not real?” The girl asked, hugging herself. She felt real, and she had always thought as soon as they escaped the shadow realm she’d be a whole person. The idea that she still wasn’t real, even after ages of pain and exhaustion spent trying to escape, was crushing. 

Magica dragged a hand down her face in obvious annoyance. Lena felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She should have just shut up, asked at a better time or something. 

“Functionally you have a mortal, physical body, which works almost the same as anyone else’s, except its made of magic energy, not matter. The only real difference is that you can’t age, and you can use your body to generate more magic energy. That work for you?” 

Lena took a shaky breath, then nodded, wiping at her face. 

“Is… is t-there a way to get me a fully mortal body?” She looked at the ground, as far from Magica’s face as she could. 

Magica responded after a moment, her voice easily mistaken as kind and gentle. “Of course dear, we just need to get my body back.”

Lena nodded, and began walking. 

-=+=-

It took Lena a few hours to reach the city. Magica had pointed her in the direction of the nearest road, and then disappeared back to the shadow realm, trying to ration their limited magic.

But Lena was glad for the solitude. Her and Magica where almost always together in the shadow realm, cramped in their small domain. At least she had a chance to be alone for a bit. 

She marveled at the things around her, collecting random rocks and leaves, sticking them in her pockets, and then examining them one at a time as she walked. Magica had educated her about the overworld as much as possible when they were generating magic between escape attempts, but hearing about it and seeing it for real were incredibly different. 

But even as she experienced all these great new things, something weighed her down. Her thoughts turned back to her aunt, and what was going to happen next. 

She’d always thought the second they got to the surface everything would become perfect. Magica was more aggressive recently, losing her temper easier and having less of a filter. Lena knew it was just the stress of lost time, but she’d thought once they got to the surface Magica would be relieved, instead her aunt had yelled at her for passing out.

She felt sick. Its my fault she’s so stressed out all the time anyway. What right do I have to be upset? Aunt Magica’s right, I should have tried harder… 

~

-=+=-

~

Having a mortal body was odd. The first time Lena felt hungry she thought she was dying, which Magica had laughed at so hard she accidentally sent herself back to the shadow realm. 

When she came back, Magica showed Lena where to get herself something to eat. Lena had bought a sandwich with the small amount of money she had taken from Magica’s safe. When they first arrived in the overworld they were at the place where the final battle had taken place, unfortunately a few hours walk from Magica’s money depository, and a several day bus ride from Duckburg. 

The sandwich was literally the best thing Lena had ever experienced. She’d never eaten food before, but goddamn, mortals sure took it for granted. 

She spent the next few days on the bus, a trip barely covered by the small amount of money her aunt had stashed. Magica assured Lena that when they got to Duckburg they could just take the money out of her bank account, which, uhh, didn’t end well. 

Apparently showing up looking like you’ve never showered in your life and claiming you were the relative of someone who had been missing for four and a half years didn’t incline the bank to give you money. Go figure. 

So. Lena was left in a big city with the physical body and mind of a thirteen year old, with no way to get food. Great. 

“What are we gonna do now?” Lena asked her aunt, curled outside the Duckburg bank. 

“Nothing.” Lena’s eyebrows scrunched. 

“Don’t I need food though? This is kinda a problem, isn't it?” 

“Obviously, but since someone couldn't convince the bank teller, there’s nothing we can do.” Magica said, uncaring.

Repressed anger flared in Lena’s chest.

“How is this my fault?” For once, there was literally nothing she could have done to make a different outcome. Trying harder wouldn't change anything when you were forcibly removed by someone three feet taller and four times wider than you. 

“Do not talk back to me.” Magica hissed, eyes flashing dangerously. 

Lena turned away, eyes stinging with angry tears. She tried to ignore the anger and resentment simmering in her stomach. The pool of negative emotion seemed to be growing with each day, breeding guilt that only brought more anger towards herself rather than her aunt. 

It just wasn't fair. Nothing is fair. Magica’s voice rang from her mind. That doesn't mean it's not frustrating as shit. 

The woman hadn't even apologized, just instructed Lena to eat tree bark. (Which technically sounds a lot worse than it is. She could ingest non digestible biomatter and turn it into magic energy that could keep her alive. Painfully hungry 24/7, but alive.) 

She cares about you. She’s tough because she cares. 

The words sounded hollow, ringing in Lena’s mind like a choir of too loud bells. 

[mirohed]

kim seunghun | love me, love me not

pairing: kim seunghun + gender neutral reader

wc: 3.7k

genre: hanahaki au + angst 

synopsis: daffodils represent unrequited love. is that why you keep coughing them up?

warnings: implications of suggestive content, descriptions of illness (and mention of surgery), mention of alcohol

playlist: love me, love me not.

a/n: happy birthday to me!! im glad i finally got to finish and post this (its,,, been in my wips since at least february LMAO) !! they prob wont read this but i wanted to thank my irls for dealing w me and my kpop bullshit (esp bc none of them stan ygtb 😔)

It's getting worse.

Your knuckles turn white, gripping the porcelain of the toilet. Tears and blood alike fall into the bowl, disturbing the gentle peace of the water. You pound at your chest, the action causing you to hack up yellow daffodil petals stained suspicious red. It's a monotonous process at this point. Pound. Cough. Pound. Cough. Repeat until the damned coughing stops.

It takes ten minutes before you return to normal. Or at least as normal as you can get. You got lucky this time.

You watch the petals spiral downward into the gaping hole in the toilet and get flushed away.

Being with Seunghun wasn't always accompanied by a tightness in your chest and petals tickling your throat.

june 19, 2005; 2:52 PM.

"I wanna grow up," you had grumbled, your hands squeezed around the chains of the swingset. You and Seunghun had been riding your bikes for the first time since getting the training wheels off. You had sped down a hill ("First one down’s a rotten egg!") and lost control, falling off and scraping your knee on the pavement. He rushed you to your parents' house, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist. The two of you had settled for playing on the swingset in your backyard instead.

"Me too," he said. "I think." He'd been rocking forward and backward on the swing, eyes focused on the blades of grass underfoot.

"You think?"

"I don't know." You stayed silent, trying to gain as much height as possible with your uninjured leg. "I don't wanna grow up and stop being friends." That got you to stop right in your tracks, your leg planted on the ground.

"What?" You sent an incredulous look his way. "Why would we stop being friends?"

He had let go of the swing, his hands finding his lap. "Some of the older kids stopped being friends when they grew up," he mumbled. "I don't wanna stop being friends, but neither did they..."

You got off the swing, limping over to him and wrapping Seunghun in the biggest hug your six-year-old arms could muster.

"We're gonna be best friends forever. Don't forget that."

"Best friends forever." If he wrapped his arms tighter around you then, you didn’t pick up on it.

[09:54 PM] huniebee🐝: i had fun today :^))

[09:54 PM] huniebee🐝: i wanna adopt a puppy!!

[09:55 PM] huniebee🐝: will you promise to help me take care of it

You brighten as the messages come in, your phone's vibrations distracting you from the way your throat clogs.

[09:56 PM] you: ofc

[09:56 PM] you: well be the best puppy parents the worlds ever seen

[09:57 PM] huniebee🐝: wait i need to send the pics from the pet shelter

[Attachment: 8 images]

You save each picture, cooing over the puppies you got to meet. This time, you only get a precious few minutes of relative clarity before things get too distracting to ignore. You return to the bathroom with a resigned sigh that devolves into a fit of coughs.

You cough and retch and cough some more. By the time you're done, there are less petals and more blood in the toilet bowl. Your chest still feels full of something you can't quite spit out.

Then you hack up something new: a bloody stem with wet flowers still attached.

There's nothing left to do but cry, your whole body wracked with pain both physical and emotional.

august 29, 2011; 3:15 PM.

"Today was fun," you said, making yourself right at home on Seunghun's bed. Your new backpack hadn't lasted more than a couple minutes in his house before getting neglected on his carpet. Your best friend hummed in acknowledgement, already sitting at his desk with his workbook out. "I'm glad we got to meet some new people," you continued, "but that Hyunsuk guy? Seems like a major pain in the ass."

"Give him a chance."

"I know, I know. I will. But still," you huffed, “it was his first day too. No need to act like a know-it-all."

"I know. But it's the first day. Maybe he'll even himself out with time."

The conversation ended there, and you spent some time staring at his ceiling fan, the blades going round and round in a big, beautiful blur. Before long, you had grown bored, looking over at him only to see his pencil flying across the paper.

"Hey. Let's go to the mall and get pretzels." Seunghun spun around to face you, a foot stopping his chair from going too far.

"Sure," he gave a placid smile. "Do your work first."

You groaned as loudly as you could, sounding much like a petulant child straight out of elementary school. (Which was more or less the truth, but you thought you were better than that.) After a few minutes of uninterrupted whining and failing to get Seunghun to break, you spoke up. "Why do I need to do my work? You're Mr. Hardworking, Mr. Teacher's Pet."

"We're in middle school now," he had said, and you remember thinking you were in for a long lecture, "and pretty soon, we're gonna have to go to high school and take entrance exams and decide which university we want to go to and..." He averted his gaze, put down his pen. "We need to start growing up."

"We're still young," you reasoned, sitting up and letting your legs dangle off the side of his bed. "If anything, this is our time to experience things and, you know, make mistakes before we become adults!"

He was silent for a few long, agonizing moments, long enough to make you think you'd won. The pretzels were within reach; all you had to do was ask for them.

"I call a compromise."

Shit. Compromises were common in your friendship. Seunghun was always a little too good at stopping you from making stupid decisions. The worst part was that you could never argue with them. "We go to the mall to get pretzels—my treat—if, and only if, you do your work. We don't go until we're both finished. Deal?"

You opened your mouth, determined to pick the proposal apart, but his reasoning was (unpleasant, yet) bulletproof. Instead, you reached for your backpack with a heavy sigh. "First of all, fuck you. Second of all," you said, tugging your own workbook out, "you're impossible."

"I know. Do your work."

"Fine."

The math problems had been difficult, definitely harder than you were used to, but doable. If anything, the greasy mall pretzels that were way too salty to be healthy made it all worth it.

Seunghun gets understandably very worried when you text him from the hospital, but he comes to see you nonetheless. In his arms is a bouquet of daffodils.

"They symbolize friendship," he says, setting it down on the table next to you. You stare at the pristine yellow petals and flatten your lips in a tight smile. How ironic, you think, that he doesn't know they also symbolize unrequited love.

"The doctors wouldn't tell me why you're here. Classified information, they said." That much is true; nor much is known about the disease outside of shitty romance movies with unrealistically happy endings. Seunghun always believed in them. You never did.

You don't think your story's gonna have a happy ending.

You didn't want him to know anyway, lest he worry. (And you don't want to think about what would happen to your friendship if he found out he was the cause of it all.) "You don't have to tell me," he begins, sitting himself down on one of those rigid hospital chairs, "I just wanna know if it's bad. Like, well...you know.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Terminal."

"Like if I'm gonna die?"

"Yeah," he rubs the nape of his neck, a bit abashed, "more or less."

"I don't know. Sure hope not," you chuckle. That brings on a coughing fit, and Seunghun looks on, brows knit together. He moves close to offer what little comfort he can, but you hold your hand up to stop him; having him near will only make things worse.

Petals threaten to spill out of your mouth, and panic bubbles in your chest when he asks if you're okay. Your doctor, bless her, chooses that moment to enter. She shooes him out "to speak to you in private." Seunghun, to his credit, obliges and flashes you a smile and a thumbs-up as he goes. You try to mirror his expression (and hope your smile isn't more of a grimace).

The door closes behind him with a soft click. "Friend of yours?" the doctor asks.

You spit the blood-stained petals into your hand, your doctor graciously looking the other way as you toss them into the trash. "You could say that."

october 4, 2013; 5:11 PM.

You tugged at your clothing, feeling more than a little uncomfortable as you waited for your best friend to show up. The DJ, a former student, was already hard at work inside the gym. You heard the bass-boosted beginning of the Cupid Shuffle and shot a frantic text to Seunghun.

[05:11 PM] you: holy shit theyre playing the cupid shuffle can you PLEASE hurry up

[05:12 PM] you: idc if this is our first homecoming you better get your ass over here

[05:12 PM] huniebee🐝: give me like two minutes!!

[05:12 PM] you: THE SONGS GONNA BE OVER IN 2 MIN

"Are you waiting for Seunghun?" Hyunsuk had asked, tie already loosened. You two had gotten close—not as close as you and Seunghun, of course—this year as a result of having classes together. You wondered why you ever hated him.

"Yeah. He won't be too late, thank God, but I'm pissed we're missing the Cupid Shuffle. What about you? I remember you bragging all week about 'flexing your dance skills in front of the ladies.' Or are you all talk, as usual?"

"You know, it's almost like you don't want me to wait with you."

You had laughed, knocking your shoulder into his. The chatter kept up for a minute or two before he made his leave. ("Well, it's time for me to flex my dance muscles in front of the seniors," he chuckled, giving you a salute as he walked off.)

"I'm here! God, I can't believe I missed the Cupid Shuffle," Seunghun said, head hung low. You began to feel a little self-conscious; you were feeling out of place in your semi-formal outfit, yet he looked right at home in his dress shirt.

Chasing those thoughts away, you grinned. "You're here now, aren't you? Come on." You took his hand and dragged him into the gym.

You don't talk to Seunghun or to Hyunsuk after that. You're not sure if you should tell Hyunsuk about the whole situation when he texts you. Seunghun must have told him something was up, of course, and he's insightful enough, sensitive enough (when he wants to be), but you worry. You're afraid he'll open his big mouth. Instead, you send a few messages to your best friend.

[04:29 AM] you: hey

[04:29 AM] you: i just wanted to say in advance that im sorry

[04:29 AM] you: im so so sorry for everything ive done and for what im about to do

There's one last message in the text box, daring you to send it. "I'm sorry I love you," you whisper instead, deleting the message before you do something you’ll regret. To seal the deal, you tap through a few menus until you reach his contact. The picture you've assigned to him is one you took; he's about to take a big bite of cotton candy bigger than his head.

With a heavy heart (though you hope it’s just the weight of the daffodils in your chest), you block his contact. It's better this way. It has to be.

Your doctor said you could get rid of the thick, thorned vines with a vicegrip around your heart and lungs, could pluck the flowers that threaten to spill out at the mere thought of your best friend.

The biggest side effect of it all, she told you, was that you'd forget all about Kim Seunghun. So you steel yourself.

The last thing you think about before they insert the thin needle of anesthesia in your veins is Seunghun's smile, and how you'll never see it in person again.

And how even if you did, you wouldn't remember it as the grin from the boy you love.

october 4, 2013; 9:16 PM.

The frenetic strobe lighting in the gym slowed to a stop, having been replaced with a spotlight making lazy rounds through the gym.

You knew that marked the beginning of a slow song, and dragged Seunghun off the floor in search of some punch. He seemed to have different plans, tugging you back on the floor and pulling you flush against him.

"Where are you going?" he had asked. "You're the one who wanted to dance the night away." His hands found your waist, yours instinctively folding behind his neck. You had wanted to say something about how that claim was void now; he was the one that made you miss the Cupid Shuffle, but the words get extinguished when you look at him.

It was just like that time you practiced in fifth grade, but you swore there was something different about tonight and the way you swayed. You thought back to your practice session in fifth grade, how you had stepped on each other's feet, how you spent the whole time laughing. (For the record, it wasn't for any lack of balance; you started it, laughing as he cried out before he stomped on your toe.)

There was no laughing during the song. Everything was vibrant and deafening and there all at once. But at the same time, it was like everything had been stripped away. Everything but you and Seunghun.

Things changed after that. You were left with a dizzying, free-fall sort of feeling that picked up with each glance at your best friend. Almost every butterfly in the world was taking current residency in your stomach, making you feel light as your body moved to the music. Before long, there was something lodged at the back of your throat, nudging its way forward.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you said, a particularly heavy cough bringing the mysterious lump to your mouth.

Running your tongue along the smooth texture of the lump (okay, so not phlegm), you spat the offending object into the sink: a single yellow petal, coated in saliva.

You blinked.

Blinked again.

"Oh, what the fuck," you muttered, unlocking your phone. One quick Google search later—why the fuck am i coughing up flowers—you found an answer.

Flora mortem. You were loath to believe WebMD, of all things, but you found yourself tapping the link regardless. There was another term for the rare disease: Hanahaki.

Revising your search query was a mistake. The first result was the "hanahaki" tag on Tumblr, which showed nothing but models with tears in their eyes and bloodied flowers in their mouths. Yikes.

You made your way back to the party after that, but lingering in the back of your mind was the cause of the disease: a severe case of unrequited love.

There is only one definite cure for Hanahaki Disease: having the object of the afflicted's affections return their feelings.

You almost manage to purge the petal and the stupid WebMD page from your mind for the rest of the night.

Almost.

You wake up hours later. It's a little disorienting, sure, to come to with little memory of what landed you in the hospital. You peek under the oversized hospital gown to see bandages over your chest, get tempted to rip the IV drip from your arm. The doctor comes in right before you make a move on the needle. She tells you all about how the flowers in your lungs are gone for good.

"You're saved. But the final test," she says, pulling a phone from her pocket, "is this. Do you recognize the people in this picture?"

You recognize yourself next to a boy you don't know. His hand's around your waist, pulling you close. You wear matching grins. Given the way you're both dressed, you suspect the picture's from your freshman year's homecoming dance. Weird. Memory's kinda fuzzy from that night.

"Yeah. Myself. I don't know the other guy. Am I supposed to?"

"No. You're not. Congratulations," she smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're cured."

You look through all the old messages and pictures when you have some time to yourself. You reach out for the memory, the feeling of knowing Kim Seunghun. You get nothing, and while your brain knows something's wrong, you're more concerned about being able to breathe easy.

You move to a new city, far, far away from the place you grew up in. You finish your last year of high school, get a job, start college. You make new memories with new people. You forget all about Kim Seunghun.

It gets easy to forget that you weren't born with the ugly faded red scars that run up and down your chest. It's your only remaining tie to the man you loved so much you almost let yourself wither away. You think it's a good thing you cut him off; why stick around, why force yourself to suffer, for someone who doesn't love you back? Why be with someone if it physically hurts to stay by their side?

But sometimes you wonder. What happened? What happened to him after his best friend walked out of his life for good with no explanation?

Those days are never good. You distract yourself then, often with the familiar kick of alcohol burning in the back of your throat. You've never been much of a drinker, but you figure it's never too late to start.

Sometimes, the distraction comes from being in the arms of another.

(One of your favorite distractions, a young man named Byounggon, had run his fingers along the angry lines one night, jotting them down in his map of your body.

"Do you regret it?" he asked then, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness. You cupped his cheek, ran a thumb along the planes of his face.

"I wouldn't be here if I regretted it, now would I?" He let the corners of his mouth turn up just so, pressing his lips to yours.

You don't talk to him much nowadays, your interactions reduced to likes on Instagram, views on Snapchat. He's moved to a bigger city. "More opportunities," he said. You keep up with his dream of being a musician, always. There was a time when you were his number one supporter, after all.)

"Will that be all?" the cashier asks, jotting your order on the plastic cup. When you nod, he asks for your name. He jots that down too.

But then his eyes widen and he looks at you with renewed interest. "I'm sorry?"

"Is there a problem?" you asks, peering at your name (spelled correctly) on the cup. His eyes search for an answer within yours, some sort of explanation you can't seem to give. He averts his gaze, shakes his head, places your cup in the queue of orders.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Just thought you were someone I knew. Have a nice day." You parrot the phrase, catching a glimpse of the young man's name tag.

Seunghun, it reads in cheerful yellow. There's a doodle of a puppy in the top right corner. You think it's rather cute.

Two weeks later, you meet Seunghun again. This time, you're out for a morning jog. The crisp autumn air greets you as your feet meet the pavement and let out a satisfactory crunch under the burnt orange leaves on the sidewalk.

You both get stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. While you catch your breath, you don't miss the way he flinches, as though he didn't expect you to show up. He schools his expression into something friendly within no time, and you wonder if you imagined the whole thing.

"The weather's nice, isn't it?"

"It is," you pant. "On your way to work?" He raises a hand to tug at the strap of his backpack with a small smile.

"Yeah. You should come by, give us business," he grins. "On mornings like this, I recommend the hazelnut latte." You hum in agreement, not yet recovered enough to converse. "Tell you what, you come and get one when I'm working, I'll make sure it's on the house."

"Really? Maybe I'll swing by." The light changes, and you leave Seunghun behind, waving goodbye as you do.

You come in later that day, ordering a hazelnut latte as promised. Seunghun's manning the register, same as two weeks ago, and when he takes everything down, he smiles. You miss it as you pay, but there's something extra on your cup.

As you take a sip of the (delicious; his coworker Yedam must be some sort of brewing prodigy) latte, you catch a glimpse of the extra writing.

Along the side of the cup is his phone number.

[10:58 PM] seunghun!: more than anything i want to adopt a puppy

[10:59 PM] seunghun!: or rather another one

[10:59 PM] seunghun!: i named this one after an old friend

[Attachment: 1 image]

The picture of Seunghun and his dog brings a smile to your face. You've been spending more time with him recently, whether it be going on coffee runs ("Are you sure you're not just using me for my employee discount?") or complaining about life as a broke college student ("My card got declined trying to buy a bag of chips last night...").

It's nice. Spending time with him is...nice.

It's more than a simple distraction, somebody to hold close on nights your decisions try to haunt you. It’s friendship, something to hold onto when you lose your way in the dense forest of your mind and to cherish when you manage to make it to a clearing and bask in the sunshine.

You've caught a cold recently (probably from that bastard Seo Changbin in your communications class). Seunghun's given you some homemade tea, swearing on its usefulness. It certainly tastes good, the sweet honey chased by tangy lemon. Unfortunately, the tea isn't able to stop the persistent cough you've been plagued with.

Feeling phlegm start to come up, you turn the bathroom lights on, hacking it up and spitting into the sink.

Huh. That's weird.

There's no phlegm.

The only thing in the sink is a single golden petal, coated in saliva.

[chloehl10]

I was tagged by the lovely @pocketsunshineharry​, thank you so much, love!

All answers should be about works published in 2018. (Skip any questions you don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can answer them if they want.)

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3:  29. Oops. Lol

2. Word count posted for the year:  

1,725,628. That’s 1.7 million words. I have no excuse.

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting):

A Lot Of Fight Left In Me You Bring Me Home Wonder How I Ever Made It Through Don’t You Remember? I Got Me An Appetite Tell Me That You Want Me Tonight Piece by Piece Hallelujah You’re Home Lucky Ones To Carry Love (I Can Show You How To) Slow Dance I Will Answer All Your Wishes You’ve Got This Spell On Me Look How Far We’ve Come My Baby Baby, Honey It’s Coming Home You’re My Only Hope Right Here Waiting Remedy I Knew You Were Waiting For Me With The Strength To Carry On Baby We Could Be Enough Lost Without You We’ve Already Won Feels Like Christmas  Let Me Be Your Star Made From Love Fairytale of New York You Were Made To Be Mine (wip)

4. Fandoms I wrote for:

One Direction 5. Pairings:

Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson 6. Story with the most

Kudos: You Were Made To Be Mine (wip) - 2,125 / Let Me Be Your Star (complete) -  1,177 Bookmarks:  You Were Made To Be Mine (wip) - 532 / Lucky Ones (complete) - 403 Comments: You Were Made To Be Mine (wip) - 3,111 / Let Me Be Your Star (complete) - 1,212

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

There’s two. You Were Made To Be Mine because I love it, and I think I’ve really created a world for these two characters, and Jacob is just one of my favourite characters I’ve ever written. Also Let Me Be Your Star. This was written on a whim after something on Twitter, and it’s just been so well received. I was proud of how accurately I wrote Louis, even before we saw on him on X Factor, and I’m just really proud of how it all went.

Oh and I have to mention my first long fic A Lot of Fight Left In Me. My heart and soul went into that story, and I love it so much. And Piece by Piece, this fic will always be so special to me.

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

I don’t want to say. I do have one, and in a way, I am tempted to orphan it. But hey.

11. A favourite excerpt of your writing:

This was hard. I’m going for this from YWMTBM chapter 56. “Lou….” Harry shuffled their bodies until his own legs were out in front of him, Louis’ body against his, silence broken by only Louis’ sobs, and Harry’s breaths. “Louis… you know it’s okay to not be okay, right? It’s not a weakness, sweetheart… you’re just, you’re just human.. Don’t ever be ashamed of hurting because I want to be the one you turn to… not the one you run away from, yeah? I want to share your burdens, wipe away your tears… hold you when you cry. Because I love you, Louis… so much, you have no idea how much.”

“Harry, I-”

“No, it’s my turn. Listen to me, please?” Louis nodded, more tears falling as Harry started to speak. He didn’t know if there was anything Harry could say to change his mind about this. No pretty words to fix it.

“You need to trust that I’m not going to run away when things get a little bit tough. Because I’m not, not now, not ever. You’ve been pushing me away, Louis, so fucking hard, and it hurt so bad because you wouldn’t let me in when all I wanted to do was help. I just want to be there for you-”

“But you nearly weren’t-” Louis whispered, the words falling from his lips. “You nearly left me, Harry… I… you nearly died, and you nearly left me. I had to listen to a doctor tell me that they didn't know if you were ever gonna wake up. I was nearly alone again, like before. I’ve never been so scared, Harry. I can’t bear the thought of you being taken away from me. I don’t want you to leave. It’s been easier to push you away, knowing that you would leave by your own free will, than losing you any other way.”

“I didn't want to leave… you have to know I never would have wanted that, Lou...” Harry was crying again now, reliving those awful memories, things he’d pushed deep down long ago, realising with horror that Louis had never moved on, had never really talked about how he felt when Harry had had his accident… how he’d nearly lost his husband. “But I’m here now, yeah? I don’t want to leave you, Louis. I want to grow old with you, and hold your hand every single day. I want to wake up to your beautiful blue eyes, and I want to share your pain, and your hurt. I want you to trust me, to let me do that for you.”

“You were there for me when I had my accident. You were my rock. You kept me going when I wanted to give up. When the physio was too much, I just wanted to give in, but you made me strong, Louis. You encouraged me… you believed in me. But now it’s my turn. It’s my turn to support you, to believe in you, like I promised when I married you. Please let me be there for you-” Harry’s voice cracked on the last word, meeting Louis’ eyes.

All Louis could see was honesty and love. There was a sincerity in Harry’s words that he just believed, and finally, he reached down, watching as his smaller hand sat on Harry’s, their fingers mingling gently, cautiously, as if they were afraid to touch. Louis bent his fingers, letting Harry clasp his hand in return. What seemed like such a small step seemed enormous to Louis, but he knew Harry was the only person he would ever want to be vulnerable with.

Despite everything… despite how hard Louis had tried to push him away, Harry wasn’t going anywhere. Harry loved him, and he loved Harry, more than he could ever say. He looked back into the eyes of his husband, the one who loved him in spite of his faults, who loved him because of them. Harry didn't see a broken man who he needed to fix. He just saw his Louis. Louis’ bottom lip wobbled as he stared deep into Harry’s eyes, as if he were looking into his soul, seeing the other half of himself.

12. Share or describe a favourite review you received:

Some of the comments I get make me want to cry, honestly. I’m not sure people know how much leaving a comment on AO3 means to authors. I’d be hard pressed to find just one, but anything where people can relate to my writing in their real life is always very touching. Here’s one that moved me deeply recently from my christmas fic Feels Like Christmas:

“Im not gonna lie, I had to take breaks reading this because it was SO SAD in parts, in between being so beautiful.Harry was just like an angel of Christmas in this and your Louis seemed, to me, to be VERY realistic. I can't imagine how losing Jay has affected him in general but especially on his birthday and at Christmas. She was such a beautiful mum and it still breaks my heart to read of her. The cemetery scene was perfection but heart-breakingly sad.I loved Harry delivering treats to the "neighbour" who turned out to be Louis. I wish I had a Harry :)Your writing was so sensory - which is something considering I'm Australian and rarely seen snow lol But the smells, sights etc of Christmas were just amazing.Terrific job, loved it :)“

13. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I went through a period of getting negative comments on YWMTBM and that was very hard to push through and tell the story I wanted to tell. But I did, and I am proud I did, because I write for me and that’s the most important thing. I have a story to finish, and I’m determined to. I also found the scenes in the middle of YWMTBM very hard and emotional, and I got caught up in Louis’ mindset for a while, which was very tough.

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: I wrote a section of YWMTBM where Louis was struggling a lot with his mental health, and I surprised myself by delving into a subject like that. It was quite different for me, but I hope I did it justice, and that people could understand Louis’ actions. Also I wrote an mpreg birth scene which I never expected to do lol.

15. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I feel my writing as a whole got better, I got more confident, and I was more able to craft stories.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

To not take on so much lol, although I love writing so much.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

I’ve worked so much with @thecompasspointstohome​, one of my closest friends and she’s so much of an inspiration to me, no matter how much she ignores that I tell her that. She’s amazing, and my work would be a mess without her. I am forever grateful to have her.

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Yes, a bit of a sad one. A child in my class in battling leukaemia at the moment, and he was the inspiration behind Mia and her story in A Lot Of Fight Left In Me. He still has his down days, but he’s an amazingly strong child and I hope he has the ending that Mia, Olly, Louis and Harry have in that story. 

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write for you. That’s the most important thing I’ve found.

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

My BDSM fic, and my Harry Potter exchange fic. I also have my fic for the Fanworks for Charity to write, as well as updating YWMTBM. I also have a few other stories in the works so wait and see :) Oh, and my tearjerker fic which I’ve been teasing forever on Twitter, oops...

21. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

Anyone who wants to do it, please do so!

[mkayisinsane]

Another 11/11/11 Tag Game!!

I was tagged again haha thanks @spilledinkpot for the tag, I really appreciate it! Again, sorry I took so long!

Her questions:

1. Are any (or all) of your ocs inspired by real people or other characters?

Not all of them, and much less so as I get older, but in my early writing every character had a real-life counterpart. Most often, my protagonist's best friend or most trusted person is based off of my parabatai. However, I do pretty much always imagine myself as the main character, or sometimes the villain. Also, imagining yourself as your OC aids the writing process SO MUCH I cannot stress that enough.

2. What is/was your inspiration for your current WIP?

I have a lot of current WIPs, I'm gonna go with my most recent, Flirting with Death. My inspiration was kinda morbid, I was literally sitting in the library at my college waiting on my mother to get me so we could carpool to a funeral. And a few guys were walking past where I sat, eyeing me up and down and I thought to myself, "I swear if one of them tries to hit on me right now I'm gonna make them regret it." And then Thana Carmichael was born. And those guys quickly escaped the death glare I gave them.

3. Do you prefer to plan your characters out, or develop them as the story progresses?

I normally have the base of my character and their personality and how they handle things worked out before I start writing them, but for the most part I develop them as the story progresses. I like to write them in such a way that I learn a little more about them as I go, just like the reader would.

4. How do you deal with writer's block?

I don't lol just kidding! It really depends, if I'm writing and I don't absolutely have to continue or get it done right then, I take a break. Listen to musical soundtracks, play video games, watch a film who's genre corresponds with the type of scene I'm writing. Anything with a story. If I do have to get it done right then though, I just keep writing. I write absolute shit that makes no sense and then take it out later. I once wrote a whole page of "blah" over and over again. I free write until I get my mojo back.

5. What/who first encouraged you to begin writing?

According to my earliest childhood babysitter, I've been writing since I learned the alphabet. I remember once when I was six, I wrote a whole six page book with pictures I drew about why I thought birds were pretty and cool (Update: I am now afraid of birds.) It was titled "BIRDS," yes in all caps, and I cried because my name was so long that I couldn't fit the whole thing on the cover. However, I didn't start really writing until about 6th grade. I was reading a book, and the ending was so sad that I got mad and rewrote it, and I realized how much I loved making stories, how much I loved choosing my own ending. In my life as a child, nothing was certain and I never stayed in one place for too long or made any lasting friendships, but writing was always a constant for me. And through writing I made more friends, and they helped me write and it was just incredible. I can't put into words how much writing has done for me.

6. Are you able to write everyday, or need a couple of days intermediate?

For my WIPs, I definitely need a day or two off before I continue the story but I definitely try to write something every day, even if it's just free-writing or ranting about my day or journaling, I write something every day. It isn't progress on my WIPs, but it helps.

7. How long have you been writing for?

In general, since about age 6 or 7. Seriously, about 6th grade, but I didn't like any of my writing until 8th grade, and at times I don't even now. So in general, 12 or 13 years, but seriously only about 7 or 8 years.

8. What inspired your first WIP?

The Percy Jackson series. I was 10 or 11, and I had just finished that series and I was mad there wasn't more, so I wrote myself into the books as like a spin-off type thing with the minor gods (btw in case anyone cares, I'm a Hades kid). Seven chapters in, my OC still hadn't left her house. It was not my finest work haha

9. Who are the authors that you looked up to, to develop your writing?

Lemony Snicket (yes I know that's a pen name, but I mean A Series of Unfortunate Events specifically), Neal Shusterman with his Unwind series, Marie Lu with literally anything she's written, Cassandra Clare with The Infernal Devices and The Mortal Instruments, J.K. Rowling with Harry Potter (I'm a huge Potterhead, Slytherin btw), Rick Riordan with anything he's ever written, Leigh Bardugo with anything she's ever written but mainly Six of Crows, and Oscar Wilde with The Picture of Dorian Gray. Probably many many more, I'll think of them later.

10. Is there a book that inspired you to write your own story?

Remember I mentioned that I didn't like the ending of a book I was reading so I rewrote it? That book was Bridge to Teribethia. If you read it, you know why I changed the ending. But also, I drew inspiration from books that made me feel like I was actually in the story, like I could see it all for myself. The stories felt real, and I wanted to be able to tell stories like that. To travel the world without leaving my room.

11. Do you include moral points in your writing, or prefer just the entertainment?

There is always something to take away from my writing, some lesson to be had, whether it be an emotion, a theme, a vice, or a virtue. I can't promise it's always moral, but it's always there.

My questions:

Which of your OCs fits the quote, "those with no vices have very few virtues"?

If you could meet just one of your favorite authors, dead or alive, who would it be?

What is your number one goal as a writer? (i.e. have your books taught in schools as "classics," write a series that makes people cry, get fanmail, mine personally is to create the perfect villain that no one can hate no matter what they do)

Do you project onto your writing?

Favorite ship you've written? Why?

Do you write LGBTQ+ characters? Why?

Do you write characters with mental illness? Why?

Have you ever tried to get published/actually been published?

What keeps you motivated to write?

What is your writing support system?

Do you write book dedications, and if so, are they always different?

And this concludes our 11/11/11 tag game! If I've tagged you and you have no clue who I am, I'm sorry lol I panicked tagging people but it means that either I follow you or you follow me. Rules are simple: answer my 11 questions, ask your own 11 questions, tag 11 people to answer them! Of course you don't have to play if you don't wanna, don't feel pressured to. If you want to tag me back or have me answer my own questions or just random questions, shoot me an ask. Thanks, and good luck!

@r-avenlee @writingmyselfintoanearlygrave @benvolio-writes @illiteracy-is-for-woozles @ill-write-when-im-dead @mercyandcruelty @crimescenedwrites @fictionalthrills @writerofscribbles @els-writes @gaslightwestern