#idk guys grief just came back biting at me

[atlantis-just-drowned]

Hey.

I finally came around achieving all of the little projects and experiences we used to talk about together.

The thing is, you weren't there.

You weren't in them, because other people were, that aren't you and aren't like you, but are here.

You're not here anymore.

I'm so sorry to tell you, you missed my 18th birthday and the occasion to meet my new friends, to see the new city I live in, the decoration in my new bedroom.

It's just... I miss you so much. I think you'd probably call me a hypocrite if I told you how much I think about you and how much I wish you were here with me, because you probably think I hate you. I don't.

I never hated you. I always wanted to make it right, but somewhere along the way I lost hope because I needed to protect myself more than I needed you, and you couldn't understand any of those things.

Do you ever think about me?

Are there certain songs, colours, words, TV shows and books that remind you of me? Do you still believe Lemon Demon has the same vibes as me? Do you ever turn around whenever someone calls my name, only to realise they're talking about someone else?

I think you don't.

I think the only thing you feel when you get reminded of me is irritation.

I hated you right?

We had never argued before. You had never seen me angry or despaired. You had never heard me say anything negative about you.

But then you played the mature, detached one and I snapped. And you couldn't handle it.

You told me so many hurtful things, and I probably did too.

Oh, how bad I felt, how much time I spent regretting every step we took toward this end.

I don't want to remember you this way, I don't want this to be the way I'll see you for the rest of my life.

You were such an amazing friend. Someone I could trust. Someone I was ready to follow to the other side of the country. Someone I cared for.

I do not hate you.

I never did, and I never will.

I just wished you'd care.

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

geto vers | baji vers

synopsis: when your husband and best friend are targeted by a hitman, the aftermath leaves you in shock. but suguru has always instilled one line into you: forever has no meaning unless you're in it.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!suguru, vampire!choso, vampire!satoru, hitman!toji, character death ( + resurrection), depictions of blood and violence, almost blind devotion, a bit angsty but also fluffy.. but also not really? idk what to tag this as LOL, canon divergent (gojo n geto are attacked much later in life), you have no clue they’re sorcerers 👍, swearing, sfw, if choso is ooc im so sorry idk barely anything about/cldnt get a read on his character from one episode djknj

ft + wc: vampire!suguru x reader, 3.2k

tags: @enchantedforest-network, @em1e (u guys should totally read em's necromancy fic btw)

a/n: hi! idk wtf this is, this is just how i deal with chara death i think? this idea came to me when i realized i was writing two fics about dealing with grief (baji fans are u here ?) and wrote nearly 2k for both in one sitting haha. anyways, i feel like atp i'm edda from ffxiv coded except suguru is 1000x better than avere. if you'd like to listen to her theme, it's here. thank u to wallaby for proofreading!

there is something about the morning light, filtered through the white blinds that you’ve forgotten so many times to replace, that feels just like a hug. it’s this light that kisses your eyelids and pulls you out of bed faster than your mother on a school morning. 

you’ll yawn, then stretch, pulling your arms up and over your head arching your back as you do. then you’ll get up, set up a pot of coffee before heading off to brush your teeth and wash your face. and you’ll pretend that you don’t see the eyes, red and shimmering, from the shadows in your closet.  

“go to bed suguru,” you sigh, before lightly pressing onto your puncture marks, hissing when they’re still tender. “it’s morning.” 

“i could fix that… if you’d let me.” he responds, the hinges of your door creaking ever so slightly before you gasp and rush to close them before the light bleeds in. 

“don’t!” you snap, hand trembling, “don’t… you dare.” 

you crouch down, before slotting your pinky into the smallest slit you can with the door still providing adequate coverage. before long, his cold finger entangles with yours and you smile. 

“by the way babe, when are we moving?” he jokes and when your eyes finally adjust to the dark, you can see him stretch his limbs, hands entangling with your hanging clothing. “it’s pretty cramped in here not gonna lie.” 

“well… i put in that application a few weeks ago and they did get back to me… so soon. we just need to go through the final steps.” you reply, fighting the urge to crawl into that small space with him and sleep the day off. 

when it comes to suguru, you’d do anything and everything, from the hairs on your head to the tips of your toes, you pledged yourself to him fully. 

“gonna go to work?” he asks and you nod, albeit with a pout. he snickers when he sees your expression, “aw, don’t cry. i’ll be right here.” 

you bite your lip, trying your best not to draw blood because you know. you know that suguru will always be right there, whenever you need him. 

you made sure of it. 

-

his name was choso. you remember the night you met him after a round of drinks at the bar. he was nice, if not a bit quiet, and loved to talk about his siblings. suguru and satoru talked aimlessly with shoko while you made new friends. it was a fun little past time. 

you don’t remember how you left the bar or how he even convinced you to follow him out. your mind muggy as you followed him, like a moth to a flame, down a back alley before you finally snapped to your senses and shoved him off before he could make a move. it wasn’t until you saw the razor sharp pearly whites of his teeth that you stopped. 

you asked him what he was, but he simply shrugged, asking, “have you ever dreamt about being saved from someone or something?” 

you nodded, of course you did. everyone has. 

“then that’s me. something you can dream about.”

it was a cryptic message, but a message you got nonetheless. choso was not of the day, flourishing under the midnight sky. but for some reason, he wasn’t necessarily scary. in the small amount of time you had spent, he seemed to listen to you and your woes. gotten to know a little bit of your family history, and perhaps decided you would do better with his. 

you remember hearing suguru’s panic laced voice calling out for you and you spun around to call back out. turning back, choso was gone. with a hand placed on your shoulder you were pulled into a tight embrace. 

“where were you?” suguru asks, nearly crushing you in the heat of his body, “almost lost my mind trying to find you.” he glances behind you, eyes scanning the alleyway in search of something or someone. 

“honestly… i don’t even know how i got out here,” you mumbled into his shoulder, hands trailing the familiar sensation of his clothing. “can we go home?” 

“yeah, i’ll just let gojo-“ 

“no!” you exclaimed, the uneasiness in your stomach now palpable, as you balled your fists into the fabric of his shirt, “let’s go now, please.” 

he blinks, before nodding, “okay, yeah, okay. let’s go home.” he presses a kiss to your forehead, almost like a seal of protection, before he’s throwing his arm around you and walking you home. 

you don’t ever recall meeting toji fushiguro. it was just another night out underneath flickering street lights, outside the same bar where you met choso, the street familiar yet empty. your husband smoked into the evening air, the scent wafting over and tickling your nose. 

“no offense, satoru, but i didn’t listen to a single thing you just said.” he stated, lips curled up into a smirk with the cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

“good,” satoru snorts, before glancing at you, “i wasn’t asking for their opinion anyway.” 

you feign ignorance, perking up and asking, “hm? what were we talking about?” 

“man the two of you are so fucking annoying.” he whines, head hung back as you both laugh. 

“care for a third opinion?” a voice asks and you gasp, jumping back. 

the man was tall, handsome, with dark hair and a scar on his lip, wearing a simple outfit of a tee and sweatpants. he seemed otherworldly as well, just like choso. maybe, it was the aura he exuded, more like the lack of, but it set your hairs up on end. 

suguru was quick to pull you behind him as your fingers instantly grabbed onto his shirt. 

“don’t really care for a stranger’s opinion,” satoru drawls, glancing over the tips of his sunglasses. but you can read his body easily, a culmination of friendship over the years. it was screaming: danger. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that. why don’t we introduce ourselves then? i’m toji.” he said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. but neither satoru nor suguru moved to grab it, instead they tensed, waiting. 

“suguru.” satoru whispered, a command with only one word. he understood exactly what it meant. you don’t remember suguru being able to run so fast, the force from his pull almost knocking the air out of you. nor do you remember satoru being able to fight so efficiently. 

you do remember suguru hiding you away and making you wait, even when you tried to hold onto him, he assured you it’d be fine and made you wait. but seconds ticked into minutes, long, monotonous minutes that made the pit of uneasiness in your stomach bloom into a festering bouquet of chrysanthemums. 

“suguru?” you called, stepping out into the dreary moonlight. no response. 

“satoru?” you tried again, quietly walking back towards the area they were in originally. it’s strange how quickly the night changes, how suddenly the flickering street lights aren’t an annoyance but one of your only sources of comfort, as if the dark can swallow you. 

“suguru,” you call out again, voice teetering on a breakdown and eyes scanning the desolate street.  “please res-“ 

you stop suddenly, the sickening squelch of something warm pooling beneath your feet halts you. you feel sick as you start to take in shallow breaths, eyes following the stream of ichor until it reaches its source.

suguru. 

you remember dragging his lifeless body down that familiar back alley. knowing that anyone would be able to see that trail of blood and find you. the darkness of that alley covered you, looming over you like a guardian, while the scent of trash almost, almost, covered the sharp tinge of iron that permeated the air.  

you propped suguru up against the wall as best you could, your body still thrumming with adrenaline. “just gimme a sec, okay?” you mumbled through tears, knowing that he couldn’t hear you. “i’ll figure it out, just like you always do.” 

you’re not sure why you were compelled to scream out that name, but maybe it was because in your dreams, he appeared when you least expected him too. 

“choso!” you screamed, waiting for a brief moment before you filled your lungs with air once more and tried again. “choso!” 

nothing. 

choso!

still nothing. 

and when nothingness almost consumed you, taking you into it’s ghostly clutches, you felt it: the sudden heaviness in the air. 

you feel like you screamed for hours, the name tumbling off your tongue and into the moonlit air like a siren song. just a little less pretty. in reality, it was probably only a few minutes before the brunette arrived, dark rimmed eyes and all. your new guardian “angel”. 

“he looks pretty bad if you ask me.” he started, already crouching down to your level, before reaching up to brush the red coated strands away from suguru’s face. “looks pretty dead.” 

“fix it.” you whispered, continuing even after choso shot you a look. “fucking fix him.” 

“what makes you think i can do that?” 

and in that moment, you feel compelled to tell him about the dreams that you’ve been having lately. the ones where he’s in them, beckoning you to stay under his protection. call for me and i’ll be there. 

but you keep it simple, too pressed for time. “you’re in my dreams, right?” you answer. 

he’s quiet, face softening as he mulls over your words. “good to know.” his eyes wander over to the crimson trail, that bleeds from the streetlamps to your waiting spot. “he’ll probably find you.” 

“toji?” you ask and he nods, “i don’t even know why he’s after us.” 

“he’s not after you, he’s after him.” he says, cupping suguru’s face, dribbles of blood falling from his mouth, and you twitch, almost reaching out to snatch his hand away, “he’s never liked sorcerers.” 

“sorcery…?” you mumble, glancing once more at your lifeless husband. 

but you’ve never heard that word, believing that magic cannot exist, that what you saw could not be explained so easily. there is no magic, only reality, and what is this but such painful, excruciating reality that sucks the air from your lungs and the color from your eyes.

choso dodges the question, “well then. let’s get out of here.” before he places a palm on the back of your neck, sending you back off to dream. 

there’s a voice that pulls him out of the light. low and drumming, it snaps him back into the present and out of his stupor. he sits up, scrambling to make sense of just where he is and who is talking to him. the bed he’s in is similar to a hospital bed, although the white sheets are now stained red. 

“… stay out of the sunlight, feed only when you’re hungry, animal blood counts, it just doesn’t taste that good,” choso continues listing things off, not taking into the account the shock etched so firmly into suguru’s face. “you can feed on them and if they ever wanna turn, let me know, i’ll teach you how to do it.” 

suguru whips his head around, spotting you sitting in a chair with blood covered and bruised knees, the sweat and tears now dried on your face. you glance up at him, giving a little wave and a tired smile. he notes the dried blood that seems to be caked even under your fingers. 

“what the fuck did you do to them?” 

“you mean, what did i do to you?” the brunette retorts. “you wanted to stay together, right? now you can.” he answers, crossing his arms and leaning back against his desk. but suguru’s not sure if he’s asking him or you, the one who smells so much sharper and sweeter than he remembers. you also smell of blood. so much blood that he can hear it coursing through you with each thump of your heartbeat. 

and like a moth to a flame, you stand on wobbly knees, the pads of your feet hitting the floor in sluggish steps as you pad over and throw yourself onto your lover. 

“don’t be mad at me,” you whisper, your eyelids fluttering as you try to fight back your tears. “i thought i could figure things out like you always do… because i always rely on you, right? i was too scared to be alone.” 

he’s so cold now and you’re so unbearably warm, the perfect juxtaposition of your souls. although he doesn’t need to, he takes a deep breath, before pulling you into his embrace. 

“you’re cold, sugu.” you mumble, yet you press harder, deeper into his embrace. 

“is that a turn off?” he jokes because he can’t be mad at you, not now and not ever. and any fragments of anger always dissipate like a puff of smoke. you giggle, before finally giving in and crying, digging your nails into his stiff skin. you cry until you can’t anymore, going limp and falling asleep in his arms. 

suguru’s gaze shifts upwards, as he holds you protectively, one arm wrapped firmly around your lower back, the other on the back of your head, fingers laced in your hair. 

“so, no introductions?” he asks, trying to be friendly, although the intonation in his voice betrays him. it’s first time meeting such a strange man, who can blame him? 

certainly not choso, who responds in turn, “my bad. you can call me choso. i fixed you up on their behalf.” 

“and satoru?” he asks, scanning the room to see if he can find the familiar white tufts of hair. 

“is fine,” choso replies, before jutting a finger out towards you, “they made sure to cover all the bases.” 

suguru shifts you in his hold, pressing a kiss to your forehead, that familiar seal of protection once again placed within your being. but also, as thanks for trying to keep everyone safe.

“then, where is he?” he asks while the other sighs and points over to another bed in the corner. dark eyes follow and the familiar tufts of silver hair peek immediately confirm it’s satoru. 

“he’s gonna wake up soon too. i’ll fill him in on the details.” before suguru can reply he’s cut off, “you should go soon, before the sun rises.” 

“am i actually a vampire?” 

“vampire, dracula, nosferatu, the undead. you can choose whatever you want.” 

“… i see.” he pauses, glancing back at satoru’s sleeping form before deciding he’ll be fine on his own. “we’ll be going then. …thanks.” 

he places his feet on the floor, still wearing his shoes from earlier and starts to walk off, cradling you in his arms. 

“when you feed, geto, don’t overdo it. or they will die.” 

he stops mid-step, gripping you tighter in his embrace, his brow furrowed, before finally walking off. 

you really should’ve taken a photo for satoru of the realtor’s perplexed expression when only you showed up to a three bedroom home, insistent on your need for space. 

when you do get that house, situated so nicely in the countryside, away from the buzz of the city, you think about what life would be like if you changed. if you no longer saw the sunlight. but you shake your head, pressing your fingers up to your neck once more, rubbing over the now scabbing indentations. 

you know suguru can’t feast on you forever as your body ages and his does not. but the thought of him feeding on someone else makes your stomach turn. 

“woow,” satoru hums, breaking you out of your trance as he takes in the new home, “not bad! not bad at all.” 

you smile, “thanks, satoru. i wanted to make sure you had your own space too.” 

“whats the third room for?” he asks, peeking his head in as he saunters around the new home. 

“office space.” you reply, “remember i work from home?” 

he nods, replying, “ooh, makes sense,” before he’s suddenly in front of you. his once crystalline blue eyes, now a deep crimson. “can i get a quick snack? i’m hungry.” 

“always so insatiable, satoru.” you tsk, rolling your eyes, but hold up your wrist anyway.

“not my fault you just so happen to be the best tasting human around.” he says, smiling against the thin skin of your wrist. 

luckily for you, he’s fast, the pain is almost nonexistent beyond the prick of his fangs but you still shut your eyes, waiting for it to be over. and when it’s over, gojo thanks you for the meal with a large bow before leaving to settle in his room. 

it’s so different from suguru who plans out the days that he’ll feed, keeping you in his clutches for what seems like hours as he sips away at your blood, making sure to maximize the experience.

the blood loss always makes you so dizzy, dizzy and pliant. he likes to watch over you afterwards, splayed against the sheets, fingertips running over your veins as if he’s painting over them in hues of ice. 

in your half-conscious state you never notice the furrow of his brow as he contemplates turning you every single time. you won’t last forever, too fragile, too soft, too alive. and suguru believes that forever only exists if you are in it as well. he asks you one night, while the house is almost too still, if you’d stay with him forever. 

“… of course…” you murmur, head dazed and body heavy, “always, sugu.” 

“even if you lose yourself?” 

“i can’t… lose myself if i’m with you.” you smile contently, reaching out to him with one shaky hand. 

“then how would you feel…” he asks, fingertips snaking up the veins of your neck, “if i turned you?” you shiver under his touch, eyelids fluttering not only at the sensation but also the low timbre of his voice. 

“turn me?” you mumble, pressing your hand against his, encouraging him to continue carressing your skin, “like… choso did with you?” 

he grins, albeit a small one and nods. hand now exploring the curves of your face, “just like that.” and while his hand is ice cold, it sears your skin with his touch, a testament to how deeply you’ve fallen. 

you pout, finally relaying your fears, “won’t you feed on others though?” 

“you want me to starve?” he jokes, still running his touch over you. 

“let’s go vegan.” you hum, your consciousness starting to drift until the thrum of his fingers. 

with your eyes closed you don’t catch the expression on his face, but you catch his laugh, drifting down into your ear. “i don’t know if that’s how it works, honey.” 

“animals...” you mumble, breaths becoming deeper with each passing second. “like humans… but diet… is how choso… explained it right?” 

he smiles, letting you fall deep into sleep. he keeps his hand intertwined with yours, knowing that even in dreams you hold onto him as if you were awake. he thinks you look so beautiful in the moonlight, better even than the moon or the stars themselves. 

and he is so sure, that forever cannot exist, if you’re not in it. 

[your-local-uwu-artist]

HELLO

So I have finished both season 10 and just last night season 11 of ninjago!

Season ten I finished at like 1 am staying up late to watch it so that's why I forgor to post about it

So I'll do that first!

Season 10 was a 10/10!!!

Really liked garmadon's characterization. My favorite part was when a random ass guy explained the meaning of life to him. I liked seeing Faith again. I thought the Cole death fakeput was really well done. Specifically how it like, tied into multiple things going on with the story. This shows always been good at that. Like how the grief leads to garmadon character moments and also internal struggle for nya and sense Cole's actually fine now we have to parrelell threads of story to follow and wait to reconnect

SEASON 11

Holy SHIT

-I think I like the new rendering style, it makes the colors look brighter. No real opinion on the added hair texture but I enjoyed the added texture to clothes and stuff. There were some scenes where I was like 'animators having fun' and really that's what I think is most important :3

-Cole's dumbass soda hat my beloved

-loved the episode where they were just like: looking for problems. They are all such silly Billies. Borderline menaces on occasion

-also loved the episode with the paperboys and the news network. I've thought a lot about the citizens of ninjago city and these episodes finnally gave me a proper look into it. Was not dissapointdd!! I am delighted!!!

-jumping ahead here but pixel and Zane's reunion hug was SO fucking cute. My God. There little photo too!!!! My God there always adorable together but it still just ajgfiabduaks my heartttt. Tbh personally I see them as more of a qpr/soulmates kinda thing rather then a conventional romance. Like just, they love each other and that's all that matters <3

-GOD DAMMIT the ice emperor shit goes SO hard. Lots for the fanfics to explore here.

-I fucking LOVED how they had the hand on the scroll all frozen over and whenever he stood up from the throne there was ice breaking just my godddddd

-also I am sorry to admit I did at one point think to my self 'very Elsa core'

-I feel like there was a lot of things this season why I found myself thinking that there's three sides to every story. A lot of stuff where I felt like what we the audience were being shown wasn't quite the reality. I think the episode with the jailbreak proves this. Like with aspheera and wu. I'm sure there's something more there. That ashpeera's retelling of events would be different. Maybe king mamba was actually a huge asshole or smth. Idk. The point is there is something unknown there... CUE THE FANFICTION PLEASE.

-this leads into vex. I'm CERTAIN his story of leaving the formlings and when he came back to give evil speech went down VERY differently then what we were able to see. Not that Vex snt a fucking loser piece of work. He stalked a vulnerable individual and went 'I can manipulate this guy! '. Just that I thing things are a little more complicated then what we saw. Kinda like with nadakhan: still a fucking horrible person, but there was some characterization that showed them as A person. Rather then a stand in for a generic monster. I think that makes them scarier monsters actually

-speaking of monsters Krag was great. Love how Cole really just went 'Krag comes with us, Krag is friend now'

-I loved akita! Fun design!!!! She'd bite people for fun and she's real for that

-god dammit Zane's little goodbye video message was so fucking sad and sweet

-oh yeah the random ass 2d segments! I defiantly enjoyed them! They weren't perfect but who cares. I wonder like: how that happened tho???

-welp that's all from the top of my head.

[bdudette]

Caving Love - E. M.

MASTERLIST || STRANGER THINGS

Summary: In where she loves him but never said it. Maybe until his incoming death they will both confess ?

Character: Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Warning Tags: Fluffy but Angst ?!?! Curse words, Steve sucking at relationships but still giving advice ?, kinda cute ngl, Bad ending —maybe ??? , character death in the future ???, spoiler s4, detailed song fic. This is cringe overall cuz I’m still rusty —

A|N: I have nothing to say other than this was so long I had to cut it up lol. This is my first music related fic so idk how to do this — yeah. It was between Accidentally In Love and As The World Caves In — yall can see who won lol. Just used half of the song btw 👀

Part 1 Here ⇝ 2

My feet are aching.

And your back is pretty tired.

And we’ve drunk a couple bottles, babe.

And set our griefs aside.

Falling in Love. Falling in Love with someone was something people couldn’t avoid nor could they do anything about, especially when it came to changing with whom they fell for in the first place. Eddie Munson. Eddie was the one she had started liking since she was young as her younger self had gained a giant crush on him as the guy basically showed off his true self with little shame and full confidence. Both growing up to become high schoolers of different sociable places that didn’t allow them to interact as much as they would’ve liked.

So when all of a sudden, he was linked to a murder he didn’t cause and was soon roped into this upside down world, she was scared. Scared of this love that shouldn’t get in the way of this new mission to save the world. Scared of what could happen to Eddie Munson in this said cruel world of monsters similar to the board game the man played.

But who knew that Eddie also felt the same with these romantic feelings, he had since years back and just never mentioned it to her no matter how many times they’ve interacted before — which wasn’t extremely a lot but he still held a deep crush for her and he feared the rejection he was sure to come if he had ever confessed.

So when this opportunity came, he decided to shoot his shot. In this new world of death.

“ Hey, uh — [Y|N], right ? I mean — of course it’s [Y|N] what else would it be since we’ve already met a bunch of times before with group projects and all and well — I’m rambling — I’m uh — Eddie, “ Eddie smile awkwardly, biting the inward of his bottom lips as his face felt hot and his chest felt even hotter with embarrassment on how he was talking non stop to this beautiful person in front of him that he had a huge crush on since a long time.

It didn’t help that dustin was in the back looking at him with a ‘ wtf ? ‘ expression at how Eddie was interacting with [Y|N] as the group walked through the woods of Hawkins.

But the young woman didn’t mind this, deciding to smile at Eddie with a slightly nervous expression herself, “ Of course I know who you are, Eddie Munson, yeah ? I’ve uh - seen you play for the Corroded Coffin, in middle school, “ at this revelation, Eddie gaped at her, doe - dark eyes staring at her with awe and wonder as his own heart organ gave abnormal beats that he was sure were 100% related to a heart disease called love.

[Y|N] was fumbling a little with her words, nervous that Eddie would think weird of her to even remember his still existing group, so she just kept on taking, “ I - uh - I remember since I did write a letter to your group, I really loved watching you guys perform, you guys were the ones who kinda got me into hard core rock and metal music , so — yeah , that’s weird, I’m sorry, “ she gritted her teeth, keeping her lips closed as she tried not to speak anymore as to not embarrass herself but the only thing she really did was caused the school’s ‘ weird ‘ metal kid to fall even more in love than he already was from just watching her afar.

He stopped his steps for a moment — along with [Y|N] — whilst they spoke. Staring at the gorgeous girl in front of him.

He gave out a shaky sigh, moving one of his ringed fingers up to his lips and in between his teeth as he stared at her with so much adoration in his beautiful big eyes even though she couldn’t really see it since she was looking away in awkwardness, he hissed out air from his mouth before forcing his hand away from his face as he shook his hands in front of him and jumped a little on his spot , “ No , no , no — Jes — You’re good, fuck — “

His sudden outburst caused [Y|N] to look at Eddie in sudden fright and confusion, causing the young adult to back up a little before taking a step closer to her again, “ you’re more than good, you’re fantastic ! That was you !? You really inspired my band group to keep on playing ! You — you …. You seriously are amazing, [Y|N]. “

They were both flushed at this point , excited at the fact that they were talking to one another and yet oblivious to the fact that they had a thing for each other. And they kept on walking towards the moving group. Glancing at one another ever so often. Their interaction caused some of the people in the group to smile at how sweet they seemed yet most of them gagged and rolled their eyes at their obvious, cutesy shit that they didn’t have time for.

They both couldn’t help — really couldn’t — but want this moment to last longer. Far longer than what came after.

The papers say it’s doomsday.

The button has been pressed.

We’re gonna nuke each other up, boys.

‘Til old Satan stands impressed.

It wasn’t long before things started to get even worse for them. To Eddie’s own surprise — they started fighting bats. Freaking bats ! What the fuck did he get himself into !? Well — he didn’t actually get into this shit willingly that’s for sure — but damn ! And then they found out that they were stuck in 1983 ? At least they were able to contact the kiddos before anything and started heading to his trailer — but — DAMN !

He didn’t get the chance to interact with [Y|N] at all !! What the actual fuck !? He is blaming it on the girls for taking her attention with all the talking — or maybe he should really just blame himself since he was too nervous to go up to talk to her again and decided to stick himself on Steve’s side — who seemed to notice his disappointment and hesitation.

Steve glanced at Eddie when he heard the 50th sigh coming out of the metal guitarist. Eyebrow twitching a little bit from annoyance but thankfully he has grown patient from having taken care of the kiddos for a while now. Though — that patience quickly snapped when he heard the weirdo starting to sigh again, “ What’s the matter ? “ he spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice, this being the second time they were speaking to one another after the previous one where Eddie encouraged his pinning towards Nancy Wheeler — basically.

“ What ? What ? Nothings the matter ? What do you mean ? Everything’s fine ? Nothings the matter with me, pft, what’s the matter with you -? “ Steve rolled his eyes at the rambling as he continued to walk next to Eddie, “ Spill it Munson, you basically broke the worlds record on a person sighing within 10 seconds. “

Eddie wondered for a moment — is a record like that even a thing ? — before shaking his head before stifling a sigh at the feeling of Steve glaring at him when he saw him almost open his mouth to do that again. “ Well — it’s [Y|N]. She’s what’s matter with me — and not even in a bad way ? She — I — I just don’t know ? Usually I’m good at talking with everyone and all but — “ he looked forward, heart stuttering at the sight of the said woman walking next to Nancy and robin with a determined expression.

“ Fuck — anytime I try to talk to her I keep embarrassing myself ! “ he whisper-yelled, looking back at Steve who only looked at him with a quirked brow. “ And I can’t help it — she’s just so fucking awesome and sweet and just so kind I — I wanna tell her I like her — basically love her — but — what if she doesn’t like me back ? “ Eddie groaned, moving his hands up to rub his face, trying to avoid rubbing his rings on his eyes.

“ I don’t even know why I’m talking about this to you when you don’t even have a solid relationship yet, no offense, “ he slumped while Steve looked at him with a gaped, offended expression as he laid a hand on his exposed hairy chest, “ a lot of offense taken ! “

Steve decided to push that aside and try to give some good advice in romance to the other boy. “ Look, Munson — what you have to do is just talk to her. You did that earlier and it went well ! Well — kind of ? It wasn’t bad — just a little awkward ? Besides ! She looks like she likes you too ! Trust me. “

Eddie looked at Steve with furrowed eyes. Looking back at [Y|N] before faltering in his intense staring when the said beautiful woman turned to glance at him and — and freaking waved at him too with that cute smile of hers — he gave out a shaky sigh this time.

Steve rolled his eyes at how helplessly in love Eddie looked, did he look at Nancy like that too ? Steve shook his head before patting at the metal lover slumped back, “ besides, how would you know she doesn’t like you if you never say anything ? Come on, we only have one life to live. “

Nodding before straightening up his back.

“ Yeah — You’re right. We only have one life. Gotta love it as hardcore metal as possible. Just like Death is. “

Steve looked confused and slightly concerned as he tilted his head towards Eddie as he didn’t even get the reference at all , “ What ? “

And here it is, our final night alive.

As the earth burns to the ground.

It wasn’t long before things got more complicated for everyone. Yet so intimate for the oblivious - and seeming - star crossed lovers.

Oh, boy, it’s you that I lie with.

As the atom bomb locks in.

Oh, boy, it’s you I watch tv with.

As the world, as the world caves in.

[quaranmine]

i was going to make a post like "shoutout to my wips that probably won't get posted in 2022" but instead here's my current projects:

i'll be waiting here til the stars fall out of the sky: OKAY. I DO PLAN TO POST CHAPTER ONE BEFORE CHRISTMAS. so it will make it by the end of 2022, but it's obivously my biggest and longest running project. it's currently 25k with 5 chapters, since i'm trying to write 5k per chapter. it might go all the way to 17 chapters with my outline.

for those who somehow don't know its plot, it is a massive fanfic picking up at the end of htbahb and S8, dealing with the concept of trying to reunite all the hermits after they scattered before the moon fell. the main povs are grian (boatem group) and ren (rendoc group) with some recurring side povs from people like false. it is also a long-form look at trauma, grief, friendship, and letting other people help you

a fic variously known as "the heart is just another organ" and "that's alright, i'll just find a way to bite": this is a 7.7k watcher grian wip that is a) a different interpretation of him being a watcher than i normally use and b) supposed to overall deal with grian's like....tendency to kill everyone he cares about in the traffic series. like. grian is NOT a great guy in any of the games, but i dont think he's a bad person overall, but he's also very murderous and???? IDK! it's just interesting. he can be so violent and cruel, but also not, but also he didn't have a choice in some of this, but also he DID have a choice for a lot of it, and it's just...complicated.

this fic is also variously devastating in several ways, contains some of my favorite descriptions i've written, and i definitely plan to eventually finish it however it looks like i might not make it before we get the 4th life series lol. i wrote 7.7k words and i have not made it out of S6, let alone to 3rd life whoops. im chewing on the grian in this fic hes soooo

tumble town gothic: i think at this point that might actually be the title. i explained this concept in discord and people were like "wtnv vibes". i used the "gothic" part based on those posts that people would write (in turn referencing southern gothic style.) basically there is an eldritch Creature that lives in tumble town, that the town has learned to live around (it would be hostile to them, but they respect it. that's what tumble town is built on, right? respect.) and jimmy basically tries to bait it into killing joel LOL. i like this one because a) it's fun to worldbuild for a western town b) it's fun to write jimmy and joel being variously awful to each other and c) mild horror concepts.

the moon, and other misbehaving celestial entities: THE FAMED HITCHIKER'S AU! god i love this fic so much. im probably biased because it's my own writing but i think it's hysterical. this idea came to me when i had a hgttg Moment rereading the book and was like hey. the two things that hermitcraft season 8 and hgttg have in common is that earth get destroyed in both of them! and from that the fic was born. it's about 5k words so far, but very early into it.

grian and pearl are both siblings in this fic, and also aliens. and also kind of from the future but they failed to get back to their own time period and decided hermitcraft was nice so it's whatever. pearl was an architect, and grian got a job with the Guide in the time traveling divison. because, of course, the best way to ensure their publication is historically correct is to have their reasearchers visit other time periods! grian got lazy and did all his research on one planet on evo by manually shifting the time periods and the watchers got mad because he didn't have permits to do that :/ so he ran away but his space-time machine broke and stranded him in S6 of hermitcraft. pearl tried to follow but due to timey-wimey stuff didn't make it til S8. much like ford saves arthur in hgttg, the two of them save boatem at the last minute before the moon crashes. grian is confident they can go back and save all the hermits, because he has a time machine! except, ah, of course he doesn't have it anymore--

half of the plot is similar to the book, and the other half is totally divergent. there's not really any 1:1 characters so apologies, we have no zaphod or trillian or marvin characters. (that said, i have to somehow manage to fit zedaph in this fic just for the sole reason that his entire YT-online persona name is inspired by hgttg) this fic also ended up being so doctor who-core with the inclusion of time travel that it's almost a crossover of that too LOL

various lonesome dreams-verse fics: i have one 1k wip of a story about jimmy + chronic pain, under the idea that his listener powers of destruction often affect him too. because as someone with an autoimmune disease it's a very familiar concept... i also have a wip from double life about the similarities between the whole listener idea and the wardens/deep dark. i also have a long-term goal to write a story where they break OUT of this cycle of death games and that jimmy is key in it. none of these are particularly finished

my goal for 2023 is to finish the top four because i'm very attached to all of them as concepts!!!

[shuahoonie]

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right? 

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k! 

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday. 

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love. 

gif credits: @underoos-shield​ 

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging. 

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle. 

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest. 

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway. 

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted. 

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom.  “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.” 

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019. 

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.” 

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone. 

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you. 

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place. 

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started. 

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly. 

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.” 

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious. 

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him. 

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly. 

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too. 

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.” 

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.” 

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?” 

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it. 

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?” 

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on. 

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long. 

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.” 

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend. 

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her. 

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped. 

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.” 

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.” 

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.” 

“What?” 

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush. 

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks. 

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation. 

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—” 

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this. 

So—what really happened with you and Tom? 

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA! 

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.  

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head. 

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no?  Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol. 

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes. 

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously. 

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

 So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state. 

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk 

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were. 

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too. 

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price. 

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed. 

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt. 

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.” 

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.” 

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.” 

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob. 

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger. 

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.” 

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half. 

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that. 

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom. 

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out. 

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.” 

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it. 

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera. 

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror. 

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”  

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.” 

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend. 

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame. 

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.” 

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open. 

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door. 

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime. 

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly. 

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred. 

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.” 

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.” 

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still! 

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom. 

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close. 

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.” 

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over. 

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on. 

“Tom—” 

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—” 

“Tom, listen to me.” 

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes. 

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?” 

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.” 

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.” 

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.” 

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables. 

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out. 

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings. 

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door. 

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.” 

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.” 

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude. 

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along. 

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.” 

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.” 

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.” 

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.” 

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up. 

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight. 

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.” 

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail. 

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee. 

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?” 

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you. 

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands. 

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question. 

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly. 

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.” 

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?” 

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless. 

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. 

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe. 

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter. 

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.” 

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.” 

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe. 

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin. 

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day. 

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone. 

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used. 

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?” 

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it. 

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime. 

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you. 

“Well, he hates—” 

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth. 

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point. 

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?” 

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed. 

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house. 

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later. 

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts. 

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously. 

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.” 

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part. 

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up. 

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face. 

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug. 

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t. 

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him 

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates. 

Tom was confused. 

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.” 

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. 

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately. 

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh. 

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily. 

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big. 

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it. 

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”  

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well. 

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with. 

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.” 

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.” 

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about. 

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve. 

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly. 

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask, 

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?” 

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom. 

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you. 

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers. 

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas. 

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning. 

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly. 

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud. 

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.” 

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself. 

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night. 

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures. 

“How did that even—” 

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face. 

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.  

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish. 

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11​ @tomshufflepuff​ @spider-babe​ @goodgirlgonetom​

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 5: The Three Day Hike

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Oh, what was that you said about progress? Liu reveals what you could only guess and you reveal a deep secret that's been eating you alive. It doesn't go well.

A/N: I love writing you yelling at each other and then having deep emotional baggage moments Lol. I also just love angst, idk. I just do. It's fun to make characters hurt! Hope you guys are doing well. Smooches. As always, open to suggestions for nonsense.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

A wall of shadow rose into the heavens above, melting into the clouds, and spreading darkness like ink through veins. Red light shone through the gaps in the clouds and the ground began to freeze before your feet. Kung Lao’s face was just before yours. His familiar long face, broad jaw, worry in his dark eyes, all things you missed so desperately. You touched his cheek and his skin turned gray beneath your fingertips.

“Wake up, Y/N.” He begged you and your fingers froze. Ice crackled over your palm and spread up your arm. “Please.” He grabbed your shoulders and you gasped at the feeling of cold in your chest, sudden and violent. Shutting your eyes tight you tried to breathe but when you opened them, you were in the little cabin, tucked neatly into bed, the bag with Kung Lao’s trinket in your arms.

You were alone in the cabin and trembling, so you pulled the bag closer to comfort you. A nightmare, of course. You’d had them a thousand times since he’d died but this felt different. Your hands were stained with ink and that worried you too. Kung Lao had been so desperate to wake you up and the imagery had been so obscure and yet specific. You’d suffered a curse of visions once, but Raiden had helped you through it. It had been worse when you were a kid but back then it had disappeared after a few years too. You’d grown out of it.

This hadn’t been a vision, right? Not in any way that you could interpret. It was just you missing Kung Lao and feeling guilty for living without him. Probably feeling guilty for sleeping with Liu Kang. And feeling guilty for making it harder on him.

Guilt. That was to blame.

You got ready for the day and slung your bag over your shoulder and stepped outside the cabin. The sun was shining and it was unseasonably warm. Liu Kang sat near the door in the grass meditating. That was much more like the Liu Kang you were used to. You smiled. Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad. Last night had been nice. Even a little comforting.

“They offered us supplies for the hike. We should grab some before we go. Food at least.” You greeted him and he heaved an annoyed sigh and looked to you as if frustrated that you’d interrupted him. “Sorry-“

“I’m good.”

“…but it’s a… three… day….” You began and he returned to his meditation without hearing you out. Never mind. Bitchy Liu Kang was back. So much for that. You bit you tongue and decided it best to leave him be. There was no point in fighting so early in the morning. You were too shaky from your nightmare and had bigger things to think about than hot and cold Liu Kang. It was like he’d borrowed Kung Lao’s ego to make up for the loss of his brother. “Fine.” You went on your way. If he wanted to be a moron about it, then you would let him be a moron.

Once away from the intoxicating stink of Liu Kang, you felt much better. The people of the village were exceedingly kind and generous. You took only what you thought you would need for your journey and a day’s extra just in case something went wrong. Both you and Liu were resourceful so if you got into a pinch, you would manage. He’d trained his whole life for survival, and you’d gotten pretty good at it since coming to Raiden’s Temple.

You packed up the supplies and then thanked them again for their hospitality before heading out of town with Liu who was silent the whole time. He didn’t even say goodbye. It was going to be a long hike if he continued like this. You wished that Raiden would have just sent you alone. He had the foresight to know that it would be uncomfortable. Then again, you weren’t sure just how much Raiden knew of your complicated history. He was a god, what was he aware of? You didn’t know and you didn’t want to ask. You did kind of want to shake him and cry though.

Liu was infuriating for the rest of the day as if he were making up for being nice the night before. You’d fought about every crossroad. Fought about when to eat. When to sleep. When to take a break. What kind of tree was on the hill. Everything. Every time one of you opened your mouths it was a fight. He couldn’t be blamed for all of the annoying arguments. You were annoyed too and every so often you caught yourself saying things that you hadn’t meant to say in a tone that was far harsher than you’d meant it to be. You supposed one good conversation wouldn’t eliminate two months of snippiness and one wild night of passionate lovemaking gone wrong.

You tried to remind yourself that Raiden had known you were both grieving and had probably hoped that you would work through some of your grief together. You could picture him saying it. But you also could have strangled him by the end of that first day. On the second morning, you’d meditated on it and decided to focus on patience. You would try to listen to Liu Kang’s suggestions and come to an agreement with him rather than argue with him. But that only worked if Liu wasn’t picking a fight with you. Which he was. He was absolutely picking fights with you. Why was beyond you.

By the second night you were out of patience and had no grace left to deal with him. You had agreed upon a path that morning and he was changing it for the fifteenth time that day. You were tired. The more tired you became, the more aggressive he did. His attitude had drained you and so had the hike. So had the fighting. “If we go up this path then we can shave off some time.”

“Or we could get stuck again and end up backtracking for six hours and since you wouldn’t come with me to get supplies, we’ll run out. Then we’ll have to forage and waste even more time. Is it so much to ask that we just stick to the damn plan?” You were snippy again but tried to check your tone by the time you’d finished speaking.

“You can do whatever you want. I’m going this way.”

That was the problem. Your fighting was less like fighting and more him just being stubborn and obnoxious. You threw your bag down and marched in front of him to stop him from walking. That was it. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. “What is your problem? What is going on with you?” He was taken aback, surprised by your harsh tone. “I get it, Liu. You’re grieving. But you know what? I’m grieving too and your attitude the last couple of days? It’s absurd. You’re being a child. A petulant brat. Here I thought we’d made some headway and then you double down on being a bastard. You have to argue about every single thing. Every single decision is a fight! Then when I’m right you just don’t listen to me! You march off and do your own thing, which would be fine if you were alone or in charge. But you’re not either of those things.”

“Y/N, I…” He was stiff. Rigid.

“It’s exhausting! You are exhausting me! So, please, enlighten me and tell me why it is that you insist on being this exhausting! Why do you keep belittling me and then going out of your way to make this journey so much harder than it already is? We used to be a good team, I thought. We talked, I thought. You even kind of look at me with a little pity before you just…” You clasped your fists and let out a sound of frustration and then felt the blood pressure in your head as you finally breathed. Oops.

Liu was looking down at you, jaw clenched and you expected him to yell at you and correct you on what you thought like he’d done all those years ago when you’d been sleeping together. Your heart raced again as he looked you over.

“Every time I look at you, I see how hurt you are. How much worse I make it.”

You swore steam was coming out of your ears.

“How the fuck is you being an asshole helping any of that?”

“Maybe it’s easier for me to be mean. To argue with you. Maybe it’s better than watching you suffer for the same reasons I’m suffering on top of losing my best friend. And having to remember that I lost you to him in the first place.”

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

“Then thinking about the other night and…”

“Liu, I swear. Don’t do this shit. Don’t. Just don’t.” You pointed an angry and accusatory finger at him and tapped his chest with each of your next words. “Don’t turn this into that. Don’t.”

“You’re the one who got all high and mighty and asked why. I answered.”

“I came to you.” You had not expected to have this conversation with Liu in the middle of the woods or really ever. “I came to you before I gave him an answer. Don’t you dare make me feel guilty about that. I gave you a chance and you were a complete dick. Like wildly…. A dick!” You stuttered in frustration.

“I was a dick, huh?” He laughed in disbelief, rubbed his hand over his jaw, then walked away from you. He returned and pointed at you and then with a smack of his lips he threw his hand in the air as if to say fuck it. “Kung Lao came to me before you did. So yeah, I was a dick.”

“Excuse me?” You did a double take. What was that supposed to mean? Some of your anger deflated.

“Kung Lao… came to me… before… you… did.” He spoke slowly as though you’d had trouble understanding what he’d said. You could have smacked him right in the mouth. “He was already head over heels for you. How was I supposed to compete with that? Asked me if I was working up to something with you since you hesitated to tell him yes. I was honest… to an extent. Didn’t tell him that we’d already been there and done that for months.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was asking to be slapped. Just the way he chose his words and the bite that he spoke them with. It took every bit of your restraint not to just smack him to shut him up.

“I told him I was attracted to you and I’d been thinking about it. Kung Lao asked me to step aside because he thought he could love you.” Liu deflated a little too. The anger he’d built had petered out. Talking about Kung Lao drained him. You were still mad but also shocked. You were lost between being floored by this revelation and furious with his behavior. “So, I did, Y/N. I stepped aside.”

“And you had to be a real dick about it, huh?”

“Yeah. That’s why I was a dick. I watched that one conversation completely destroy our entire relationship. Our friendship.” Liu shrugged and looked suddenly exhausted. “Kung Lao deserved you more than I did. He was ready to jump in headfirst and I was just… nailing you.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and looked away from you but there was something smug about the way he phrased it. Then it was silent.

Where did you begin. Surprised? Confused? Hurt? Speechless? He’d crushed you. You’d thought that you’d had something tremendous and then he had made you feel cheap and worthless. You hated this conversation. You just wanted to be mad and move on. Accept that this wasn’t working and deal with it civilly. But the reasons it wasn’t working were too complicated. “You really hurt me.” You managed but your voice cracked and betrayed you. You were mad, dammit! Don’t cry, brain! You wanted to stomp off yelling about how he had some nerve dragging this baggage into the middle of a three-day hike, but you didn’t.

“It hurt me too, believe it or not.”

This couldn’t have gone worse. You supposed it actually could have but it felt pretty bad. To find out that it had been a lie after years of repeating it in your head? You were devastated. And you had to let it go. You didn’t know what would have happened if Liu had asked you to stay with him instead of being with Kung Lao and it hurt too much to theorize because that wasn’t what had happened. You loved Kung Lao. Your relationship had been far different than the one you’d had with Liu Kang, but you’d loved him nonetheless.

“I…” You began when you realized he was waiting for you to say something, almost desperately and that he had taken a step closer and invaded your personal space. “I’m sorry.” You were though you weren’t immediately sure what for. You just knew you were sorry. Sorry that you’d brought it up. Sorry that it had come to this. “That it wound up like this. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Liu looked past you. “You and Kung Lao were happy for a time.”

“And what about you?”

“Does that matter?”

“Of course, it matters. We were friends first. Even when I was with Lao we were eventually close again.”

“Yeah, well, I was pissed at first. Mad at you. Mad at him.” He turned his gaze back to yours and dared to step closer which made you instantly on alert. It was obvious now that this had been on his mind for some time. You hadn’t considered yourself that important. There had been plenty of moments where things between you had been unsaid. You had never known and had no right to his innermost thoughts. That attraction had never burnt out. Even now, you were torn between smacking him and throwing your arms around him. “With time I realized that all I wanted was for you to be happy. You were happy, right?”

That was a probing question and you hated it. You meant to say yes. You had been happy, but instead you hesitated. Had you been? Of course, not all the time and things had been difficult the past few months, but Kung Lao’s memory was one that you would always cherish as having been happy. “Yeah. Yes.”

That had sounded terrible and forced.

Shit.

You walked away from him and sat down next to where you’d set your bag, defeated. Liu stood awkwardly before tapping a finger against his leg as if deciding if he wanted to pursue this conversation or return to the uncooperative mess that he’d been before. He sat next to you, leaving almost no gap between you. You were either going to have to remind him of your personal boundaries or get used to him being close.

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, Liu.”

“You hesitated like… in a really big way. Weren’t you happy?” He was watching you but when you turned to look at him, he turned away.

“I love…” You hadn’t gotten used to the change in tenses yet. It was painful to misspeak. “I loved Kung Lao, but we were in a weird place before this and I… I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t pretend I do. We fought a lot these last few months over stupid things. Over big things. Over nothing.” You teared up but fought it back. You were not going to cry in front of Liu Kang after he had been a complete ass for two days straight. “And then he died, Liu. And finding out was like losing a part of myself. Something I’ll never get back and must learn to live without. I don’t know what would have happened because that chance was stolen from me. And I won’t complain about it. I won’t… because you lost your brother and I lost… a boyfriend and there’s no comparison.” You hesitated on the words, and you hated that you were struggling to breathe out of your nose. “We’d been together for years but…” You drifted off. The guilt was too much. Did he really expect you to air all of your dirty laundry to him? And why were you? He’d been such a dick.

“But what?”

“I don’t want to say.”

“Did you do something bad?”

“That’s relative.”

“I can help be a deciding factor on that if you like.” He half-heartedly joked but even as he did, he groaned in frustration and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he rested his hand on your arm. “But what, Y/N?”

“I think I might hate you right now.”

“Don’t deflect.”

“Kung Lao proposed.” You hadn’t told anyone that. There was too much guilt for how it had happened. “Right before I left to run that errand.” Liu Kang shook his head as though you had doused him in cold water. “I told him no, not yet. I turned him down. I told him that we would talk more about it when I got back.” The guilt of turning him down and then having him wind up dead was unbearable. “I will live with that guilt forever. The look on his face when I didn’t jump for joy when he got down on one knee with a ring… oh I’ll never forget it.” You shook the image out of your head. You’d had nightmares about it on repeat. You should have just said yes and pretended it was a dream come true. That would have made him happy.

“I’m…” Liu Kang rubbed his temples then started again. “Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I meant what I said. We weren’t ready. We fought literally all the time. We had no clear vision of what our future looked like. We’d never talked about marriage or families or anything like that. On top of that, we were in a weird place. The tournament was coming and I… commitment makes me kind of itchy, you know? I felt like a villain, Liu. I feel like a villain. He just wanted to love me and tease me and be loved by me. That was it. It wasn’t more complicated than that for him.” You were proud of yourself for not breaking down into a sobbing puddle as you spoke. “And he died not knowing any of the reasons that I told him ‘not yet’. He died before we got to figure it out. That was all I wanted. Was time to figure it out. Time for us to just be and to figure out if it was right for us.”

“And now there’s no time.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help it. You were going to cry. You closed your eyes and allowed the tears to gather and tried to keep them from falling. Liu was quiet and contemplative next to you. You’d both thrown huge revelations at each other. It was a lot to process.

You felt like a monster.

“You would have married him, huh?” Liu broke the silence, somewhat bravely you thought.

“I have no idea what I would have done because he’s gone and I’m alone.”

“You would have made him a very happy man.”

“Maybe. Even if I had, I don’t know if it would have made me happy and that kills me.”

“Yeah, that’s the tricky part, I guess.” Liu leaned his elbows on his knees. “You would have done it.”

“Bold of you to assume after everything.”

“I know you. You’re a people pleaser, Y/N.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on. You always folded when you and Kung Lao fought. Even with the big stuff, you just rolled over and let him have his way.”

“I am not arguing with you about this again especially not after losing him.” You’d had this fight before. Liu Kang had always tried to keep you from folding and stick to your guns. You had refused to talk to him about the personal stuff with Kung Lao but somehow Liu had always known when you were upset and managed to get it out of you. He’d always been there, you’d realized.

Guilt.

“If I had known it would end the way it did then I never would have once complained. I would have just made him happy for as long as I could.”

“So, what, only he got to be happy? You’re being ridiculous.”

“Liu Kang! I was happy!” You stared at him aghast. You had been happy. Most of your relationship had been incredibly happy. You’d fought and you’d been hurt sometimes, but that was normal.

“Yeah, except you weren’t sure if you were which is why you hesitated, right? That’s the real reason you turned him down.” There was that snippy tone again and you stiffened up as he grabbed your arm to turn you toward him. “At least have the guts to admit it, Y/N. Don’t fool yourself and definitely don’t try to fool me.”

“Fuck you, Liu.” You pulled your arm free.

“Yeah, that was probably part of the problem too, wasn’t it?”

You smacked him across the face and hard, then pulled your hand back to your chest, surprised you’d done it. He rubbed his jaw that immediately turned red and turned his gaze away from you, nodding his head slowly.

“I deserved that.”

You picked up your bag and walked away from him. You didn’t need this. You didn’t need him rubbing your failures and guilt in your face. You didn’t need him taking his complicated feelings and burying you in them. You didn’t need him making you second guess yourself. Kung Lao was dead. You wouldn’t dishonor his memory with this crap.

You weren’t sure how long you marched away for, but it had been long enough. Leaning your head back, you breathed, and fought tears that you knew you should just let out but god dammit, if Liu Kang followed you and found you crying then you would be furious. The last thing you wanted was his comfort right now. Besides, every time you got close like that you ended up naked and you couldn’t emotionally do that right now!

His comfort was double sided with guilt. There was no comfort for you like this. You leaned against a tree and held your bag close and closed your eyes. Sometime later, Liu Kang joined you but he didn’t try to talk to you even if you could feel him watching you. It took ages but you finally fell asleep, angrily holding your bag against your chest.

Next Chapter >>

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Maybe We Meet Again

My Masterlist

In Another Life (prequel to this)

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: The first part (of two) of the sequel of In Another Life, set in a Modern!AU.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Mentions of death, descriptions of violence and death, major character death (past), nothing else I can think of.

A/N: Hi, idk what you guys were expecting when it came to the follow up for In Another Life, but I hope you like this. Thank you so much for your support in that work and all the others, none of this would be possible without you guys keeping me sane motivated. Love ya.

Taglist: @1950schick @youbloodymadgenius​ @heavenly1927​

Ivar’s gaze is focused on his phone, awaiting his brother’s answer to finally know how much longer will it be before he gets to the café, but something makes him lift his gaze, looking out the window.

He sees you looking positively overwhelmed on a street corner, eyes squinting at a sign, trying to read the name of the street.

Ivar doesn’t know what it is that makes him adjust the crutch in his left arm and stand up to approach you. He doesn’t know, but he doesn’t deny the pull, the whisper that if he doesn’t at least learn your name he will regret it.

“Do you need help?” He asks as pleasantly as he is able to, and based by the grateful smile you offer, even if twinged with embarrassment, he isn’t quite the mannerless grump his brothers make him out to be.

“Is it that obvious?” You huff a laugh at yourself, and continue, “I’m trying to find…”

Your eyes lower to your phone, and with an adorable frown in your nose, you give up on whatever it is you must say, and just show him the screen. The name of the university is familiar, but you are very much lost, it seems, for it is almost on the other side of town.

He tells you that, and tries not smiling at the expression on your face. Gods, you are cute.

“You are not from here.” He states, and you shake your head.

“Here on a scholarship, I’m going to be an assistant investigator in…” Your words die again, as you seemingly try to remember the name of the place you are supposed to be at. But you shake yourself out of that soon enough, and offer a smile, “I’m Y/N.”

The name makes something in him react, awaken. For a moment he tries to remember why, to understand, but it feels like trying to run in a dream, in feels strange and hopeless and out of his reach.

Before you can think him too strange, he tells you his name, and desperately tries thinking of something to say in the awkward silence that follows.

He finds himself asking if you have time for a coffee, motioning absently to the shop behind him, and by some turn of his luck, you say yes.

Ivar finds out soon enough that it is incredibly easy to get you to talk. It works for him, he doesn’t always know what to say, and he knows to most people he seems cold.

But you, you are warm and alive and expressive, and soon enough you are moving your hands excitedly, speaking of finally being granted the opportunity to assist in a dig on a ship burial site. Ivar frowns, and interrupts you with a mumble of your name, still not over the strange thrill that goes over him when sounds out the syllables.

“There’s no sea nearby, how w-…”

“A ship burial doesn’t mean one at sea,” You interrupt softly, eyes shining. After a breath, where it seems your smile trembles on your lips, you add, “Things are not as literal as you think they are, Ivar.”

He tries returning the smile, but his lips part and his breath stutters out.

Why does it feel like he’s forgetting something?

He shakes himself out of it, and leans forward on the table, resting his elbows on it and looking into your eyes.

“So, why all this? Why chase a love story all the way to Bække?”

You shrug your shoulders, a smile that Ivar tries not finding devastatingly adorable playing on your lips, “I don’t like secrets.”

“I don’t think they are keeping it particularly from you.”

“Still. I…it’s a story no one else knows, something that can change how we see the world.” Your eyes are shining in a sort of wonder, of excitement, he has never seen before.

Still, because he cannot help it, he reminds you, “How we see one man.”

“A man that changed the world,” You argue without hesitation, gesturing with your hands as you continue, “Strip away the atrocity, the cruelty, the…otherworldliness of those who are remembered as monsters, and the tale we tell changes, the world changes.

You place your hand over the worn book he saw you carrying, that when he asked you told it was your favorite copy of historical and archaeological records detailing the last years of the Golden Age for Vikings, your eyes fiery as they meet his,

“All we have to remember him by is the legend, the war stories, the chaos he sowed and the death that followed. Even his grave is one of magic, of superstition.”

“But not this one you are working on.”

“Not this one. If I can prove that she was his wife…” A breathed laugh leaves your lips, and Ivar clings to the sound. You bite your lip before insisting, “I just need her name to be the right one.”

“The right one?”

You shrug your shoulders, moving both hands so they are wrapped around your cup of coffee, though your fingers are anxiously tapping at the plastic covering. “His last breath was a whisper of a name. It may not mean anything, but it’s the one lead I have. He may have been a monster, but…he died with a name on his lips.”

“The name of his wife.”

You correct with a shake of your head, “Presumed wife, Rus records only speak of a shieldmaiden that was found dead in his room, before he tore the Rus apart from the inside. Sentimentality makes you think he was avenging her. Logic, on the other hand…”

When your words die with a gesture of your hand, Ivar finishes for you,

“Makes you realize he killed her.”

You nod, a twitch of sadness, a shine of grief in your eyes, before you shake your head at yourself with a sigh.

“The night the world ended.” You quote with a smile that trembles on your lips.

____

If someone were to ask him how life turned out this way, how he got to be here with you and have you love him and let him love you back, Ivar wouldn’t know how to answer.

He’s told you before that maybe it is Fate, that maybe, just maybe, you two were meant to be. Each time he speaks of it, you smile softly, usually shaking your head or kissing him to shut him up, but he sees the tremble in your smile, the curiosity in your gaze, the wondering.

Regardless of how he got here, he for once refuses to overthink this, refuses to let himself be twisted into knots by his own thoughts.

So, because he finds himself missing you -because he wants to, because he can, because he asked you to move in and you said yes- Ivar goes in search of you.

He finds you on the couch, your eyes closed and breathing deep even if your laptop is still open on the coffee table, expecting you to continue work you probably fell asleep doing.

More than a year you’ve dedicated to this dig of yours, this investigation. More than a year, you’ve A part of him torments him with thoughts that you may look elsewhere -both when it comes to a home and when it comes to him- when it is done, but he tries not dwelling much on it.

He whispers an endearment as he presses a kiss right under your ear, a gesture and softness a year ago he never would have believed himself capable of.

“C’mon, wake up, Princess. I can’t exactly carry you to bed.”

“There’s a…bed right here,” You make a vague gesture to the tiny space you leave for him to apparently sleep in, “And there’s a me, and a you.”

Ivar tries replying with a whisper of your name, but Gods, you have him wrapped around your pinky, and your smile stops whatever he was going to insist with.

With a sigh, he sits on the small space you leave, and discards the crutch on the floor at his side. Trying to move you so he can lay down and have you rest on his chest, he once again meets resistance.

“No, no, no,” You mutter sleepily, and stiffen so he can’t maneuver you. “I’m comfy. You leave me be, Lothbrok.”

Our arms lift weakly, inviting him to lay partially over you with his head on your chest. It is inviting, especially with the promise of your fingers running through his hair.

So, he desists and settles in place, pressing a kiss to the center over your heart and laying his head on your chest, his arms going underneath you and wrapped tightly around you.

Ivar closes his eyes, and he can hear it beating under his ear, can hear its rhythm as if he could know it by memory.

He turns his head, and presses another kiss to the skin over your heart.

What he wouldn’t do for that heartbeat.

____

You wake him in the early morning whispering excitedly about the chance to finally go to the site, and insisting that he has to come with you.

“It’s her.” You whisper, and your smile is fucking blinding. When he apparently dwells too long on the warmth of that smile, you insist with an excited pitter-patter of your feet that he gets up.

He does, and gets in the car with you, around curses about the cold that you giggle at, an annoyed furrow in his brow you kiss away, and grumbles about how far away it is that you soothe away with soft kisses.

You get ahead of him when you walk towards the stones embedded on the ground you said are in the shape of a ship, and Ivar limps behind you as you approach the biggest of the stones.

Your hair flows everywhere in the wind, and your arms are wrapped tightly around yourself to ward off the cold.

“The one thing that made him human is here,” You say, and he watches as your left hand raises as if to press your palm against the old stone, before you stop yourself. “The one proof that he wasn’t a…a monster. Just a man.

You chuckle, but it is bitter, sorrowful, pained; and your gaze lowers to the ground.

“Or…he was, until he killed her.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, to that look in your eyes, to that pressure he feels deep in his chest. So, Ivar grabs on tighter to his crutch and moves closer to the pillar.

“‘She will return victorious’.” Ivar reads slowly, feeling a pit of dread at the base of his stomach, like he’s at the edge of a cliff and about to fall, like he knows what it feels to have the world end, like…like he-…

Those that followed him, those that chose their Viking roots over Oleg’s Christian ways, stay quite a distance away, they know better than to approach.

Ivar doesn’t know how much time he has spent sitting on this cold grass engraving with shaking hands the words he tries remembering how to spell.

He knows he’s lost a lot of blood, can feel it, sticky and colder by the minute, pooling underneath him. The one blow that managed to land on him, he wishes he could remember who it was, how it happened.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened between your lips breathing a last kiss over his and the light dying in Oleg’s eyes as his body surrendered to the torture.

Even his hand is bleeding, Ivar notices. He remembers faintly of holding on to a small statue when he was told his father died, he remembers the feel of it breaking the skin.

He could die here, he knows.

If he doesn’t let them approach him, if he doesn’t let them stop the bleeding, he will die here, tired and worn and alone, under a pool of his own blood before a monument of his worst mistakes.

He can close his eyes and he can still feel the fathom touch of your hand on his cheek, can still taste the warmth of your smile pressed against his own lips, can still see your gaze filled with love and the promise of forever.

He can still hear your voice, soft and gentle, the whispered hope that maybe Valhalla is another chance to meet again, that maybe in another life there’s hope for…hope.

He finishes the last of the letters, and he sways forward, brow resting against cold stone.

It would be easy, he gathers, to close his eyes and give in to the lull of the memory of your voice, your touch.

But he refuses to.

Because he can also feel your hand giving one last caress before you sentence you both to die, can still taste the tears in your lips as you promise only death will stop you against his own, can still see your dead eyes staring back up at him, his knife deep in your heart.

And so Ivar drops the blooded iron tool before the words he will pray to his very last breath are true: She will return victorious.

He vowed once he would make the world remember him, but the world ended the night he put a knife through your heart. The world -his world- ended, and he finds with cruel clarity that he wants them all to know what it feels.

He will still be the most famous Viking who has ever lived. He will make them all suffer and pay and die. And they will remember the pain and death and chaos. And he will be a legend, if only one they will whisper in fear for the rest of time, if only the legend of a monster in a man’s skin.

Ivar crawls away from the boat made of stone, certain many will try to stop him, even more will try to kill him. Certain they will fail.

They can’t kill him, don’t they know who he is?

“Are you okay?” Your hand on his back, touch making him realize how quickly his breaths are coming out of him. Bu the can’t-…he can’t get his breathing back under control, he can’t…

He moves back, away from the stone -the monument, the grave- and his hand doesn’t grip correctly at the crutch on his side. Almost all his life with these things, he’s never failed to use them, they work as an extension of him by now.

And he realizes with dawning horror he wasn’t reaching for the forearm crutch he’s used to, he was expecting to find a rougher one, wooden and metal and…Gods, he can feel the pain of those iron braces, he can feel the pressure of the bones that try to break under unfitting contraptions.

He cannot keep the scream from leaving his lips when they set the bone back into place, the pressure building from the inside of his leg and the pain threatening to pull him under.

He feels faintly of your hand on his face, trying to help him feel anything other than pain; hears choppily of your voice by his ear, trying to drown out the beat of his own heart.

He can’t tell how much time passes, all he knows is that your touch and your voice prove to be the only thing keeping him conscious.

“I hate those things.” You mutter sometime in the night, and he opens bleary eyes to watch you gritting your teeth at the iron braces that lie somewhere on his left.

“Necessary.” The word leaves him in a gasp, and is all he can say. Still, the Gods would sooner sew his mouth shut for him to refuse arguing.

You have the look of wanting to argue, he knows it, he knows that fire like he knows himself; but you say nothing.

The fire is a different one, but still scalds, when you press your hand over his chest.

He hears you say his name, or…or he thinks he does, and when he looks at you, your eyes are the same. And…how didn’t he know?

His lips form the shape of your name, but he only rasps out grief, horror, regret, his regret.

Your expression falls, your eyes fill with tears. He knows that look, that shine of devastation in your eyes.

You look at him and he sees it written in your eyes, the plea that he doesn’t ask you to make this choice.

But he cannot go on while the threat of them taking you away from him looms over him. Either he loses you for good now, or they do.

A part of him dreads your answer, and another is already certain what your choice will be.

“I’ll stay,” You sentence, and it feels like breathing for the first time in a century, when he fills grateful lungs with air. “Out of love for you, not for the world you want to build.”

But he cannot keep the coldness of his voice, he cannot keep the venom from his lips. Because even if your choice was to stay, he wants to punish you for even thinking about leaving him behind.

“A world where you happen to be one of the most powerful women. Convenient, isn’t it?”

But even as ice cuts and bruises and breaks the skin, your smile is warm.

“I choose this world not for power, but because I cannot fathom a world without you in it.”

“You remember.” Is all you whisper. And he recognizes that expression in your face too, all he knew was the feeling behind it once. You have the look of someone whose world just ended.

____

Sooooo, what do you think? I’m sorry there isn’t much fluff, I’m not good at it. And I’m sorry it ends in a cliffhanger, that isn’t nice, but the last part (which takes place from the Reader’s perspective) will hopefully come soon.

Thank you so much for reading, I would love to know your thoughts on this one!! Love you!!

Maybe Death Gives Up On Us (sequel to this)

[cassyapper]

Apart from Jotaro and Kakyoin (unfortunately) what are your other favourite jojo ships? I’d love to know

OHHHH POST YOUVE OPENED A CAN OF FUCKING WORMS LET ME GO OFF

i have a disease that makes me invested in the joestars’ happiness to an absurd level so bc of that a lot of ships i enjoy involve,,,one joestar,,,but there r others i swear let me just start rantingi

jonaeriwagon is soooooo so so cute it involves the most wholesome and purehearted jojo characters and it makes me smile so wide. erina and jonathan r childhood sweethearts and erina helped jonathan back on his feet after he lost EVERYTHING in the first fight against dio at the mansion. jonathan and speedwagon are best FRIENDS OKAY!! SPEEDWAGON LITERALLY CHANGES HIS ENTIRE WALK OF LIFE BECAUSE OF JONATHAN AND THE KINDNESS HE SHOWED HIM. i know erina and speedwagon didn't interact a whole lot in part 1 but like they're BEST. FRIENDS. in part 2, so much so joseph thought something was going on between them. i bring this up bc then it’s proof that this ship is full of ppl who just care for each other so much. they just adore each other and love each other and I'm crying

caejoseq is my FAVVV OKAY they're so stupid and in love. i love love love love imagining caesar and suziq falling in love slowly when he’s first training as lisalisa’s student and like they never do anything about it cause they're both so shy (yes caesar is shy bc these feelings r more genuine romance rather than sexual, unlike his other flings) but it’s obvious enough they both understand to a degree the other knows they like them sjkd;dn cuties. but then JOSEPH BARGES IN with his stupid hamon-breathing mask and his stupid blue-green eyes and his stupid lax personality combined with the moments he takes thing seriously during which is works hard as fuck/smart as fuck. he just completely sweeps them off their feet they had no fuckin warning whatsoever. so after a bunch of messy and intense pining from the both of them they eventually sit down and are like okay. we should do smth about feelings actually. so they Do and it ends with the polycule and I'm (”: smiling so wide they loved each other do u understand

AVPOL!! DO NOT GET ME STARTED OKAY it’s the survivor’s guilt and cherishing and longing for me sis!!!!!! I'm just saying both have pasts (araki said avdol’s backstory was so sad he didn't wanna put it into sdc so that’s where I'm drawing this from) that leave them focused on things other than their direct happiness/their own futures but then they connect and even though they're so fucking different they are SOOO different they're still the same on this level and i think!!! that would be everything for them finally someone who understands...listen I'm ging to go insane do you hear me. avdol loves this stupid fucking Frenchman so much because said stupid fucking Frenchman just cares so much about everything. meanwhile polnareff is in love with this fuckin god of a man who’s patient and kind and funny and a skilled enough fighter it’s stated explicitly in canon “oh avdol’s the one we need to worry about most not jotaro” like fuck polnareff is ENAMOURED WITH HIM!! AND I DONT FUCKING BLAME HIM!! and just dude. when pol thinks avdol came back to life and he starts crying tears of joy and hugs him so tightly and avdol just laughs but hugs him back imfmfjfj help. help. help. help. help. POLNAREFF LITERALLY ASKS HIM OUT ON A DATE THIS IS FUCKIN!!! CANON!!! i cant do this stupid fuckign idiots i love them

JOSUYASU!!!!!! TWO GUYS BEIGN DUDES WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT??? like listen we have such a SLEW of wholesome moments between these two the opening to the tonio episode is literally just them going on a date OKUYASU WAS GONNA FEED JOSUKE AND JOSUKE DIDNT EVEN FUCKING QUESTION IT OKAY THAT’S KINDA GAY THAT HAS ROMANTIC FUCKING UNDERTONES!! and them fighting against shigechi idk man i just love their dynamic it’s such a pleasant bro relationship and i love them. but even beyond the wholesome moments when okuyasu fucking dies josuke loses his SHIT!!! DO YOU HEAR ME HE GOES FUCKIGN INSANE!!!!! HE’S SCREAMING AND CRYING AND BEGGING OKUYASU TO WAKE UP AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS LIFE FUCKIGN HAYATO HAD TO SHRIEK AT HIM TO MOVE HIS ASS OUT OF THE WAY OF KIRA’S BOMB LIKE!! listen the recklessness and furiousness of josuke’s tactics after okuyasu “”died”” haunts me. he didn't want to live in a world without him and meanwhile okuyaus LITERALLY TRIUMPHS OVER DEATH BECAUSE HE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE JOSUKE’S SIDE HELP ME GIRL FJKF;NDJN FUCK. fuck. so yeah i lvoe them

fugionara... any combination of this ship makes me go nuts okay okay. the dynamics in the bucci gang will forever leave me in tatters but THE ONES BETWEEN THESE THREE IN PARTICULAR. FUCK ME UP. it’s the healing it’s the animosity it’s the regret it’s the trying to figure out your own mentally ill self while also the world ur in with these ppl u love so much and I'm going crazy okay okay okay. idk how to quite put my feelings for them in worlds i just have a lot of them and they are fuckin. overhwelming. just narancia for example meant EVERYTHING to fugo as evidence by purple haze feedback (literally every other paragraph is a flashback) and the only time giorno cries in the anime is when narancia dies. meanwhile fugo saved narancia’s life and giorno knew when to take narancia seriously as opposed to a joke. and then THE WHOLE DISCUSSION ABOUT GRIEF FUGO AND GIORNO HAVE IN PURPLE HAZE FEEDBACK? listen something about these three make me go insane and feral

foolymes like okay. okay. I'm shaking like a dog trying not to go overboard on this justification just listen to me. hermes and jolyne first find someone to trust in prison in each other. jolyne cares abt her enough that she first learns how to use stone free’s string-on-a-telephone ability bc she wanted to watch over hermes. hermes loves nd respects jolyne that after she wakes up from getting a stand shes like “hm. wonder where jolyne is” and goes to find her before all that bullshit happened just hey okay LISTEN TO ME!! and then they get foo they save her it’s just like fucking kakyoin they give her another chance and they show her what relationships are supposed to be like (fulfilling) they enjoy her company and make her laugh and she makes them laugh in return ohmy god EVERYTHING FOO FIGHTERS DID WAS FOR JOLYNE AND HERMES DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!! the marilyn mansion debt collector arc. the kiss of love and revenge arc. foo fighter’s death. I'm going to eat rocks in an attempt to stop feeling oh my god JOLYNE DIDNT EVEN BELEIVE FOO FIGHTERS WAS DYING AND THEN SHE GOT HYSTERICAL LIKE “BUT WE CAN JUST REMAKE YOU RIGHT WE HAVE YOUR STAND DISC??” SHE DOESNT WANT HER TO GOOO HELP ME HELP ME. I'm in tatters these three girls loved each other so fucking much they just wanted each other safe and they DESERVED to be safe and happy together but araki is fucking evil

jotaweather I KNOW THIS IS A CRACK SHIP I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW DONT FUCKIGN LOOK AT ME JUST HEAR ME OUT. jotaro and weather r both of similar demeanor that is quiet soft-speaking intimidating strong big aura of sadness coming from them. both have powerful stands and both had real fucked up luck in the love department. i also hc both to be autistic so that’d be another similarity. i jus think them settling down together after everything went down in a stone ocean au would be very soft and sweet yknow? they wouldn't even necessarily start it off in a romantic sense but they just take the time to try and heal with each other and eventually it just kinda veers that way. yeah

gyjo for OBVIOUS reasons like are you serious? gyro changed johnny’s fucking lfie from the SECOND they first interact johnny begins to push himself and tries to reach further/go further. and in turn johnny shows gyro you cant always be a wet blanket you need to take a stand this both helps his resolve to save the kid AND helps him to take the measures necessary to get to his goal. like gyro would not have been able to find johnny in the “who shot johnny joestar?” arc if he hadn't gone through, say, the ring roadagain arc with johnny first. listen man their relationship is literally the catalyst for this whole part it’s the driving force i just. they love each other they love each other thank you goodnight I'm emo

yasugap is just so so so so sweet it makes me so happy,,like okay josuk8 literally has a daydream where all that happens is he gives yasuho some candy and she eats it and is like “aw josuke this is so good thanks!” and she smiles at him and that’s IT THAT’S THE DAYDREAM 😭 listen they just love each other so much and i am emo. they literally SAVED EACH OTHER OKAY LIKE yasuho pulls him from the dirt and like she mentioned during the flashback chapter with the hairpin and her dad, it was also the other way around....saving josuke also saved herself and just LISTEN TO ME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. it’s a very sweet and healthy relationship and i hope to god araki makes it canon please sir ill bite you

anyway yeah these are the main main ones ? that i ship ship. like you'll get me excited if u mention them. anyway this post has gone on long enough so I'm gonna end it here by saying i really do have a thing where the relationship focuses on healing/helping one or both parties to save/improve themselves

[jjmaebank]

wish you were gay - jj maybank

A/N: So I wrote this based off my own first heartbreak haha fun! Yeah fr, this all comes from the heart and I literally poured my real emotions and experience into this so it’s really special to me. The song ‘wish you were gay’ by Billie Eilish just reminds me of it cuz I listened to it on repeat getting over it and I related to it. If you haven’t heard it I highly recommend! Also italics are flashbacks!

Summary: you and JJ had something you thought was real, you fell for him and you thought he’d fallen for you too, but this becomes an evident lie as he makes a rash decision that ends in disaster.

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Words: 1,802

+

Heartbreak. Heartbreak is a perpetual feeling that something bad is about to happen. It’s grief, fur-lined with fear that joy has forever escaped you, that there will be no happily ever after for you. Heartbreak is a tightness in your chest; it makes air feel like razor blades moving through you. It’s waking up in the morning and having three seconds where you don’t remember, and those three seconds will be the only part of the day where the dread doesn’t sit and fester in your gut.

Heartbreak was what you were feeling. After a full day of acting alright, like everything was fine and going back to normal, you’d go home and cry. You’d cry until your body was physically exhausted, to the point where you had no tears left, to the point where your face was sore. You’d cry until you felt physically and emotionally drained and then you would just lay in your bed staring up at your blank ceiling, basking in your own self-pity.

What had gone so terribly wrong? You couldn’t wrap your head around it even weeks afterwards. It kept you up at night, gnawed at you incessantly, played in the back of your mind constantly. Were you unlovable? Were you never going to be good enough for anyone? Why was it that everyone you let in pushed you away, abandoned you as soon as you let your guard down?

+

You and JJ were lying on John B’s couch after a night of partying, the both of you still a little drunk. You were wrapped up in his arms as he stroked your hair and placed sweet kisses on your forehead. You looked up at him in adoration and placed your hands on his bare chest.

“(y/n),” he said nervously, meeting your gaze.

“Yes?” You smiled, his anguish causing your heart rate to quicken.

“I’ve just been thinking, like…we’ve been messing about for a while now…and I guess I uh don’t really know what we are, but I know that I um…like you, like a lot…” he blabbered, removing his hand from you waist to scratch the back of his neck.

You continued staring at him, your mouth curling up in a smile as you felt him squirm underneath you as he tried to pluck up the courage to say what he’d been meaning to for weeks now.

“I guess…I uh guess this is me asking whether you wanna go out with me?” He asked, avoiding eye contact, too scared to see your reaction.

You grabbed his chin gently and tilted his head down to look at you.

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You smiled. You’d wanted to hear those words for a while now.

“I- uh, yeah,” he replied nervously.

“Well then, yes,” you grinned, watching his eyes widen and his cheeks go crimson.

“Yes? As in yes you want to be my girlfriend?” He stuttered.

“What else would I be saying yes to you dumbass,” you chuckled, making him go red.

He pulled you into a tighter embrace, his whole being consumed by joy.

“Thank god,” he gasped, “that shit was scary.”

+

You remembered that night clearly, you’d never been so elated. The confusion and uncertainty between the two of you completely erased as you finally confessed your feelings for one another. You’d never felt so good in your life. You loved him, you hadn’t told him that yet, but he wanted you to be his girlfriend and that was enough for you at the time. You finally got the clarity you needed, that he was yours and you were his and nothing would change that…or so you thought.

It didn’t take long for things to go south between you and JJ, perhaps a little over a month. One of the best months of your life soon turned into the worst, all in one night.

+

“What is up with you?” You yelled at JJ. He’d been ignoring you all week, coming up with excuses not to see you and avoiding your texts and calls.

“I’ve just been busy, alright!” He yelled back, his voice laced in frustration. He was keeping something from you.

“Bullshit, J! You’re not too busy for John B, for Pope, for Kie! You’re apparently only too busy for me!” You shouted. “What aren’t you telling me?”

JJ sighed and sat down on John B’s couch, running his hands through his messy hair.

“Did I do something?” You whispered, sitting down across from him.

“No…no…” JJ shook his head, staring down at the wooden floorboards.

“Then what is it?” You pleaded, your voice threatening to crack at any moment. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore?”

“I fucked up (y/n)…” JJ said, finally looking up at you. His eyes showed pity, guilt even.

Your heart felt like it had sunk to your feet. What did he mean he fucked up? Had he cheated? A million thoughts raced through your mind as you processed his words.

“W-what do you mean?” You stuttered, your heart now beating at a speed you didn’t know to be humanly possible.

“I lied to you (y/n),” his lip trembled; he was holding himself back from crying. You’d only seen JJ cry once, after telling you about his father, so it scared you that he was showing signs of it again.

“You lied? What do you mean you lied, JJ?” You asked, your voice raised yet still shaky.

“I told you I wanted you to be my girlfriend,” he stated, his eyes still glazed with guilt.

Your breath hitched as you took in his words. Out of the million things that had crossed your mind, this was not one of them.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n), I really thought I wanted this…” he continued, his voice strained. “We had a lot of fun and I really like hanging out with you, but I just…I can’t do this…us…”

You felt sick. You felt a sob making its way up your throat as you felt your heart breaking, shattering into tiny pieces.

“So this was all a lie?” You choked, “I never meant anything to you?”

You could see the hurt in his eyes seeing what he’d done to you.

“I’m so, so sorry (y/n),” he shook his head, “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Bullshit!” You stood up from your seat, tears streaming down your face. “You don’t just fuck with someone’s feelings on accident!”

“We were drunk (y/n)!” JJ stood up. “I thought I knew how I felt, but I didn’t and I’m sorry! I was wrong okay? Fuck! I was wrong!”

“Alcohol doesn’t give you feelings for someone out of the blue, JJ,” you cried, “so you must’ve lied that night. You must’ve lied right to my face when you told me you liked me! When you told me you wanted me to be yours!”

You could barely see through your tear coated eyes and the taste of salt stung your lips.

JJ simply stood there in silence, shame overcoming him. He knew he was an idiot and he hated himself for it. He cared for you, he really did, but he knew leading you on anymore would just hurt you more than he already had.

“I just don’t think I’m a relationship type of guy (y/n)…I’ve tried but I can’t be the guy you want me to be… I’m sorry…” he sighed, sticking his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, biting his lip and sniffling.

“To think I was going to tell you I loved you…” you muttered, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

JJ’s eyes widened at your confession, “(y/n)…I-”

“Save it, JJ,” you interrupted, “You’ve made it very clear how you feel.”

“I’m so sorry, so fucking sorry,” he mumbled, letting a single tear slip down his cheek.

“I really hope you are,” you cried grabbing your stuff, “and I hope that you never do this to anyone ever again.”

+

JJ Maybank had broken your heart, that was a fact. The first boy to make you feel wanted, worthy, was the same to absolutely ruin you. You spent countless nights crying yourself to sleep, blaming yourself for what had happened, convincing yourself that you could never be loved. You had to spend time away from the pogues at first, you couldn’t bear to see JJ, you wouldn’t let him see what he’d done to you just. For him to pity you.

You were so embarrassed by what had happened that you longed to blame it on anything other than the truth, the truth that JJ simply didn’t love you and he never would. But what hurt the most was thinking that he could have. The time you spent together felt so real that you couldn’t comprehend how he could discard it with such ease, just pretend like it had never even happened. He’d given you a taste of the happiness you’d craved so dearly and then ripped it away from you in the blink of an eye, that’swhat hurt the most.

What a fool you were, thinking a boy notorious for one night stands and meaningless hook ups could ever settle down permanently with the likes of you. You dreamed of being the one who he came to when he was sad, of being the first person he confided in after a beating from his father, but that’s all it was, a dream. He hardly let you in, despite your many efforts. The truth was you weren’t the first thing he thought of when he woke up, or the last thing before he fell asleep. He didn’t fantasise about your lips and the way it felt to kiss you, or how it felt to hold you or hear you laugh; he took you for granted.

You wished you could have been that girl in the movies, the girl that gets the player to change his ways and fall for her, the girl that makes him never want to be with anyone else ever again, but you weren’t her and you never would be.

+

A/N: whoooosh I haven’t written in a good 2 weeks or something so idk there you have it

Taglist: @poguemacking @thebutterflyonhischest @milaonthemoon @jayjaymaebank @outrbank @popesscholarship @teenwaywardasgardian @baby-bearie @dpaccione @raekenliar @decap-quadrant @queenniccimicci @alterkitty @beautyandthebleh @maaybanks @obx-sos @calumbroutledge @damonsalvawhore27 @shawnssongs @drew-starkey @flowersinvegas @kiarasflowr @thelocalpogue @prejudic3

If you want to be removed from my tag list at anytime just drop me and ask or message me! No offence taken lol. And if you want to be added just click the link in my bio :))

[kittyanonymity]

Team Miraculous

So uh, this was actually an accident. IDK about you guys, but I cried like a baby writing this. Always Find me Here by Transit was a heavy inspiration so maybe listen to that; also Already Over by Red. Uhhh, sorry for the angst?? 

Also this IS mlb X DC. Also also probably a one shot. 

Nevermind, here’s Part 2 lmao Part 3 

And the Actual Story: Ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Ladyblog goes live with a video.

Rena Rouge sits in front of what has to be a go pro, given the video quality; the girl is battered, bruises marring her skin, and tears are running down her face, mixing with the blood leaking from her lip. She takes a shuddering breath.

“My name is Rena Rouge, but you guys know me better as Alya Césaire. I… I don’t know why I’m telling you this now. If the code is… correct, and I did this right, then this is broadcasting internationally, despite the media blackout; and I’ll never be Rena again after this.” She sighed, her breath catching, “I just… I wanted the world to finally hear us.” Rena looked back at the camera, her eyes narrowed in rage. “For four years, Paris has been under siege by Hawkmoth, a supervillain wielding a magical broach, and his accomplice, Mayura. We’ve tried contacting the Justice League for assistance, only to be met with scorn. We-” Rena’s voice broke, and she grit her teeth, “We needed the help. Today, Paris burns.” She stands, her legs shaky, and she grabs the camera, turning it to the window of her room.

And Paris is on fire.

The Eiffel Tower is half collapsed in on itself in the distance, and the seine has flooded. Screams are faintly picked up by the microphone, and then Rena sniffles, and the camera comes back to her.

“Ladybug knows who Hawkmoth is. This marks the final battle, and I-” Her voice catches again, and her tears come fresher, more quickly, “I just want my parents to know I love them; my sisters too. I don’t know if we’ll make it out of this.” Her eyes fall, “Chat didn’t. We’re just a bunch of kids, why do we have to stop a madman?!” She’s screaming by the end of it, her chest heaving, and finally, she takes a shuddering breath, and wipes her eyes. Rena’s stare hits the camera hard.

“My name is Rena Rouge, and we have a job to do. Ladybug told me this video was ok; after today, none of us will be active. And if the League is watching…” Her eyes narrowed, “This is what you called a joke.”

The camera turns again, and with a few clicks, it’s secured around Rena’s chest. The heroine opens the window in front of her, leaping out into the dark Parisian morning. She runs across the rooftopss fluidly, until she comes upon a group.

Ladybug, Hornet, Carapace; Ryuuko, Viperion, Squeak; King Monkey, Pegasus, Bunnix; even Tora.

But no Chat Noir.

Ladybug nods at her as Rena lands; their leader is the most beat up out of all of them, her suit torn in places, leaking blood from her various cuts. Yet she stands with her back straight, despite the quiver Rena notices in her best friend’s lips. The camera is staring at Ladybug, but Rena looks at Carapace; her boyfriend hasn’t stopped crying, face set in an anguished scowl.

Alya doesn’t know how they’ll ever come back from this; the team. Her friends.

Ladybug breathes.

“This is it.” She says it quietly, but they all hear her; the world hears her.

Ladybug smiles, but it’s not even close to positive, “You have all fought by my side consistently since we were 13 years old; and I-” Her voice breaks, tears swelling in her eyes, as her hand clutches at something next to her; someone who is no longer there. “And I am honored to have known all of you, both in mask, and out. Hawkmoth has- he’s-” Ladybug grits her teeth, baring her teeth, and biting her lip until she bleeds; her voice comes out choked, “He has taken someone very dear from us; from all of us. Chat- Adrien- he was my best friend. I loved him, just like we all did.” Marinette’s breath caught, “And he’s gone. But we owe it to him to finish this. To bring that man to justice.” Her fists clenched at her side, and Rena watched as Ryuuko held Hornet close to her, the two girls crying; Rena made sure the camera saw too.

Let the world witness what they suffered.

Ladybug sighed, drawing her attention once more.

“And we will. This will end today, one way or another. I…” Pausing, Ladybug’s tears came back with a vengeance, “I cannot promise we’ll survive, you guys. I am… so so sorry.”

Ladybug turns her back, “And if you’re still with me now, then follow.” And then she leapt from the building, her yo-yo swinging out, and propelling her forward.

Towards the Agreste house.

One by one, Rena watched the heroes follow her, until she was left alone on the roof. She watched her teammates, her friends go ahead of her, and finally Alya sighed.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, Bug.”

And then she was off, catching up with her team.

The fight was messy.

Knowing where to find Gabriel was easy of course, and the world watched, horrified, as this man commanded dominion over the citizens free will; demanded they fight the heroes. By the time Ladybug and her team reached Hawkmoth’s lair, the sun had risen.

They’d cornered him in the basement, next to his wife’s coffin.

And Ladybug didn’t hold back.

“How could you!” She screamed, grief coating her words as she pulled the yo-yo tighter around Hawkmoth, “He was your son! And you killed him!”

“I didn’t know!” He roared back, and Rena was fast, but Ladybug was always faster. The girl’s fist lashed out, colliding with the man’s cheek so hard he fell to the side; Mayura yelped where Tora had her restrained.

Hawkmoth’s miraculous fell off, and Gabriel Agreste was laid bare before the world. Ladybug’s chest heaved as she took deep breaths, and then she bent down, and collected the broach; cradling it delicately. Like it was reverent.

“You have murdered my master, and your son, Gabriel. What do you have to say for yourself?” The man on the floor sobbed.

“I just wanted my wife back…” And Ladybug’s heart ached for the broken family at her feet.

But it didn’t excuse what he’d done.

Rena watched Ladybug turn to Mayura next, watched her walk over, and remove the peacock pin; Nathalie was let in her place, and Marinette growled.

“You’ll both be turned into the authorities.”

She stepped away, holding the red and black speckled object in her hands; Ladybug sighed, and mournfully, she whispered,

“Miraculous Ladybug.”

The swarm of ladybugs surrounded all of Paris, undoing the damage, the death, and Rena raced to the surface to witness it. Citizens milled about, many shocked and upset.

But there was one person who would not be back.

For when someone dies wearing their miraculous, their soul is claimed by it, and they become a part of it for the next holder.

Adrien Agreste would never wake.

Rena watched from the roof as the police showed up, and Ladybug escorted Gabriel out of the house along with Mayura.

They’d done it.

They’d won.

“Alya?”

Rena turned, and the camera was looking at Carapace as he walked up to her, and then Alya was crying.

“Nino, it’s over. We did it!” She sobbed, her hands coming up to cover her eyes, “But why doesn’t it feel like we won?” Nino pulled her into a tight hug, the camera pressed against the green of his suit.

“We’re all going to miss him Alya. There’s… There’s no replacing him.” Alya shook her head, her cries increasing.

“He didn’t deserve that, Nino! He- he-!” Nino held her tighter, burying his head in her shoulder.

“I know babe, I-I know…”

That was how the others found them, each hero joining them until finally Ladybug did as well. She only nodded, and they all left together, heading for the warehouse district.

Once they were secure, Ladybug turned to them, her expression pained.

“It’s time, guys.”

Rena watched as, one by one, each of them removed their Miraculous.

Kim and Max were first, King Monkey and Pegasus falling away; next was Tora, Juleka taking her place. Squeak goes next, and Rose is giving Mullo a teary good bye. Bunnix sighs, and then Alix is standing there, rubbing at her eyes. Luka hands his over with no preamble, giving Ladybug a small smile, and bidding Sass farewell. Ryuuko and Hornet both go next, and Kagami and Chloe hold hands while they give Ladybug their Miraculous; Pollen hugs her Chosen one more time before fading away. Nino goes next, handing Marinette the bracelet with a sad smile.

“Is… Is his ring safe?” Ladybug bites her lip as her eyes well with tears, and she only nods. Nino nods and moves aside, and now it’s only Ladybug and Rena, the others watching.

Rena smiles.

“You know I love you right, Nette?” And Ladybug’s eyes go wide behind her mask, and then she’s crying again. Alya reaches up, and removes the necklace, the magic falling away from her. The camera continues to roll. She hands over the jewelry, giving Trixx one last hug as they go.

But Alya is crying, staring at the girl who has been her hero and best friend for the last four years; the girl who has literally carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Ladybug finally nods, a pained look on her face.

“I know, Alya. I love you too.”

And then Ladybug is turning, a portal opening up in front of her.

“I’ll… see you guys sometime.”

And then the portal closes and Ladybug - Marinette - is gone; and Alya’s knees hit the concrete of the warehouse as her body shakes with the force of her cries.

The stream ends as the battery on Alya’s go pro dies, and the world echoes with the cries of a broken girl.

It is silent otherwise.

Bruce Wayne clutches the remains of a shattered glass in his hand as the broadcast ends. The blood on his hands has long since dried.

He needs to make a call.

END? NOPE!

Part 1 :HERE: Part 2 Part 3

Ao3

[grade-a-masochist]

Okay, so things I have figured out during my Teen Wolf Rewatch

Honestly, Stiles's Jeep is tougher than half the assemble combined

I flicker between profound like and even more profound dislike for Allison and honestly, 9 year old me would be weeping

The more I remember why Derek is, y'know, Derek—the more I wanna give Kate her own Tara

I just finished season two and I'm actually kind of impressed at how they've set down the groundwork for some of the events of season three

Deaton was?? So fucking mysterous??? Like, get on my level, creepy Hales

The whole Lydia-is-immune crap is so funny in retrospect because ooh, boy, she sure as hell ain't

Peter is a hella good character and I just can't bring myself to hate him though trust me—I have tried

Okay I already said it but I kinda wanna beat Allison with Stiles's bat. The metal one, not the wooden one

Honestly Scott is the most cunning dumbass and I feel we overlook the first part of that statement a lot?

Someone give Derek those years of therapy he needs so he can give Isaac the support my poor pup needs

Or, you know, Scott can do it, too, I'm not picky

Just someone—help that poor boy

(I know it doesn't really happen and it hurts)

I love Coach like thrice as much this time around??? Idk don't ask me

And I appreciate Chris as a parent like, cubed

Honestly if Peter had bitten Stiles and not Scott, shit would have gone down thrice as much and Peter would not stare at Stiles as though to ask "Why the fuck haven't you taken the bite yet???" during the next three seasons

Jackson came out just like his alpha—dramatic. AF

I wanna smack Erica and Boyd for being idiots but I also whimper and mumble about "My pups, my poor pups"

(I am choosing to chalk that up to the constant fever)

Scott has grown so much?? I am so fucking proud??

And Stiles, too

Jury is still out on Allison

Victoria Argent was scarier than all the scary shit in Teen Wolf and honestly what the fuck

Like?? Lady??? Lady are u alright

Also I'm glad Isaac's dad is dead and gone and honestly, pat on the back for you, Matt

The effects used to be sooo crappy man. We sure have evolved a lot

Also remember when the biggest problem Scott had was avoiding the cool kids? Yeah me too

Melissa McCall is a fucking blessing

Sheriff Stilinski, too

Give those guys a cookie

Edit:

Jennifer is such a good actress? The character, I mean. Like, wow. Give the woman an oscar

I had completely forgotten how under all that sarcasm, persistent negativity and occasional puppy-like behavior, Isaac's got some serious sadistic tendencies going on

Also the reason why Isaac and Stiles get along worse than Scott and Jackson is because the two are pretty fucking similar

Derek loved his pack of self-esteem-deprived adolescents a lot, okay, even if he had a HELLA weird way of showing it. Like, dude; therapy

I knew this for a fact, sure, but you can see it so fucking clearly when he's desperate to get Boyd and Erica back even if they willingly left him. For all intents and purposes, they're not his responsibility anymore. But he cares, so he keeps searching and looking, and the devastated look on his face when he cradles Erica's dead body is actually painful. You can see his grief. And you can see his life even more when "Survivor #1" Derek Hale lets Boyd and Cora fucking maul him half to death without hurting them. He just ...lets them unravel. Because he'd rather die at their hands than kill them. And I think that's beautiful

Peter and Stiles might actually be the ones I find funniest in the whole show and I don't know how I feel about that

Can someone give Kali some shoes and tell her that she doesn't need to hop through life with her claws on display? They aint that pretty sis

Scott's tattoo is still amazing, thank you very much

Stiles can't catch a break and honestly, fuck you, writers

How come it takes everyone in every show 178939 episodes to figure out what in fuck is going on and Stiles has got it right on episode three

Like wow the only competent decision Peter's ever made is offering that kid the bite

(Making terrible decisions runs through the Hale blood, okay)

Might I just say I really, really love Lydia's banshee arc

Like, WOW IT'S ONE OF MY FAVES

I'm just watching this and remembering the glorious time when Alphas were still worth something

Like, wtf now any random creature magically matches up when before having red eyes immediately made you more or less the equivalent to an angry lion while everyone else is, like...a dying baby sheep

Yeah, no

I already said this but it's worth repeating: Scott McCall can be one hell of a cunning, clever little shit when he wants to be. If he had Stiles's morals? I'd be scared for the world. It's a very, very good thing things are the way they are, or Peter would've had a fucking blast

The effects? Much better. Could use some work? Definitely. Do I choose to ignore it? Yup

Isaac's bond to Derek is sometimes sweet and powerful (c'mon, he's the first beta, he's special) sometimes just...dude you shouldn't have said yes honestly

I am not looking forward to next episode. At all. Derek will be a bad, bad Alpha and I do not like it.

Is it bad that I took pleasure in Allison finding out how the fuck her mother got herself killed? Yes. Do I actually feel bad? Ha—no

The true alpha plot line always makes me think of this one small moment in season one, when Peter makes Scott shift in the school. For a moment, his eyes flashed red—that never happened ever again with any other beta when they were forced to turn

[septiembrre]

Every even number for get to be mine.

OH MY GOD, THIS IS OVERWHELMING!!!! But, I’m going to do it anyway because I LOVE Get to Be Mine. This story is everything to me -- like it is seriously my most favorite daydream -- and I need to get over myself and write the next chapter. I’m just a little intimidated about what I want to get done and stalling because of it. 

Which scene was your favorite to write in Get To Be Mine?

I love writing all the Beth/Rio scenes confrontations. Oh god, I just went to go to pull a quote and now here’s this too-long thing:

“Oh my god. Don’t be—” her voice lowers to a whisper, even though there’s no one around to overhear, “—indecent.”

“You started it.”

“I was talking about actual muffins.”

Rio’s still snickering as he asks, “What else you got?”

“Well, again you said had said our first date was at a bar? Where were you going with that?” Well, she knows. Half of their interactions have been at a bar, his bars. The other half on park benches and picnic tables.

“Oh yeah, your old story. One-night stand—excuse me, day stand. I fucked you on top of your blueberry pancakes? I mean that’s not exactly appropriate for our future company, either.”

It’s an admission of his own.

In a kind of distant, disassociating way, she can acknowledge that Rio’s point tally has just superseded hers by a million. There will never be hope of point recovery. She really doesn’t have the emotional energy to finish this conversation. So, it just comes out.

“He told you?”

“Yeah.” Rio bites his lip, nodding. Her eyes can’t help but zero in, even while experiencing unprecedented levels of distress. She tries to summon her strength as Rio says, “Good story, though.”

I’m obsessed with writing this shit. Their scenes are getting WAY out of hand. The above is only a rather tiny fraction of an absurdly long scene. Thanks to everyone who sits through reading this monster.

I also am enjoying branching out a bit and writing the Ruby+Annie+Beth interactions, Beth+Marjorie and Beth+her kids. It will come as a surprise to no one but I love writing Beth in relation to other women. 

If you could change anything in Get To Be Mine, what would it be?

Lol, I’d re-write the whole first fucking chapter and give it a much more realistic timeline. 

I also started this fic without having plotted much of it. I was sure at the time it would be a three-parter (jajajaja as if!). It wasn’t until @foxmagpie prodded me with many helpful, gracious questions that I finally was pushed to more fully outline GTBM and well, now it’s fully plotted. 

I try not to be too hard on myself for it but I worry folks won’t be able to get past the first chapter, and I do wish I would have realized that outlines are my friends and totally accessible to me before I did. But, it’s okay! I’ve learned now at least.

Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in Get To Be Mine?

Lollll, the issue with Get To Be Mine is that I have absolutely no control and really struggle with cutting anything from it -- especially dialogue. Idk, I’m the type of person to have three-hour-long conversations on the phone with my friends and all of this is exactly how I’ve ended up with these hideously long conversations in the fic but, it is what it is. The dialougue makes me so happy. 

Hm... I’m trying to think of a juicier detail. I did almost cut this Ruby+Beth+Annie scene I ended up enjoying a ton. 

"And that was two years ago,” Beth adds. “Before all the nasty, terrible stuff. We don’t even know if he’s ever, you know…” Her mouth opens making what she’s sure are ridiculous configurations as she flounders, “ —cared.”

Annie’s jaw hangs open for a moment. Then she pulls it together and addresses Ruby first, “Okay, I love my sister, so stop trying to guilt me. Maybe what they need is to finally fuck again and get over whatever this is.” Ruby raises her eyebrows, considering Annie’s point but with a formidable amount of hesitation, as Beth splutters indignantly again.

Annie turns to her sister. “And Beth, I know homeboy has been super shady about his feelings but he has them.” Beth shakes her head, but Annie nods adamantly back at her. “They are in there somewhere because, bizarrely, we are all still alive.”

She pauses to knock on the wooden surface of the worktable, and murmurs a quick, Rest in peace, Lucy. Ruby crosses herself. For a second, Beth’s stomach plummets, and fuzzy words for an old prayer tug at her brain. She curls her fingers around the edge of the table to steady herself, focusing on the sturdy wood top as she processes what Annie said. Somehow despite the grief and all of the terrible things, it feeds the kernel of warmth inside of her.

“Is he the ideal romantic prospect? Nope, definitely not.” Annie’s lips pop and enunciate the ‘puh’.  Beth marvels at how her little sister can always find room for irreverence. “And no matter how this fake-dating sitch goes, I have to make it clear that you are not allowed to become his wife-in-crime or whatever. But, maybe you guys can go through the motions—” Annie thrusts a little with her hips, rocking on the stool. “Bone, y’know.”

Which came first, the title or the fic?

The fic! 

I had been thinking about a fake-dating Beth/Rio premise for months. Then, a fake dating prompt was listed in the GG Ficathon last May so I claimed it as a way to get myself to finally write this out. I had never written anything longer than 4k or a multi-chapter and at the time I was really scared to claim what I had then imagined would be a three-parter. I had never thought I could ever outline something, much less pull together multiple arcs or incorporate themes. 

*laughs nervously* Technically, I still haven’t but I’m on my way. And, GTBM won’t be perfect when it’s all done but it’s so much fun. I love it. It’s my 2020 comfort puzzle. 

What are some facts readers may not know about Get To Be Mine?

I don’t know if this will truly surprise anyone but I am really loving exploring:

- Beth intentionally parenting and thinking through how to be closer to her children

- Beth’s friendship with Ruby, and her relationship with Annie

- Beth finding her footing in independence

- Beth building a new friendship with Marjorie, a legitimate cool person who is not part of the PTA crew/Beth’s old bubble. 

- Beth being pushed to think about her own grief from her childhood and her compartmentalization of her mother’s death through witnessing the Vandenberg siblings grieve their own mother who passed at a more natural time in life. 

- Beth low-key exploring more about her own pleasure aka masturbating in the peace and quiet of her new apartment. Hahahaha. I worry about her and how much stress I give her in my fics, and try to balance it with moments of respite, too. 

ANYWAY! Thanks, everyone for coming to my rant about Get To Be Mine. Always down to talk meta about it. 

[ayymanwtf]

im in an aesthetic writing mood which, im quite aware is nothing like my usual content but im a limitless being and you should probably accept that. please?

anyway here are the aesthetics that some of my fave mgk songs have:

FLOOR 13 — drunkenness, trembling hands covered in blood, the source of it unknown, stumbling through an abandoned psych ward of a hospital, feeling the floor beneath you move in waves, rocking from wall to wall of the narrow corridor, seeing a figure resembling the one person on your mind at the end of the hallway, white knuckles gripping the steering wheel, pushing as hard as you can on the pedal of a car, eyes glassed over, the curve of the road not being the only unstable thing, dizziness, experiencing jealousy for the first time, getting in trouble on the playground and trying to excuse your actions, vodka swirling in a crystal tumbler, you’ve lost count of how many you’ve had, sipping it and thinking its water, mysterious white powders sprinkled on glass tables, looking out the balcony of a hotel, the curtains fluttering in the evening breeze, the first moment of serenity in a while, begging for them to come back, regret

LOCO — return, amusement, superiority, seeing a person you used to know and immediately judging them on how they turned out, cracking your neck too hard and feeling it ache, liking the feeling knowing it was the first time you’d felt something in a while, the concept of exoticism, ruining someone else for your own entertainment, not caring despite knowing, the kind of sex that is derived from pure anger and resent, anger and resent for someone else, but still leaving the new person heartbroken, new beginnings and sealed endings, rekindling with your old friends, only to end it all to see the looks on their faces, a blunt laced with gold, pushing someone off you too hard and hearing them wince, internalised desperation, numbness, living life with anger and thinking its the only option

Death In My Pocket — the clouds during a sunset, experiencing grief for something you never had, reminiscence, mourning the life you could have had, a silver flute crushed under your boot, cleaning up the wounds on your knuckles yourself and remembering a time when someone else would have done this for you, stepping outside for the first time in months and feeling the sharp wind on your cheeks and still not feeling anything, running away from nothing at dawn, begging and bargaining, leaving the house on your own for the first time and witnessing things you never wished you had, diving into an icy cold lake, exhaling reflexively once your face reaches the water, feeling your lungs burn for oxygen underwater, and still not coming up until you feel them fill with liquid, wetting the shoulder of a stranger with your tears, asking why, asking why, asking why, again and again, feeling pain and wondering when the next time will be that you forget this feeling

RAP DEVIL — piano and bass chords combined, welcomed confusion, betrayal, feeling someone sit on your lap and wanting to throw them off you, repetition, de ja vu, anarchy, rebellion, standing up against bitchy old people, leaving your respect behind to do whats right, being drunk at a party and hearing all the songs around you meld and blend until everything sounds the same, someone telling you to smile more, accidentally saying the wrong thing and hurting someone’s feelings, eventually accepting and standing by your words once you find out who they truly are, refusing to ask for forgiveness, eating the rich and remembering to season them, childhood shows with creepy ulterior meanings, burying an enemy, misconceptions, idolising your father until you realise his neglect, snapping someone’s neck and feeling no guilt 

LATELY — clocks ominously ticking, reminding you of the time youre wasting, taking LSD for the first time, seeing the world swirl and mix around you, looking in the mirror after taking acid and seeing the most genuine version of you, ghosting and then sending I miss you texts to the same person, experiencing nostalgia with anger instead of contentedness, falling asleep in a cold hotel room and seeing your worst fears come to life before your eyes, empty rooms and bare faces, singular drops of blood dripping from your palms once a day, looking directly into the sun and thinking about how the moon harnesses that much light, dancing on the dance floor and mid-song feeling your social battery die and wanting to go home, asking someone to help and them leaving you on read, doing shrooms and feeling like you’re sat inside of a rapidly spinning washing machine, knowing that nothing will ever be the same and still denying that fact

el Diablo — a casino in the middle of the deserts of Nevada, Mexico at the peak of its drug war, playing poker with blank cards, upheaving the gambling table, a woman squatting in a leather mini skirt with her legs spread wide open, her cigarette dropping ashes onto the road in front of her, glowing embers on an ash tray that carried the ashes from the cigars belonging to the most powerful men of the americas, pushing a traitor against a wall and keeping them there with the grip you have on their neck, remembering where you came from and making it a big portion of your success, doing deals with the devil, the devil pitying you, abandoned hotels turned into brothels, biting the hand that feeds you, nonchalance portrayed in the most douchebag way possible, playing saxophone in high school and growing up to be the person everyone wanted to be, mob bosses hotboxing in a room full of strippers, being the authoritarian figure you always hated, being the person that people go to for permission, rising from rock bottom to the very top of the mountain, knowing all and saying none, driving in the desert and leaving dust trails to make sure everyone knows that you were here, kissing with split lips and not bothering to clean up, not just thinking youre the superior, but actually being the superior, gaining everyone’s respect AND fear, never begging but always waiting, an intelligence unmatched  

if you guys want more let me know?? idk if anyone will actually like this but I know that I had a lot of fun doing it and ill gladly do requests as well!! anyway sending my love, have a great day!! feedback is also appreciated also: @ripbrat k im tagging u but ur allowed to ignore this 10000% dont feel pressured I just thought huh mgk. OH WAIT K LIKES MGK. anyway uhhh have fun please!! 

[mccncrane]

INTRODUCING  —  DIDEM "DIDI" GÜVEN

“ NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY. ” is that BAHAR SAHIN? oh no, that’s DIDEM “DIDI” GÜVEN, born on the 27TH of DECEMBER, 2022. i heard SHE/HER (CIS WOMAN) is a SOLDIER of THE WYOMING MILITIA. apparently, they can be SWEET-NATURED and OPTIMISTIC but also known to be DELUSIONAL and LOOPY. spends most of their free time BATTLING HER OWN MIND AND NEEDING A NAP, probably smells like SAND AND COTTON. is that a bite mark i see? no, must have been a trick of the light.

CHARACTER INSPO: annie cresta from hunger games. that's it, that's the vibe.

HISTORY: (tw for murder & mental illness)

Didem is an apocalypse baby, born after the doomsday. Usually, people who don't remember a life before zombies adapt more easily to the state of the world, but Didi grew up incredibly sheltered. Her parents did everything in their power to keep their kids safe, never letting them outside their QZ and not letting them see the infected. Her brother, a good few years older than her, had managed to get a few peeks of the outside world when they were kids, but for the most part, they stayed hidden.

Eventually, the QZ's went to shit, too. Didi's parents struggled to keep the illusion that "everything's okay!!!", as they were thrown out into the wild to fend for themselves, but they did their best. They grouped up with other families and they survived in abandoned buildings by scouting supplies.

By the time she was 14, she was still naive to the horrors of the world, still sheltered; she'd never even seen an infected up close. And then a horde of them attacked their group.

The infected rolled in at night, faster and more quietly than any of them could prepare for. There was screaming, crying, running. Her family ran, but it wasn't enough. Her brother helped Didi up into a tree where she could be safe, but he couldn't climb after her in time.

She watched, from high up in the branches, as her entire family was torn to pieces. Gnawed on, devoured, as they screamed for help, looking at her, reaching for her. She was fourteen, and she'd never even seen the infected before.

Her brain shut down. It activated the parachute of self-preservation, it had to detach itself to help her handle all of the horrible things she was seeing.

She didn't remember much of it then, it was all a blur. At some point days later, she came down from the tree, and stumbled around through life, finding people who would help her from time to time. All the while, she had one vivid belief in her brain -- her family was alive and well, she just had to find them.

Her brain built a delusion from denial, and most days, she was happier living in it. A few years after that, she stumbled into Leopold. Still deep in her delusions thinking her family was alive, she was ecstatic to find her brother. Somewhere in her mind, the memories of her dead brother seemed to vanish, and be replaced with Leo, the kind guy she found. She latched onto him, and luckily, he seemed willing to take care of her, too.

They found the grizzlies a while after that. Nowadays, Didem dips in and out of her delusional state; she spends most of the time believing her family is alive and that Leo is her biological older brother, but some days she'll wake up having to face the heavy burden of her grief. On those days, she's often confused, a bit loopy, a bit disconnected, and very sad. Overall, she's just doing her best to pull her weight in the grizzlies before Yen finds out that she's probably too soft for them.

PERSONALITY:

A BABY!!! she's soft because 90% of the time she believes her family is still out there and she just wants Leo to stop getting in trouble otherwise mom will yell at him, and then the other 10% she's just gonna be crying about it

every time that she slips out of delusion, and actually remembers things, she has to grieve her family all over again, because she can never process the grief in a healthy way. every time it gets too painful, her brain seems to shut down again, and back into the delusion she goes. and on those days, when she actually remembers, her memories are all jumbled up. things are confusing, she grows distant, and she usually will just cling onto Leo and rely on him to let her know what's real or not from her memories

when she IS in her delusion and grand denial, however, she's pretty easygoing! she just wants to help people however she can, she's friendly. she likes to think she takes care of Leo, to some extent. and honestly, even people who are mean to her, it probably goes right over her head, so she'll likely be nice to anyone.

EXTRAS & CONNECTIONS:

y'all know i'm whack at this part. but anyway, alright, anyone in the grizzlies please come thru !! she's probably seen as the village crazy lady, probably a good amount of people know she's delusional. SO give me whichever way your character would react, if they're annoyed by it, if they feel bad, if they wanna protecc or just,,, strangle her abt it. slklsdkj IDK GIVE ME ALL !! i'll update the channel if i can think of anything concrete rip

[human-trash-fire]

Beautiful Disaster: Chapter 5 (Pynch Soulmate AU)

Alrighty my loves, this chapter has been a labor of love from the beginning. As you continue reading you will see art pieces and each is correlated with a song (those will be at the end), and references yet again will be made to the EMFS playlist (Ronan’s rehab playlist- I’ve actually made it on spotify! you can find it here)

As usual you can find this story on Ao3 @ glam_reaper 2 if you’re interested <3

TW: Mention of suicide attempt, a panic attack though not super descriptive, cannon typical language.

Iv.

You,

I made a friend last week.

I know for most people that wouldn’t be a big deal, but I assume by now You understand what that means for someone like me. I guess “friend” may be a generous term? I don’t know if we are there yet, Blue definitely disagrees with him “on principle.” 

You see, President Cellphone as she calls him, or Richard Campbell Gansey III (I know, what a douchey fucking name) is all boat shoes and privledge and perfect teeth. Gansey isn’t someone I’d normally associate with mind you, Henry kind of met my quota for rich extroverts in the inner circle, and yet…

So, here’s the story. I’m writing my last letter right? And I was so fucking lost. I decided to walk home from Nino’s- I thought maybe it would help me settle. And there, right around the corner is this fucking ‘73 camero. It should have been beautiful, really.. A classic like that? It’s a dream to look at. Only this fucking thing is the UGLIEST color of candy orange you could ever imagine… And it’s blowing smoke all over the damn place. I was honestly going to leave boat-shoes to call his daddy or mechanic or what have you, but he looked so confused. I offered to help him out and was able to get it running long enough to get to Boyd’s.

I expected him to just drop off “The Pig” (the car) like any normal person and come back for it, only I apparently made “quite the impression.”

Gansey ended up staying with me, prattling on about his Masters History program and some welsh king the ENTIRE time I worked on the damn car. At first I was tuning him out, but without realizing it I became completely entranced by the whole story. I’ve never seen such passion for anything, and I have VERY spirited friends.

He has one of those voices you know? The kind that can stop a room, raise an army, lead a nation. The kind that demands to be heard without ever having to raise itself.

That’s Gansey though.

I think he’ll be good for me, I don’t think he’d give me much of a choice in the matter though to be honest. He kind of adopted me this week? That should bother me and yet, being around him is just… It’s being included. It’s a sense of purpose.

I think he needs it too, he doesn’t seem to talk about negative things but you can tell, he’s haunted by something. That’s what solidified it for me really. He may be a senator’s son but he’s seen some shit. 

I wish you could have met him, I wonder if you would have been as intrigued by him as I find myself. 

Blue is being a total idiot about him, but I’m about 82% sure it’s because she is into him. I know for sure the feeling is mutual. It took Gans approximately 15 minutes after meeting Blue to ask me for her life story, offend her beyond measure, and then haul ass out of Nino’s. It was the first time I’d seriously laughed in so long. Have you ever been second-hand embarrassed for someone? It was that. 

I’m going to wrap this up now though, I need to head to Nino’s for my shift, Blue’s working so of course Gans is stopping by. He said he’s bringing one of his best friends with him, some dude named Noah. Apparently he’s pretty cool, so I’m moderately less apprehensive. He said he wished he could bring his other best friend/ his and Noah’s third roommate but the guy is staying with family for a few months or something. Idk? He doesn’t talk about the other roommate much. I honestly don’t even think he’s ever said his name. Who gives a shit though, I can barely handle one new friend, let alone a 3-pack of Ganseys. Good God… I hope Noah isn’t another Gansey…. Fuck.

Welp.

Here goes nothing.

*****

It started with a not-so-subtle idea from the esteemed Dr. Allen. “Show me what happened.” Ronan was never great with words before all this, and since… When he spoke it was usually a litany of curse words. So Dr. Allen had suggested art. In the weeks since his entombment in this fine rehabilitation center, Ronan had kind of already been doing what he was being asked to do now. Though, he didn’t mention it to Allen. He’d spent countless hours sketching his life, the whole thing, in snapshots inside that beautiful leather sketchbook Gansey had given him. 

He started at the beginning, pictures of Aurora and his brothers, the Barns, his father playing guitar by the fire. He drew their family vacations, the cows he used to sneak out and sleep beside when he was a child, the feeling of winning the Tennis State Championship when he was 15. He drew the bad things too, his nightmares, his drug-trips, that old stained couch in the basement of Kavinsky’s house. He put every piece of himself, all 22 years of memories down in that book, woven together with song lyrics in the margins. 

So when Dr. Allen asked him to look specifically to his addiction and create, he didn’t see a problem. He needed to return to school with a series anyways, Declan had called to inform him that strings had been pulled to allow him to finish his final semester at Georgetown, but he needed to walk in with something to show at the January exhibition. Two birds, and all that.

He settled on 7 pieces, each done in oils on canvas, each accompanied by a song. 7 moments in the life of his battle with addiction, from the beginning to now. With each stroke of his brush he felt infinesmally lighter, pouring his grief into the images before him. 

It started with “The Fall.” His father’s murder in reds and greys; fracturing lines and deep shadows. He mixed his paints with tears and used his heart to drag color across the canvas. For the first time in years, Ronan allowed the memory to consume him. He’d re-lived it plenty of times in his nightmares, but this was different. His hands shook, jagged strokes of anger and confusion bleeding through. He painted the brief moment, the final moment, when his world was whole before his teenage mind finally realized what it was he was looking at. His last free breath. And he painted his screams, the cacophony of pain, endlessly mixing with sirens until his vocal chords gave out. 

He drowned the canvas in un-kept promises and hung it out to dry with childhood dreams.

Then came “Chasing the Void.” It was a story told in stark lighting. High beams on a backroad, swirling smoke and broken bottles. It was white glasses and white-powder lines on shark-nosed hood. It was going 115mph, bones rattling with the beat of the bass in his sound system. Ronan painted a black tattoo, used the blood on his knuckles to tint bloodshot eyes. His brush moved with his mother’s disappointment and his brother’s anger. Whimsical lines and Gansey’s head shaking when he found Ronan passed out yet again. He painted the highs and lows when sobriety reminded him that he hated the face that stared back at him in the mirror. 

Each new piece he added to the collection was brought to Dr. Allen’s office. Together they worked through each memory associated with the piece and slowly Ronan felt the weight on his chest lighten. 

Gansey visited every Monday and Friday like clockwork. He kept Ronan apprised to all the goings on of Monmouth and updates on Matthew and Declan. Ronan never asked for them, but he appreciated it regardless. His current obsession though seemed to be a new friend, Adam something. He had been going on for 30 minutes now about how this man single-handedly raised the Pig from the dead. Ronan tuned out most of the conversation, but nodded at what he assumed were appropriate moments while sketching.

“Ronan, are you even paying attention?” Gansey asked, irritation only slightly evident.

“Mmm?” Ronan hummed. “For sure. Pig. Smoke. Some new guy.”

“Essentially. I was saying that Noah and I are heading to his second job, the man works 2 jobs and is getting a masters can you believe it? Anyways Nino’s, so Noah can finally meet him and Blue. Have I mentioned her yet?” 

Blue? He thought. Who the fuck names their kid Blue. “Once or twice.”

“Well they both work this afternoon, so I assume we’ll just hang there until they get off. Then maybe grab a bite. I wish you could come, I’m sure you’d get along nicely with Adam.” Gansey said, choosing to ignore the previous sarcasm and barrell on. Excelsior. 

“Doubt it.” Guy sounds like a douche.

“On that note, thank you for another lovely visit. I’ll see you Monday, Ronan.” Gansey gathered his coat and made his way to the door with a final wave.

Ronan waved back with a single finger and a saccharine “Bye, Dick.” Then shoved his Airpods back into his ears and lost himself in the EMFS playlist.

*****

As Adam gathered the tub of dirty dishes from above the trash and made his way back to wash them, he was lost in thought. These last two weeks, recent events, had been so much and yet he strangely was beginning to feel some semblance of peace. He knew that Blue had wanted him to write letters to help him cope. If he was admitting to it helping, he also needed to be honest with himself in noting that it may have been hurting just as much. He was falling in love with a ghost. A figment of his imagination that he could tell his every secret too, someone who listened without judgment; Someone who never asked more of him than he could handle. It wasn’t healthy, wasn’t what Blue had intended, of that he was sure. But, if it brought him peace and allowed him to sleep without seeing cold, dead eyes, then what was the harm?

He rinsed the mugs and plates loading them efficiently into the dishwasher, and dried his hands. As he moved to toss the towel into the bin, he heard the bell chime above the cafe door. He made his way slowly to the front, knowing that Blue was currently handling the register meant that he didn’t need to rush. On his way down the hallway he stopped to straighten a missing cat flier on the community bulletin board, taking a moment to snap a picture of the cat in question so he could be on the lookout, then continued toward the front; eyes glued to his phone.

He rounded the corner towards the coffee bar to the tune of laughter, it seemed Gansey had arrived. His eyes found Blue first. For all her insistance that she loathed the man in question, she was positively glowing, head tossed back in a hearty laugh. Lost in the bubble of charm Gansey operated in. 

“-And so I asked him, mind you I’ve had a lot to drink at this point, ‘Hey senator, why do you fucking hate poor peo-‘ Oh! Adam” Ganseys story of embarrassing his mother at one of her Republican fundraisers interrupted, as he caught sight of Adam sliding behind the bar.

“Hey Gans,” He smiled. 

“My apologies, this is Noah.” Gansey stepped to the side to reveal the man in question, and Adam’s breath stopped. 

There, eyes blue and wide with shock, mouth agape stood the man from the alley. The one whose scream still haunted Adam in the dark, solitary hours of sleep. The one that began his every nightmare of that night.

He was different now, tears weren’t pouring from his eyes to dance across the plains of his smudgey face. His blonde hair free of blood was slightly tousled, and his clothes were clean, albeit a little disheveled. 

“No,” the word was a broken noise, barely a word at all, closer to a sob. Gansey and Blue looked frantically between the two for what seemed like an eternity before Noah spoke.

“It’s you…” 

“Who? Noah, you know Adam?” Gansey’s voice was quietly confused.

Adam began to shake his head slowly, increasing with speed as his breath finally returned to him; Erratic and wild. Crocodile tears blurred his vision, and he finally croaked a simple question, “What… What was his name?”

“Ronan.”

“Oh, god” Blue breathed. 

Adam ran, desperately fleeing the scene and chorus of his name called from the front. Ronan, his name was Ronan. Adam couldn’t breathe. His pain fresh, an un-mendable wound reopened now that he had a name to grieve. He paused, only long enough to grab his messenger bag from the back, and took the alley door. 

Then he ran, faster than he’d ever remembered running. Tears turning the colors of the world around him to a haunting watercolor. His breath came in painful stabs, each beat of his bleeding heart an excruciating truth.

He somehow made it back to his apartment. The moment the door closed behind him he fell against it and slid to the floor. Ronan Ronan Ronan-

“R-Ronan.” He spoke the name the first time aloud, the feeling of its weight on his tongue was an answer to a question he’d been asking for a month. For a lifetime.

Adam didn’t know how long he sat on the floor, grief taking time and twisting it in on itself. An amalgam of pain, hopelessness, and questions. Gansey, Gansey knew Ronan, knew Noah. Noah the boy he’d last seen carted away in the back of an ambulance covered in red red red. Noah, who’d screamed for help like the world was shattering. Noah, who’d clung tightly to the shredded arms of a bleeding man in a dark alley.

Help me, his mind screamed, his internal voice morphing into Noah’s from that night. 

Help me, I’m not okay…

A key twisting in the lock above his head brought his attention to the present. Adam pushed away from the door, and waited as Blue made her way into his dark apartment. Night had fallen sometime since he’d been here, on the floor, lost in the alley. Lost in a name.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Th-that was-”

“I know. Noah told us after you left. Adam, there’s… Adam. I need to tell you something.”

It was a concentrated effort to drag his gaze from the space between their bodies on the floor to meet her eyes. Lights from the street poured through the window in the living room, painting Blue’s honey warm skin in a haunting glow. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he waited. He watched. She brought a trembling hand to his, her brown eyes lined with silver, she squeezed.

“Adam, he’s alive.” 

A sob born of heartbreak and pain tore from his chest, he couldn’t form words. He broke then, completely and wholly. Blue came to cradle his head against her chest as he cried. Every hope he’d killed since the alley came barreling to the surface; All the pain and confusion, love and questions, beating like waves against the shores of his mind. Some minutes later he finally raised his head and met Blue’s eyes, her smile was wet and broken. He dragged his hand under his nose, across his eyes, and finally found the word to the question he needed to ask. “How?”

So Blue told him. Apparently, him finding Noah and Ronan in that alley, the tourniquet he’d made of his scarf, that extra minute he’d bought him had been enough. The doctors were able to stitch his wounds, and though it had been a close call, he’d pulled through. She explained that he’d had a hard life, though Gansey wouldn’t give details because he insisted those were Ronan’s to share when he was ready. He did however give her basic facts. Ronan Niall Lynch is an artist, a senior at Georgetown. He’s an orphan, and a brother. He’s an addict in recovery at a facility in Arlington, and Gansey’s third roommate. 

Blue explained that, when Adam was ready Gansey and Noah wanted to meet with him, to talk more. She offered to accompany him when that time came, but they all agreed they wouldn’t push him until he was ready. “Thank you,” he’d said to Blue. For getting the information. For telling him. For allowing him space. She understood that his history made this difficult, an addict for a soulmate was something he would need time to process. She eventually asked if he wanted to be alone and when he’d told her “yes” she kissed his forehead, and made her way to the door.

“Adam,” she paused, and he looked up. “We’ll wait on your text okay? Whenever you’re ready. But please check in so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

With a perfunctory nod she slid back out the door. 

Adam spent another minute in silence before dragging himself from the floor. He made his way in a daze to his desk and he collapsed into his chair. Slowly, he pulled out a blank sheet of paper. 

His hand shook.

He took a deep breath.

He wrote.

V

Ronan,

You’re alive…

**********************

Art Pieces and their correlating songs (linked):

“The Fall”  The War- SYML

“Chase The Void”  For What It’s Worth- Malia J