#im sorry this account has just been rotting for years

[animal--characters]

hi i havent touched this account in over 3 years follow my twitter and my other blog @highkeyhyuse . i dont really draw catified stuff except occasionally

i dont post art here ( at least , not yet ) here r my social medias https://linktr.ee/virus_eiiz

k thanks byeeeeeeee

[seikkoi]

ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ | ᴛᴏɴʏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴋ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

18+ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ

content/warnings: named reader, explicit sexual content (very end), alcohol consumption, mentions of financial issues, employer/employee relations, explicit mentions of mental health issues (reader has the anxieties™), mentions of physical injuries, set in canon universe before aou.

genre: mostly angst ngl, sm*t at the very very end

word count: 7,463 im sorry

a/n: lightly inspired by the song 'october' by rothstein

dedicated to: the lovely @alessandraavengers

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business."  Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable.  “My business is your job."

I won't complain,

I will be decent, 

though it will be freezing,

I welcome the rain.

The hands of the clock on the wall ticked silently, a sign of the building’s expense. You clutched a leather binder filled with papers in your lap as you sat. Everything you had to show for the last seven years of your life. Countless awards, certificates, recommendations—the expensive bachelor's and the bank account-draining master’s. Your leg bounced on the dark mahogany, steadily increasing frequency as seconds turned into minutes.

Ironically, this would also be interview number seven. For the job you were least qualified for. You applied for close to twenty at this point, all well below your skill, but you were desperate. You had barely a year of experience—quitting your first job one year out of school after one-too-many sixty hour work weeks. The moment you turned in your resignation, dread and regret over your choice in profession filled you. It held you down, sleeping and rotting the days away. Eventually, reality set in, pulled you out of bed and back into the corporate world. 

Turns out, lack of experience and ‘quitting with notice’ is less than ideal.

You hoped a step down in prestige would result in less stress. All your fantasies of a top floor corner office and luxury disappeared like ash under a light rain. You always held expensive tastes that you couldn’t sustain unemployed.�� But the stress wasn’t worth it. All you needed now was to pay the bills. Too quickly ‘over-qualified’ or ‘under-experienced’ became your least favorite words. You had to fight back the dread every time you checked your email. 

Just when you’d started pondering entry-level positions, a notification came through for a new vacancy ‘Fit for your skillset!’. To your dismay, the description sounded no different than the job you left. More grueling expectations and personal sacrifice. On top of that, you still were under-experienced by their requirements. Not to mention who it was for. Overworked employees typically miss most current events, but far too much has been going on with this company to make even you pay attention. Working for such a high-profile, drama-ridden company might be even worse.  But after weeks and not so much as an offer letter, you had to try anything. On the plus side, at least it paid well.

Three days later, you found yourself inside of Stark Tower, wishing the silent clock would move faster.

Square breathes, internal mantras—nothing worked. Your heels still made a gentle clack against the floor. Thankfully, the general noise of the front lobby kept it from being a nuisance. 

What you swear is eons later, your ears prick up to a similar click growing near you. You turn your head as a tall blonde approaches the small waiting area. She stops at the front desk a moment, making your heart skip a beat when the receptionist points to you. 

‘Just relax, you know what to say.’ you thought to yourself. ‘They won’t hire you if you’re a nervous wreck.’

You manage to muster what little confidence you had left after weeks of rejection to stand and straighten your dress as she greets you. Thankfully, the smile she extends is friendly enough. The hand you feel is soft and manicured too— acute tells of an easy life.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Potts, I’ll be bringing you up to meet Mr. Stark.” she says, turning and heading further into the lobby.

‘Maybe this won’t be too hard. Maybe this job won’t be like the last.’

-

During the entire elevator ride to Mr. Stark’s office, Ms. Potts spews out factoids about Stark Industries but you’re too busy rethinking your entire interview strategy. Something about a cave, Obadiah Stane and a wormhole whizzes through your ear to no reaction. It was nothing you hadn’t already read in the weekly papers, nor did it ease you one bit. 

You were even more taken aback when you realize you’re descending, and the silver doors open to a spacious garage. The faint sound of movement echoes, source unseen. You turn to Miss Potts, who only gives another pleasant smile and gestures into the concrete space.

Sure, the whole world knew Tony Stark was a bit eccentric. You knew that well enough when you applied. Hell, it probably explained the vacancy. Maybe this was some type of strategy, or just his nature. Either way, something was screaming at you to tell Miss Potts you had changed your mind, go home and apply for anything else. 

Then, you remembered how badly you wanted success. You couldn’t accept anything less.

The elevator closed quietly behind you as you exited, looking for the source of the noise. There’s cars (some ridiculously new and some pathetically old), studded workbenches, and chaotic piles of robotics and machinery strewn about. You have to round the corner to find him, behind a small bar tucked away from the metal mess everywhere else. 

He’s turned away from you, seated at the bar with eyes glued on a few papers before him. An ornate pen signs away without pause. You’re certain the sound of your heels against the floor gave you away, but you’re sure to clear your throat to not shock him. 

Mr. Stark, clad in a grease-stained white tee and dark denim, shifts in the barstool slightly to give you a cursory look. You can tell immediately his mind is lightyears away from the present situation, focused elsewhere. On a lighter note, you notice how much kinder he looks in person. All the magazines and op-eds made his face harsh, never smiling. 

“You’re the one who applied for assistant thingy right? Miss…” Stark trails off, scanning back through the papers in front of him. There’s a slight slur in his speech, one that forces you to remember the early hour.

“Cassian.” you interrupt his search and he laughs, abandoning the papers for a shiny glass on the counter.

He brings the amber liquid to his lips before he speaks again. 

“Right, Cassian, look—” The glass finds its way back to the solid surface despite his sway. He stands once it does, facing you with a wide smile. “You’re hired!” 

With that, you’re left more dumbfounded, staring at the billionaire as he sauntered over to one of the cluttered workbenches. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I really don’t understand—” You turn towards him as he walks by, not sparing you another glance.

When he reaches the middle of the garage, he lets out an exhausted sigh. The familiar regret seeps in, turning your nerves up another notch.

“The woman that probably brought you here—Pepper, she used to be my assistant, and handle all the tabloid bullsuit.” he mutters, fiddling with a wrench from the bench. 

“After the whole ‘tower nearly blowing up’ situation, she’s taken a step uh-out of my life. For better or worse. I didn’t wanna hire anyone else, she’s convinced I can’t manage my own life— we compromised.”

You start to speak, trying to formulate the right words to say. Stark pays it no mind, tossing the wrench back down gently.

He pivots towards you, and you see the stress in his eyes. You can see why she’d quit-hell you were starting to wish you never applied. The name ‘Stark’ proliferated in the papers these days.

“Offer letter is signed, on the bar, job’s there if you want it.” With that, he walks across the garage, past you into the elevator. 

The electronic ding! sounds, leaving you in the garage alone without another word. You’re convinced this is a terrible idea- even before whatever that just was.

Something sparks your curiosity to look at the signed papers, and put a dollar amount to this madness. You walk back to the bar, grabbing the stack of papers with a faint ring of water in the corner.

You’re certain you’re dreaming when you count the number of zeros. 

THREE WEEKS LATER

You were ready for retirement at the ripe age of twenty-six.

This was a new type of demand. Running nearly every aspect of Tony Stark’s life didn’t eat your soul, but it ate at your mind. You could spin embezzlement or drunk-driving into a heartwarming story- alien attacks and Hydra were a whole new ballpark. 

It was almost refreshing. Spinning stories for shitty people and tailoring public statements for the goal of maximum human exploitation never quite sat right with you. Handling Stark’s life just felt like defending someone who deserved it. It felt more honorable working for him than a greedy tech firm.  (There are some questionable times when he doesn’t, but you don’t bother with those).

The righteousness helped the uncharted territory be more than manageable. Still, making Stark’s technology enterprise mesh well with his role as Iron Man felt like a hero’s feat on its own. The media would come up with any number of wild conspiracies about Iron Man, most of them disparaging to his image. 

Stark was legitimately aiming for good things in the world. The weariness in your bones kept you craving more simplicity and ease, nonetheless.

You sunk down into the leather couch of the conference room, watching as the board members filed out in quick order. The room was filled with the golden ray of sunset— soon to turn pitch black. 

Officially done with the day’s meetings, you forgo any workplace formalities and kick off your heels, despite your boss’s presence. 

A light chuckle at your exhaustion breaks the silence, Stark slumping into the empty space beside you. You raise an eyebrow when he wriggles at the lavish tie around his neck, tossing the garment to the floor next to your heels. 

“What, you can kick back but I can’t?” he jests, undoing the top two buttons of his black dress shirt. 

You give a ‘fair enough’ shrug, leaning back to start mentally processing the last ten hours.

You found yourself staring at his exposed neck as your mind trailed off, his head leaned back, eyes shut. His jaw is tight, forehead pinch in a now-familiar focus. Stark looked nearly as drained as you, still you knew better than to try and equate things. Honestly, you considered yourself semi-lucky to only have to make things look nice for the cameras and not be present for them. In the evening glow, though, he looks close to ethereal.

You shift your eyes at the thought.

You two sit in comfortable silence as the sun moves behind the New York city skyline. 

You’re doing mental math on how soon you can retire when he fills the void with a question.

“Regret taking the job?” he asks, unmoving. 

You add ‘potential mind reader’  to his list of skills. 

“Some parts are better than others.” It’s as honest of an answer you can give without sounding ungrateful for the opportunity (or thinking about the alluring glow on his skin).

He laughs again, turning to meet your eyes. This would mark the first time you’re under a heat lamp from his gaze, irises tired and alluring. 

“Seriously,” 

Clearly your answer isn’t convincing, because he turns to his side on the couch to fully face you. 

“You aren’t regretting this? Because lately you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” he says with a lazy grin.

You thought you were doing a good job of burying your issues beneath walls of smiles. Hearing otherwise hurts your resolve a bit, especially from Stark. He had enough on his plate without worrying about you.

“It’s just…a lot,” 

Despite how you felt, you couldn’t lie about it, not to his face. 

“But it’s not your fault, it’s not you.” you swiftly add upon seeing his somber grin fade away.

“Ha, isn’t it though?” A dramatic sigh escapes his mouth like a deflated balloon, running his hands through messy brown locks. “This..rollercoaster I’ve put myself on.” 

“Rollercoasters can be fun.” 

“You hate it.” Stark faces you once more, propping his arm up on the back of the couch. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you quit.”

The suggestion pulls a laugh of your own. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

Stark makes a genuinely puzzled face, to which you spend the next minute or two explaining why you quit your first job, the weeks you spent rotting away after. You had hoped to never recount such a sad time outloud, but you couldn’t stand him feeling at fault for your lack of enthusiasm. 

Ease passes through you when it seems to comfort him a bit.

“Maybe I hire you for something else, maybe pay you to not deal with this shit.” he says, laughing.

You brush off his joke with another short laugh. “Wouldn’t that be something? Really, it’s fine. Just need a long hot shower.”

You start to stand, but are stopped when a hand graces your thigh. 

“No jokes, I know what it’s like to get more than you signed up for. If money’s all that’s keeping you here, trust me that’s not an issue.”

You give a flustered smile, trying not to focus on how warm his hand was. 

“It’s not all that’s keeping me here.”

TWO MONTHS LATER

“You know it’s just a dinner, right? Like just food, maybe music, high probability of dessert?” Stark taunts, noticing your trembling leg from behind his phone screen.

The car seems like it’s moving way too fast, even though you can very clearly see the speedometer under 25 miles per hour. 

“Yes, I know what dinner is.” 

You let out a deep sigh, trying to regain the ground under your feet. The part Stark conveniently forgets is that it is a very large gala he’s dragged you along to, and not just a normal dinner. You can do normal dinner, not a one hundred plus person dinner with reporters and red carpet. He’s also not considering the part where he didn’t tell you about it until two hours ago.

“Oh, that’s a relief, thought you might jump out the window.” he pockets his phone, turning to you. “I can just have Happy take you home, you know.”

“No, no, this is…excitement. I’m excited. Totally ready.” you’re really trying to convince yourself, but it only makes Tony snicker.

“These things are really boring, promise. That’s why you’re here, keep me from falling asleep.” 

Out the window, the street lights start to turn back into normal orbs instead of blurry splotches. The car pulls up the curb with enough ease for you to take in the venue. It's a marble hall, one you feel suddenly underdressed for. You make a mental note to tell Stark never to give you this little notice again. Perhaps you should save yourself the trouble and head home. 

Stark could behave himself, right? 

The black window tinting your view disappears when the door is pulled open. You hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore, now holding the door and gesturing to the entrance. You get your first good look at the suit he’s wearing, tailored and jet-black. The flattering seams are a decent enough distraction to join him on the sidewalk. 

Stark places both hands on either of your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. 

“You look amazing, I look amazing, please stop worrying. It’s starting to spread and I can’t eat on an upset stomach.” he forces himself into your gaze, searching your face for the supposed ‘excitement’.

A deep breath, then a second passes through you, staring at Stark's eyes until you can manage a curt nod and still legs.

“See, you’re gonna be just fine.” he exclaims, dropping the hands from your shoulders and already smiling for the line of photographers waiting by the door. 

You follow unsteadily, praying this is a speedy event. You could do this for an hour, maybe two. Stark takes notice of your delay, turning back to you just before reaching the first nerdy cameraman.

“Hey, what’s the issue with this? If your not comfortable with the cameras, you know we can just go around—”

“It’s not that,” you interrupt, gripping your clutch with sweaty palms. 

“Then what?” he asks sympathetically.

“There’s like a hundred people in there, Stark.” you admit with a long sigh.

“And I’m one of them, what’s the worst that can happen if you're with me?” He turns and props his arm out towards you. “Miss Cassian?” he says, dragging out your name.

You want to roll your eyes at his constant unserious nature, but instead you take another deep breath, loop your arm through his, letting your fingers wrap around the satiny fabric on his bicep before taking slow steps forward.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Bright bulbs of light flickering in blinding succession. In every direction, microphones with human mouthpieces spew their hurried questions. Your boss answers in his typical Stark way, earning only more adoration and curiosity. You come to humor yourself with the questions they ask. Always seemingly random, from his favorite brand of whiskey to his opinion on migrant detainment in the Mediterranean. 

You stand to the right as he smiles and poses for them. You almost hate how good he looks in the cold wind, face most definitely beaming behind designer snow-white frames. Outside of that, you admire his patience, knowing this winter vacation (where he didn’t have to be Iron Man for once) was leaked and now semi-ruined.

It would’ve been a well needed break for you as well. Three months of non-stop press releases, conferences, and meetings were wearing you ragged. Late nights were occupied with drafting memos and wishing you chose a career with less work. While you hated the time work took away, you unfortunately began to admire the work you did. Working for Stark turned out to be more desirable than you thought. You imagined dealing with another frustrating, reckless CEO- not a charming, witty superhero. Regardless of the long hours and chaos, you loved helping put more good into the world. 

Finally, as snow starts to fall, he answers a final question on if he’ll change the color of his suit before turning to enter the cabin.

“Mr. Stark— Iron Man, won’t be taking any more questions, excuse me, thank you.” 

You tried to squeeze past incessant reporters and fans, barely making it through the hotel front door if it weren’t for security. The commotion outdoors gets muffled by the tall wooden doors. You sigh and lean against them, shutting your eyes for a moment.

“Feeling alright, Cassie?” 

Stark’s voice makes you open your eyes to see him standing in the foyer. This would be the fourth time you feel his eyes burning through your skin. You expected him not to be upstairs in bed, asleep already, not in front of you, eyeing you with his hands buried in his pockets. 

The place he chose spared little expense, clearly for starlets like Stark looking for a lush, woodsy escape. Wooden walls covered every inch, adorned with fancy art and a modern fireplace in the living room.  The color reminds you of the tower lobby, a deep mahogany. 

“Yeah, just remind me why I’m here and not at home in my heated apartment.” You keep your voice light as you hang your coat on the rack by the door. 

Stark gives a playful scoff, too used to your sarcasm to take offense. 

“A certain former assistant thinks I need a babysitter on my own vacation.” He turns on his heels, heading towards the kitchen with a renewed energy (surely only now remembering he’s supposed to be relaxing). 

“She’s not wrong.” you agree only because Stark re-emerges from the kitchen with a tall amber colored bottle and two glasses. 

You can’t help rolling your eyes at his stiffened jazz hands, tossing yourself onto the plush armchair by the fireplace. The cold seemed to wrap itself around you, not leaving despite your proximity to the fire. Stark chose to sit on the side table next to you, rather than the wide array of more comfortable seating options. You’d gotten used to him entering your personal space since your talk in the conference room. You took it as a sign of his narcissism more than anything.

“Not sure I’m meant to be a drunk babysitter, Mr. Stark, ” you quip as he starts pouring.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he winks, offering you one. “And come on with the ‘mister’—making me feel old over here.”

It’s bothersome how little he has to say to change your mood. Something about being with just him, away from press, deadlines or state secrets, pulled you in and kept you coming to work everyday. In this moment, however, his solitary presence made you anxious. You’d have to get through this sabbatical without the chaos of the world bringing you back to reality. The real world, littered with expectations.

Free of any reason to decline, you take the glass. You and Tony do a lazy toast, clicking the glasses together before taking a sip. The peaceful quiet envelopes the cabin, save for the crackle of the fireplace. 

“You okay?” you ask upon seeing the weariness in his face, contrasting the grin he held.

“Better than okay,” he finishes the rest of his drink, pouring another faster than you take a second sip. “Happy to be away from everything, ‘get in touch with the great outdoors!’ as they say.” 

You laugh at the dramatic mocking tone he uses, extending your arm out when he makes a gesture at your empty glass. 

“I hope your atleast being slightly genuine, Mr. Stark.” you say once the glass is full once more.

“When am I ever not, Miss Cassian.” he draws on your name with the same mocking pitch as before.

You fake a wince at the taste of your own medicine, which amuses the hell of the already tipsy Stark. 

“I see what you mean, felt fifteen years added on instantly with that,” you admit, chuckling at his demeanor. 

“Hence why I’m such a nice guy and call you Cassie like a normal person,” he states smugly, taking another sip from his glass.

“Oh really, Tony? ‘Cause you only gave me that nickname after I explicitly told you no one ever calls me that.” you laugh.

“Yes and that was a great loss to the universe that I fixed,” Tony turns his head to meet your gaze, eyes sparkling (you tell yourself it’s just the alcohol and nothing else).

The both of you stay there silent, eyes locked for what quickly becomes far too long and the awkwardness makes your attention back to your drink. You finish the contents, hoping that the liquid would cool your now burning skin. 

You internally remind yourself that this is just how he is- a playboy philanthropist turned charming hero, nothing else. 

“Sorry, I know this isn’t really much of a vacation for you. ‘Know you wanna be at home, away from Stark Industries,” he deflates a bit, pouring a third drink.

“No, it’s not like that,” you interject, speaking softly, “I really don’t mind being here, and it’s still a good break from meetings and all that other tedious shit.” 

He takes a sip, seemingly mulling over your words. “Give any more thought to my offer?”

You let out a small laugh, thrown off by his sudden mention of it. You were certain then that he wasn’t being anything near serious. 

“What, you paying me to not be here? I didn’t think that was you being serious.”

“It’s a win-win, no? You get a salary, I don’t have to drag you along for this rollercoaster, Pepper doesn’t worry, everyone’s happy.” 

Clearly you’re left silent for too long, because Tony stands before he speaks again. He seems conflicted, running his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Look, I don’t need to see you miserable, I guess.”

“What, who said I was miserable?”

“Anyone would be dealing with me.” 

TWO DAYS LATER

After a few days, an air of melancholy had hung over you. Two days of nothing turned into endless overthinking about your life. Every decision made seemed to rattle in your bones, looking for a place to be. You tried to tell yourself it was normal to feel lost, to feel as though everything you’ve ever done was pointless. This was the first time you’d had room to think, of course everything would be overwhelming.

That didn’t help, but whatever red wine Tony brought did. 

You found it on night two, cracking open the second bottle when Tony comes downstairs. You gave a sluggish hey that gave away your state immediately, but you were too absorbed in your thoughts to meet his eyes. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine connoisseur.” he mutters, sitting in the chair across from you. 

You don’t bother with a response. In fact, you wished that he’d go away. Seeing Tony lately just reminded you more of the life you were sure you wouldn’t have. You were certain you made all the wrong choices, took all the wrong paths.

“Cassian?” he leans forward, forcing his face into your point of view. “Kinda' freaking me out here.”

“You ever think about what your life would be like if you weren’t,” you trail off for a moment, slurring slightly. “I don’t know—you?”

He laughs and it feels infectious, closing your eyes to hopefully shut up the twist in your stomach.

“Me, specifically? Who knows? Maybe I’d be a pilot, or own a hotdog stand.” he goes silent at your lack of reaction to his joke, resting his chin against his hands.

“Why, thinking about faking your death and adopting a new identity?”

The red liquid in your glass coats your dry throat. You’d love to start over. Go back and see what the other paths held. Then, the deep pit of your stomach turns, remembering how different and worthwhile working for Stark made you feel.

“What if I did everything wrong?” you ask quietly.

If you did, a small part of the anxiety in your gut assures you that it was worth it to find your way to him.

“Define ‘wrong’.”

“Not what I imagined, I guess”

To help someone who wanted to do so much to help the world.

“Well, what do you want from life?”

You go silent again. “I don’t know.”

TWO WEEKS LATER

With nothing to prove you,

and if I should lose you

—It won't be in vain.

On the last day at the cabin, you feel a genuine sense of sadness at the thought of leaving. 

Fourteen days with no reminder of the outside world had you the most relaxed in years. Bliss was all you felt waking up each morning to no phone calls, no emergencies, and no meetings. You forgot what it was like to just exist, to not have your thoughts bogged down by deadlines. You had even forgotten the benefits of good company. The demanding nature of your job meant little social life, and you didn’t realize until nearly two days in that you had been craving it. What surprised you more was that you received that good company in the form of your boss. Tony seemed to go out of his way to fill any voids of silence with quips and self-deprecating jokes to make you laugh. Clearly to spare himself the awkwardness of your dissatisfaction. 

Nothing changed about personality, but removing the dark shadow of responsibility made him visibly less wound up. It must have done the same for you, because you spent most of these last two weeks laughing (or catching up on well-needed sleep). You tried to avoid him lately, not wanting to add fuel to the fire you could feel growing for him. Opting for weeks of solitude with him was possibly not the wisest route.

Retroactively, if you had all this sudden free time at home alone, you probably would’ve gone a little crazy. 

You must be wearing your solace on your face, because that night, during dinner, Stark asks if something is wrong.

“Is it a bad thing if I don't want to go back to New York?” you chuckle at your own absurdity, scraping the last bits of food into the trash.

“Is it worse if I agree?” he smiles, looking up from his own plate. 

“Not excited to go back to being an Avenger?” you ask honestly, sitting back down at the kitchen table, next to him.

“Ha, excited’s the wrong word.” he sits back in his chair, letting out a sigh. “You’re not jumping to get back out there either.”

You give an agreeing nod, resting your head in your hands when you start mentally going through all the tasks waiting for you tomorrow. 

“You don’t have to go back like I do. You can get away from all this.”

When you look up, Tony’s eyes are glued to the floor. 

“You know, you can just fire me if it’s that much of a bother to you.” you say sharply. 

Truthfully, it was starting to come off as a subtle hint to leave rather than concern. It muddied whatever imaginary connection you maybe thought you’d fostered over these last few weeks. All the little touches and extra concern bounced around in the back of your head like a live grenade. You didn’t know how much of it was aimed towards you, or just his charismatic nature. Maybe there was never any charisma, and he was the same as any other CEO.

“Cassie, that’s the last thing I want.” he says, like he’s offended, and you want to laugh at the audacity.

“Could’ve fooled me.” you retort, standing to exit the kitchen.

Tony intercepts you at the doorway, however, clearly scrambling for words to ease the newly-created tension. All it really does is annoy you more, seeing those brown eyes pleading silently. Either way, you can’t get past. 

“I—This is too much for anyone to handle. I can barely handle it and that’s because you do so much behind-the-scenes for me. A lot of people have reached their wits end with me and I don’t want that with you.”

It sounds painful for him to say, and despite his soft tone, it’s the most serious you’ve ever heard him be.

“I think you’re worried a bit too—”

“I’d rather not be the reason you spend weeks in bed, okay?” 

Frozen in the doorway, your anger still boils. It felt like the thing you were most ashamed about being thrown in your face. You want to go back to that conference room and never tell him a thing. It’d save you the confusion, save you from all the mixed signals. He couldn’t mean it. You remember the way he reluctantly submitted to Pepper and hired you. Tony didn’t care, he never wanted you here in the first place. You felt stupid for thinking anything else.

"Maybe you should worry about yourself, Stark. I've been doing just fine before you decided to make my job your business." 

Tony's jaw clenches, and a shaky hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. 

“My business is your job, can’t you see I’m trying to be supportive?” 

You almost start to regret your words, but you can’t stand the way he looks at you like some fragile thing. 

For the fifth time, you're hot under his gaze, but it does nothing besides flare your anger more.

“I don’t need your support, stop acting like you have any idea what’s best for me.” you snap, taking a step closer.

To your surprise, Tony closes the remaining distance, and you have to look up to maintain your glare. Tony's expression shifts from concern to frustration, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Clearly, you don’t even know what’s best for you. Forgive me for giving a damn.” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes, deciding to just put an end to this conversation. In his frustration, Tony left a wide enough gap for you to try and snake through. Your heated exit must’ve been obvious, because he steps back to keep you in front of him.

“Seriously?” your fists clench at your sides, heat spreading up your arms to your cheeks. 

“Why are you still here?” he softens a bit, but not entirely folding his arms over his chest.

It’s not enough though— your irritation is unchanging even under his tender gaze.  It was easier to stay angry and pretend like he wasn’t the only thing keeping you. To not admit that you didn’t want to abandon him.

“Why’d you bring me here?” you retort through gritted teeth, motioning at the logged walls around you.

“Damn it, I thought it’d help, Cassie!”

The severity of his words leaves you speechless. You never heard him really raise his voice, let alone come close to yelling.

“But, clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered.” Tony moves from the doorway, taking fast steps past you towards the main door before you can say anything.

In an effort to keep him from storming out, you reach out for his arm as he brushes by. Instantly, he pulls away as if you're made of open flames. You try to show the hurt on your face, but now that your anger has started to dissipate, you notice a similar transformation in Tony. To your benefit, though, it keeps his feet firmly planted. 

“I’m not some broken person you need to protect.” you admit, avoiding the potential anger still in his eyes. 

“Wow, really? Didn’t know.” 

Always with the jokes and sarcasm. You lift your head to Tony’s expectant gaze, causing you to sigh heavily.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he states dryly, leaning back against the kitchen table. “Why are you still here?”

“You keep assuming I hate my life.” 

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, rather dramatically in your opinion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” he responds, mocking your words from earlier. “You avoid me like the plague lately, and I don’t know how you expect me to just see you unhappy and say nothing”

“That has nothing to do with work-”

“Then what is it?” 

There’s something else in his eyes, something like the sparkle you saw all those months ago. 

You look at him with pleading eyes of your own. A sense of entrapment overwhelms you, stuck with the choice between potentially ruining everything or, well, still potentially ruining everything. You wish he really could just read your mind and understand. Understand that you didn’t want to leave him, that you were avoiding him to protect your own, admittedly fragile, heart. 

"Can't you just accept that I don't want to leave?" you manage, your voice barely louder than a pin drop.

Your heart flutters as he steps closer, though it shouldn't surprise you; he's never been one to respect personal space, and an argument wouldn't change that.

"No, I need to hear you say it," his tone is low, almost taunting, and his unyielding gaze sends another wave of fluttering through you.

"I don't want to leave you."

In the next second, Tony's lips crash against yours, pinning your back to the wall with a heavy thud. You don’t notice, the world fading with the taste of vanilla on your tongue and the scratch of his beard on your chin. Your thoughts become a blur as Tony's teeth graze your lips, and his hands squeeze your waist, pulling you closer, the arc reactor pressing into your skin. 

When the kiss ends, you're both left panting, yet he still clings to you, gripping your waist like he’s scared you’re going to run away. 

“I told you- the last thing I want is for you to leave.” he says sternly, voice still low. You can’t see his face, buried in the crook of your neck, but the heavy breath on your skin makes you lightheaded.

“Tony-”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s wrong to think I know what’s best for you. I just want you to be happy.” 

“I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“I care about you too much for that, Cassie.”

“I’m your assistant, Tony.”

Tony gently cups a hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his, his thumb caressing your cheek. He studies your face intently, searching for any signs that he should stop while he's ahead. You stopped counting how often he leaves you a mess with his eyes, and try your best not to stare at his swollen lips.

“Then tell me you don’t feel the same.” he whispers.

A beat of silence passes, the fire crackling in the next room uninterrupted. 

“I…can’t.” you answer hesitantly.

The confession hangs heavy in the cabin’s stagnant air. Your mind racing a thousand miles per hour, waiting for the dream to end. 

“What are you so afraid of?”

“Doing this wrong, ruining everything.” Your eyes squeeze shut from embarrassment.

Tony laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said, before kissing you again. It’s soft and slower than before, calloused hands still cupping your face.

“I think you’re the one who worries too much. When has anything bad happened to you when you’re with me?” Tony suggests, grinning, his eyes filled with warmth. 

You want to mention an office party a few months ago, where a drunk attendee threw up on your shoes, but you let him make his point. 

“Let me do the worrying for a bit, sound good?”

THREE WEEKS LATER

You felt like you traded seasons getting back to New York at the start of spring. You hadn’t gone home, instead staying in the tower at Tony’s request. You didn’t mind it at all, being surrounded with more comfort than you could ask for. 

Tony made it his personal mission to keep you away from all things work related, despite how many times you told him you enjoyed helping him. One small problem being that he left for a mission a few days ago, and you haven’t got the faintest clue where he was or when he was returning. The first day, you relished in a bit of solitude, reading books that sat on your shelf the last two years untouched or catching up with friends that you lost touch with. To your relief, most understood your reason for disconnecting, and the books were captivating. Now, however, it was day three, and you were starting to do the one thing he asked you not to— worry.

Just as the rain starts to splatter the tall windows of his penthouse, you’re considering reaching out to Fury or Hill to make sure he’s at least still breathing. The only thing that stops you is the ding! of the elevator, turning your nerves back down to zero.

When you meet him at the door, a wide smile breaks out on his face—surprised you’re still there.

“How was it?” you ask, as Tony drops his bag and moves towards you. You feel slightly awkward in this new territory with him, shifting your weight anxiously.

“We’re getting closer to the scepter. Hydra’s pulling out all the stops these days.” 

As Tony steps into the light, a deep freshly-stitched cut under his right eye comes into view. Before you can say anything about the cut, you notice the large bandage on his arm, and a matching bruise crawling up his shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” 

Tony slowly peels off his jacket, tossing it onto the couch behind you. “Oh, this? This is nothing, you should see the other guy.” he says with a flashy grin.

You’re busy scanning for more injuries, eyes raking for more bandages and stitches. Tony doesn’t let you continue for long though, taking your hands in his.

“What’d I tell you about worrying?” he teases, stroking your hair and planting a quick kiss on your lips.

You give an annoyed sigh, wishing he didn’t irritate and charm you in the same breath so much.

“I think it’s natural to worry when you’re bleeding.” you gruff, letting Tony pull you into a tight embrace. 

“Then I’m not doing my job, am I?” You don’t protest when his hands roam over your body, placing light kisses against your neck. “Let me take your mind off things.”

The light kisses on your neck turn into heavy bites, leaving marks along your collarbones. He creates his own path along your skin, sighing softly as his mouth finds every inch of skin your pajamas didn’t cover. You’re a panting mess as he trails down your body, twisting a hand into his messy locks. 

When he kneels before you, you feel unsteady on your feet. You wish you could say you two had gone this far already, but Tony considered himself a self-proclaimed gentleman and insisted you wait. It seems three days away from you was enough for the chivalry to fly out of the window. 

He stops for a moment, fingers hooked in your shorts, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the inside of your trembling thigh.

“Cassian?”

“Mhm?” You mumble, shutting your eyes. Nerves and anticipation mix terribly in your stomach, making you unable to process the desire on his face. You feel the fabric of your shorts slide down your legs with your panties. The cool air doesn’t help you any, rendering your skin sensitive and Tony’s hand feel like a furnace. 

“Relax, doll.”

You suck in a breath as his lips wrap around your clit, body stilling— the hand in his hair tightening. Weeks of Tony’s insistent waiting had you thinking your first time with him would be slower- you were ill-prepared for the way he runs through your folds with absolute filth. He moans into you, keeping a tight hold on your thighs to hold you close. 

He’s quick—grazing teeth against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance— just to drag the tip of his tongue against your length and return your clit to start the cycle all over again. You feel the wetness coating the inside of your thighs, saturing his scratchy stubble on your skin. 

You bring your free hand to the back of the couch as he continues, sighing into your core and sending shockwaves up your spine. You try to maintain some type of balance, legs growing shaky again in pleasure rather than anxiety for a change. 

“Tony, god, that’s-” You’re cut off by your own moan when you feel Tony insert a finger into your soaking cunt, rocking slowly as his mouth finds its way back to your clit.

He pulls away a moment, letting his thumb keep the pressure against your sensitive bud. Your head tilts back, nails digging into the leather behind you. Out of your view, Tony wears a smug grin, pleased to see you taking his directive to heart. The middle of the living room might not have been his first choice, but it’s well worth it. Besides the fact you taste like heaven, it’s worth hearing every sound escape your lips.

Getting caught up in that, however, caused him to loosen the grip on your thighs. When his fingers curve inside you, your hips jerk against him. The calloused fingers tighten on your legs, to your slight dismay.

“Easy, doll, I got you.” he mumbles, returning his focus to eliciting more intoxicating moans from you.

Tony renders you a complete mess sooner than you’d like to admit, gasping above him as the warmth in your core grows overwhelming. If you told yourself a year ago that your boss would have you panting and begging, you wouldn’t believe it. Regardless of belief, his tongue pulls plea after plea from you. Your stomach feels painfully coiled- mind absorbed with the wet, filthy sound of Tony’s mouth on your cunt.

With another curve of his finger, you sent over the edge—crying out Tony’s name like a prayer and abandoning the hand tangled in his hair to hold yourself up. Tony lets you ride out your orgasm against his fingers, kissing the damp skin between your legs and muttering soft praises. 

It’s not until you sense him standing again in front of you that you open your eyes. You immediately want to take it back when you see the shit-eating grin covering his shiny face. The sight sends a new wave of desire through you, staring at his mouth with your lips parted, panting softly. Did he have to look so good constantly?

“As cute as you are when you’re worried, I think I prefer this look on you.”

[player1064]

Hi! All such great carraville drabbles so far! If you’re still doing them, may I request them coming out publicly and the various reactions of news broadcasters, other ex/current footballers and of course, the internet. Thanks!

aaa thank you!!! and yessss I love fics where it's public reaction to stuff and i LOVE multi-media type fics so this was fun to write (even though i am much too lazy to come up with fake twitter usernames)

---

Group: MU mob

Phillip: forwarded an instagram post by gneville2 Phillip: ???

Gary: what Gary: do u think I was too nice to him in the caption Gary: I can edit it to add something about scousers maybe Gary: or how he never won the league

Phillip: you and Carragher???

Gary: ?

Paul: whyd u make me look at that rot first thing in the morning Paul: put me off my breakfast that did

Ryan: im not installing instagram for this whats he done now

Nicky: ^

Phillip: he’s dating Carragher?????

Ryan: where have u been for the last 2 years its literally all he talks about

Phillip: America! I have been! In! America! Phillip: Gaz I can’t believe you told them and not me?

Paul: I wish he hadnt told us to be fair Paul: they r so annoying

Gary: sorry phil I mustve forgot Gary: timezones etc Gary: gtg we’re having breakfast before he has to head to studio 🥞😍

David: nice post Gary 😊🏳️‍🌈 Happy for you x

Chat: Stevie G

Missed call from Stevie

Stevie: Carra

Missed call from Stevie

Stevie: Jamie Lee Duncan Carragher Stevie: pick up your damn phone Stevie: you are shit at this best friend thing yknow Stevie: also Gary Neville??? Stevie: you were moaning about him when I called you just last week Stevie: but if he makes you happy that’s alright then Stevie: tell him he’s buying me a pint next time I’m home Stevie: in liverpool mind Stevie: don’t care if you love him you won’t see me in pub in manchester

The Daily Mail

LIVERPOOL AND MAN UTD LEGENDS JAMIE CARRAGHER AND GARY NEVILLE REVEAL GAY RELATIONSHIP?

Former rivals turned co-pundits posted Valentine’s day messages on their Instagram accounts which appear to show an intimate relationship between the two men, who were both married to women for over ten years. Neither has responded for comment.

Comments:

> they’re the worst pundits on sky anyway they don��t even try to hide the bias for their teams

> gary neville’s always trying to bring politics into everything rishi was right he should stick to football!

> well I will be getting my commentary from MOTD moving forward. wish I could cancel sky sports but can’t afford to miss all the match coverage so they will be getting a strongly worded letter from me instead.

The Guardian

OPINION: IT’S 2024. WHY HAS THE FOOTBALL WORLD NOT CAUGHT UP?

There are still no openly gay players in the top tier of the men’s game. Now that two retired premier league footballers have come out, we have to ask: why is this headline news?

Both Liverpool and Manchester United football clubs have posted messages in support of Neville & Carragher, and so have many current and former players. But it begs the question why they thought that support might not be implicit, or why the two pundits had to publicly “come out” at all.

Comments:

> tbh I didn’t even know who they were until I saw Beckham’s ig story 💀

> surprised Gerrard’s not said anything, thought he and Carragher were mates >>> probably can’t if he wants to keep his manager contract $$$

> the guardian: why is the media making a fuss about two ex-footballers coming out? the guardian: is part of the media making a fuss about two ex-footballers coming out…

Twitter

Sports - Trending Gary Neville 264k tweets

Jamie Carragher 151k tweets

@.1111 they’ve been obsessed with each other for years is anyone really surprised

@.222 ngl I thought Gary Neville was already out as gay? You’re telling me people have believed he’s straight this whole time??

@.333 it’s giving slow burn enemies to lovers 150k words…

@.444 sky already wheels the two of them out together whenever they need to promote ANYTHING I bet it’s gonna get 10x worse now

Chat: J ❤️

G 👹👸: good luck on show tonight G 👹👸: no vday dinner :( G 👹👸: I shall have to waste away and pine instead G 👹👸: drown my sorrows etc

J ❤️: should be back to hotel by 1 at the latest J ❤️: I know that’s past ur bedtime old man so don’t wait up

G 👹👸: I will be up (😉😉) and ready to give you your dessert 😘 G 👹👸: might have a cheeky nap before though to be fair

[doomed-era]

how did gaffen + zelda feel about the lockup vs the castle town prison? also . im slightly afraid to ask this but how does gaffen feel about his hometown/raurus settlement post or pre cal?

get ready for an insane amount of shit I just made up with no canon basis just because I like my hyrule kingdom clearly morally ambiguous if not outright just bad in true oot/ww/tp fashion because as stated I think I should be allowed to hit fujibayashi with hammers

ok so first of all. for reference. the scale of shit in gboh is bigger than it is in the actual game. to account for how much time it takes in game-time to get around the map Etc and also because I think it should be bigger. this goes double for castle town it is larger and the lockup is larger. castle's probably the same size though

so fun fact gaffen has actually been present at a few executions :) the lockup is not commonly used pre-calamity, at least not as much as the time it was built. mostly it's a place where the royal guard hangs out when they're off-duty/occasionally will trap monsters. recently though they have been keeping a few prisoners down there. yeah remember how i was talking about the neo-yiga. uh. basically theres two yiga clans in my au. anyone they suspect of working with them ends up down there. some of them have been found innocent posthumously but its fine lol. better safe than sorry !

anyway he basically does this.

castle town prison he hasn't really been to its never been something he's ever been assigned to as its more for. Not Royal Guards. but again it hasn't stayed very full recently due to the high demand for cheap labor excavating. things. stuff. yeah its not all sheikah they have prisoners do it occasionally. another one of king rhoam's excellent and pragmatic decisions ! //stares at the camera. gaffen being the freak that he is thinks this is incredible and amazing and great

uhh well. zelda knows about all this but honestly? to her it's all fine. mostly. she demanded a posthumous pardon for multiple people, but she's completely fine with unpaid prison labor. thats great i mean who wants to rot in a cell when you can die in a rockslide

as for rauru settlement? gaffen isn't even aware it was his old home at the moment. zelda probably ends up telling him as it's one of the few pieces of personal information she managed to wring out of him before he died. doesn't know his birthday though. post calamity gaffen is birthdayless and just celebrates his resurrection date. but honestly i think he's just in shock when he hears it. hylia held information about his past over his head for years and would get pissed if he asked for more so zelda giving it so willingly would definitely make him trust her. but i think they go there together and she tries to tell him what she knows. he sort of mourns over it silently. sits in the abandoned houses drops a rock down the well for fun wonders if he used to do that. they might end up meeting his great great grand-nephew there 👍

uhh pre calamity he used to think of it fondly but then just kind of. doesn't have an opinion of it anymore. can't really be bothered to have one. he can't really relate to his old friends after a certain point

[sw33t-t00th-4u]

hi everybody sorry i haven’t been active on this account! between the anime brain rot and other things happening in my personal life, i kinda forgot abt this account LMFAOOOO

that being said, i’ve been thinking about making a post about a certain blog for a minute and due to recent events, i feel more compelled than ever. i don’t think they have a big following or anything, but please take the time to read this before you consider buying a tarot reading from @/livingdeaddivination or supporting them financially in any way. i’ll try to keep it short and sweet lol. (⚠️ tw: loss, pet neglect)

i knew “anan” in real life, and they used to be my friend. i’m feeling especially hurt lately because anan wished death upon my best friend, who spent the last two years of her life battling a rare cancer that only 30 something people on this whole planet have. she wanted to be the first person to beat it. she was so close, but she unfortunately lost that battle last week, and anan got their wish. im heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her. anan’s exact words were “i hope the cancer kills her quick”. i’m heartbroken and angry and i feel so empty without her, and this is what anan wanted. if someone claiming to be as spiritual as she does speaking something like that into existence doesn’t deter you from supporting her financially, please keep reading.

very little, if any, of the money they could possibly make from these readings will go toward the wellbeing of her pets, as she’s very negligent towards them. i witnessed it first hand. she not only separated 5 out of 7 young kittens from their mother too early and selfishly kept two of them along with the mother, but she hardly put in any effort when it came to taking care of the four cats she had. she never cleaned her cat’s litter boxes and her cats also had worms and fleas and were in bad shape. my late best friend even offered to give her medicine to treat them for free, and she refused it. two of those four cats ran away, and instead of rehoming her remaining two cats, they live outside. not only that, but she had a hamster that she was “scared” to take care of. their hamster was in a small wire cage instead of a proper enclosure, and they would often take out the wheel because “it was annoying”. she kept her hamster in her closet and didn’t feed her, give her water, clean her cage, or even let her run around in a hamster ball. thst hamsyer lived like that for two months, though there's no telling how much of that time the hamster was actually alive for. she neglected that poor hamster to death after i provided her with all the things she could possibly need as i had two hamsters pass away from old age and i had taken care of her for a few months beforehand. had i know that that would be that hamster’s fate, i would’ve never given that hamster back to them.

there’s absolutely more that i could say, but like i said, i wanna keep it short. i didn’t want to make a post so soon because i didn’t want to say anything irrational out of grief, but nothing i could say could ever be as irrational as anything anan has ever said and done. i’m sure if they see this post, they’ll just deflect and make me look bad, block me, delete their account, and make a new one and pretend like nothing happened, but i needed to get this off my chest. if you read this far, thank you, and please keep this in mind before supporting @/livingdeaddivination financially in any way.

[atrirose]

back when enhablr used to be full of fics, headcanons and reaction. but now i see people wih the aesthetics, small texts but less works if i am not wrong.

when i see vissit a new enha writing blog, i see the themes, small texts. it's so irritating :( like how can you even see the small text... plus, the amount of symbols and other fonts they use, tsk

i am not blaming you :( but telling that mosot of enhablr has become aesthetic or something like top notch. everyone only focuses on how the blog themes, texts are but not the works.

but can i also know like what is suggestive?? isn't it like suggesting a sexual thought or something that leads to sex?? since you are an adult, i am asking you this.

but no, i literally see 15 or 16 year olds writing about suggestive stuff for enha, then telling mentions of fwb :0 i cannot believe when enhable used to have fluff fluff fluff where ever we searched.

i still remember you in my dash back in 2021, you wrote so much fluff istg, i used to wait for your works :( i wish we got that enhablr writing community back but literally wherver i see it is suggestive.

after all, this is my opinion...

hii ! at the start of the ask i thought you were shading me but ㅠㅠ yeah i understand what you mean , the fonts, themes, and small text usages has become more common now instead of the actual matter, i do use small text too but its only for the decor purposes, and my main focus (fics or hcs) are all large text with no fonts bc it is insensitive to use fancy text for those stuff and deprive people who cant read them, and i get that blogs do focus on their appearance more than the writing, bc let’s be honest people only see what they like to and if you look around if a blog ‘doesn’t look aesthetic’ people tend to ignore it even if the content is good. so bc of that many people have adopted the whole persona, i didnt change a lot except the fact i started posting a lot less and have not been active here, i think its a lot to do with adulting, all of the older members of enhablr now either have jobs/uni/exams or are just not feeling like doing this anymore.

and it’s totally fine for you to feel irritated by that, so u can js avoid those kind of blogs but you also need to remember that it’s their blog and they can chose what to do with it and how to decorate it, we can’t control that bc people have their own choices, but yeah the content being less i have seen a lot and i do agree with even tho i don’t read often i too get annoyed by the tags being flooded with nsfw content which is super creepy bc js few months ago it was all fluff as you mentioned and i hoped that the space stayed wholesome. i cant really control that but i hope people dont js see boys in that light.

suggestive to me is js a little bit more kissing/ implication of or suggestive jokes but i am not sure since i do not interact with those kind of content i might not be the best person to ask this, im sorry. but it is very uncomfortable when minors write nsfw.

HELP NOT YOU SAYING I POSTED A LOT 😛, jk anyways aww that is so sweet that i had someone waiting for me, i did post a lot of fluff and it will be a train ride if i read all my work, i will probably cringe 😔, i will always write fluff if that makes u happy if i do post in the future .. , sorry it’s js not the same anymore so i might not be the same atrirose who use to post every week. i am in touch with someone of my moots which were their with me since the start of this account or enha writer who use to flood the tag with tooth rotting fluff and well .. busy , busy , busy so i cant promise anything but hey we still have their old works you can binge. 

your opinion is totally valid.

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost!!! i am sobbing weeping crying omg twenty four hours is coming to an end and it is so very bittersweet. i found 24hrs on ao3 and stayed up until three am binging it, then immediately went and followed you on tumblr, and ive been keeping track of it ever since. im not very good a tumblr since i only started using the app for fanfic last october, and i am one of those people that sometimes is ashamed of being a fangirl, so it’s almost unbelievable to me that i have a space where no one will know it’s me and i can enjoy whatever i want. im still trying to adjust to that, tell myself that it’s okay to repost fanfics and that this is a safe space. but twenty four hours has helped me with a LOT of that. before i used to kinda be ashamed to go on tumblr, but now i scroll it daily bcs i didn’t want to miss any updates on the fic. i also made the plunge and officially got an ao3 account, after oh about, seven or eight years of reading fan fiction practically non stop. so im getting there, and i just wanted you to know that twenty four hours helped me to get there.

and i think the main reason that twenty four hours has helped me get there is because of the quality of your writing. you write beautifully, intricately, and most of all—truthfully. ive never read an x reader that has felt so real, so fleshed out and most of all, relatable. i would find myself having internal monologue as i read from the ‘reader’s’ perspective and then the next paragraph would, sometimes word for word, have ‘reader’ think what i was thinking. this fic was also so healing, in a way. the way you used literary devices to describe such complicated situations had me often feeling relieved—like i had just let something go. as someone with a lot of baggage right now and who has a hard time believing they could ever be loved, it was at the very least comforting to have my insecurities and my negative qualities forgiven and proven untrue through ‘reader’ if that makes sense.

ik this is sappy as hell but i genuinely feel this way. your writing has moved me in a way that actual published books haven’t done for me in a while. so i just want to thank you for the time, effort, and thought that went into this fic. and secondly, i want to suggest the idea of adapting this into a novel to be published or a screenplay for a movie, in case no one has mentioned that to you or you haven’t thought of it. i really believe you have something good here, and with your talent, i could see you being very successful. this story of these two people—who both have internal wounds inflicted on themselves, each other, or from the past—who then grow more self aware and choose to be honest, even when it’s hard, is such a rare thing to see in literature or any kind of art. and i think the world needs more of that. bcs, like i said, this fic was more than just a fic to me. it touched me deeply. i cried, i laughed, and i reflected my own self. in short, it was a journey in more ways than one.

so thank you—for your art, for ‘reader’, and for eddie. i can’t wait for the epilogue and to read whatever stories you may have planned for the future.

<3

(ps so sorry to have word vomited in your ask box.)

first and foremost — never apologize for word vomit in my ask box. i am always a-okay with that. 🖤

i don’t even know what to say. i have this terrible habit of putting a lot more of myself than i care to admit into both my readers and my ocs, and most of the time, it’s not the good parts. usually, it’s the absolute worst parts of myself. i take all the rot inside, and i throw it into these projections, and i try to justify how someone with those qualities would still be deserving of love. it’s always been a coping mechanism. always. and then i’ve always strived to be a better writer, make my words worth reading, because i know how much of myself i’ve put into it.

to know other people see themselves in reader or eddie or any character i write is both so strangely hopeful but also so saddening, and it just makes me want to give you the biggest hug 🫂

on the note of publishing, i have definitely considered it. it’s just a really scary journey to decide to take. but the day i do decide to take the plunge, whether with this story or any other i’ve written or any entirely new one, you all will be the first to know 🖤🖤🖤

thank you so so much for reading, for letting my writing touch your soul the way it has. i am so honored that this fic has had this type of affect on you. this message genuinely made me cry. i am sending you all the love. <3

[papirouge]

Sorry to be doing this in your inbox, I don't really like doin this, you can ignore this if you want. Mentions of sexual abuse ahead.

I accidentally saw some tiktok screenshots of people reacting to Amber Heard's rape account, and they left me feeling so gross. All of them thought the story was not a big deal, or even hot. And let me clarify, I dont know mcuh about this case, I havent been following it because I dont care about celebrities so i have no idea whos guilty and whos not, or if both are. Dont even know if the rape story is true, but the fact that people are reacting this way, a story that is similar to things women have actually gone through... and some even said "I don't even follow this case", basically admiting that there wasnt even any sort of bias or knowledge of whether she might have been lying or not.

Its all so disheartening. But i guess it does make sense. Ive heard that men invade or lurk womens rape groups where they discuss their sexual abuse to masturbate to these girls traumatic tales. And i remember years ago stumbling upon this forum where people (both men and women) woould post articles of real rape histories as fap folder and would try to dig the most details of these stories they could find, and would try to find photos of the female víctims.

And i avoid reading comments on rape stories because ive even seen victim blaming comments on stories where the rape victim was a 10 year old girl.

I guess porn truly has rotted men brains, where they see violent, hateful "sex" as normal or kinky. And many girls grew up reading violent degenerate fanfiction, so they think these stories are sexy or whatever.

Like I dont know. Perhaps im exaggerating, and I should lighten up. i cant help but remember feminists saying that no woman wants to be raped in response to assholes who claimed some women did, even if she found the man to be desirable, but the girls stating ir would be hot if it was Johnny depp are kinda undoing all that work. And i wonder if men would find it so 'fun' if it was a man telling a story about getting raped with a broken bottle.

Sorry to be vomiting all these words in your inbox lol. Im calmer right now. Guess im a little sensitive because it males me upset about how little people care about prostitutes and porn actresses and im doubting there will ever be an end to these industries. Men don't care. Women don't care. The only people who really care are radfems, a portion of Christians (lets be honest, many "christians" don't give a fuck) and some conservative people. And even then, some still put most of the blame on the prostituted instead of on the ones who create the demand (if theres no demand, theres no offer, simple as).

And like I said, i have no idea about this case, i'm no a depp stan or heard stan so its not really about them, just how messed up people act towards rape ahhhh

It's okay anon, my ask will always be open and I really appreciate how you and many other will share your insight about things that matter to you💜

Best advice I would give you anon is to realize that shit on the internet ≠ reality.

Yes, porn culture is widespread. Yes, violence is glamorized. Yes, weirdos fap themselves over female trauma...... but please, PLEASE for the sake of your mental wellbeing, just know that these websites are nothing but a tiny window of this World. Delete your TikTok & Instagram account. Slow down on 4chan/lolcow/kiwifarm because they will transform you into a cynical doomer. Tumblr should be on thin freaking ice. None of this is the reality. The degenerates displaying their obscenities aren't the norm.

Porn culture is a reality but some men are waking up. Look up the #nofap #pornfree movement. Good things are happening.

Beside radfem, Depp wk, and misogynist clout chasers, nobody cares about this trial. Most people only see crazy rich people tearing each other up. This case isn't gonna change the treatment of abused women worldwide and I hate whitefem acting like it did - they just obsess over it bc they relate to Heard, their bisexual White queen and also because they consider themselves as the standard of feminism ("if it happens to US now we're gonna care about it"). Note they NEVER had so much energy when another A+ celebrity (Megan Thee Stallion) got victim of abuse and she too got shredded into piece by crazy people online.... These whitefem they didn't care. They didn't wrote these corny post whining about how much step back for feminism it was🐊😭 (bc "feminism" couldn't be represented by a Black female rapper, you know 🙃)

See anon? This is only a circus. This performance outrage only manage to exhaust us mentally and make us fall into a doomer mentality. Terminally online people antics being continuously commented by terminally online people. Each defending its own little Chapel while pretending being more virtuous than the others. No wonder you feel drained by it.

Don't let the internet circus affect your mood.

[tohokuu]

i talk to my dad's side now! it was kind of a long time, a year before my mom let me and my younger brother talk to them. i actually secretly talked to them since we were having a hard time that we don't even buy groceries. so my aunt had a burner account, she tried to talk to me and so i did. she asked me our needs, and gave us groceries and money. my mom still kinda didn't knew back then, she was still quite mad but a month passed and she let us go see the other side of our family.

i'm actually the oldest of my nieces and i have one younger brother. i'm still kinda stressed somtimes with having one (especially since my brother more of a procrastinator than me).

oh and i also drink, although not often. i just drink during my periods or special events. smoking tho, i've never tried it, it kinda left a print on me because of my dad-

my mom is quite close with me again! tho another stress builded up because of my mom's mom conflict but yeah... she even came out to me for being bi! and i also did, she just came out to me since i was the first one

i'll be sending music recs from time to time! then i'll try to see what i think fits you hehe

- ☀️

this ask has been rotting in my askbox for quite some time.. im so sorry

but i'm glad you're talking to your family again and your aunts a real g for helping you guys out like that. and i'm also the oldest, it's so scary omg-

and pls drink safely !

i'm happy that you and your mother mended your relationship. life is honestly way stress free when you don't have tension w your parents. (that's how it's been for me) and i remember telling me about your mom !! kudos to her :))))

and i'll be waiting for your recs <33

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.IV: Danced of the Damned

pairing(s):  Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre:  Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, slight Fluff, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature language, mentions of death, hints of traumatic experiences, blood, etc. 

word count: 5k

synopsis:  How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

You don’t know exactly what you were expecting to find in the archives of the Town Hall. Maybe a couple old files holding the ancestral information of Moon Dye or a couple ancient photographs where the faces are too blurred and rotted to recognize. Even the finding of a mere rusted pocket watch would have crossed your mind—not a thick registry stuffed full of unthinkable truths. 

In your defense, you just happened to stumble upon the records in the dank, dusty basement where the town’s archives stay. It was hidden in a secret compartment behind chalky boxes of cold cases that were forgotten a long, long time ago—how else were you to satiate your curiosity? Inside the mess of cobwebs and dust, there sat the information that would both make and break your sanity. 

And maybe if Jaebeom hadn’t approached you in that alleyway and confirmed your suspicions… your mind would have been able to come up with some sort of rationalization. 

“Look, I wanted to tell you so many times…” You can’t bring yourself to meet Mark’s gaze, finding more interest in swirling the contents of your untouched tea. Through the corner of your eye, however, you can see your companion feverishly shaking his head, “But knowing about me would put you in danger, (Y/N)... I couldn’t do that to you.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make, Mark.” 

“I know that, but—fucking hell.” Mark buries his face in his palms, still rocking back and forth, “It shouldn’t be like this… God, I never wanted this—” 

“And you think I did?” You hiss, uncaring about the pure venom in your tone. “How the fuck am I supposed to process all of this? That vampires and werewolves and witches and probably goddamn pixies exist? That my best friend has magical powers and talks to the dead?” 

“I don’t—” Mark timidly shrugs, “talk to the dead…” 

“Well, at least there’s that much.” A heavy sigh passes from your lips, expelling barely any tension from your aching chest. You toy with the handle of your teacup before finally gathering the willpower to meet Mark’s eyes. His irises are wild and filled with all kinds of emotion, you immediately notice. Probably a mere reflection of your own. 

As much as you want to stay angry at your best friend—you physically can’t. No matter how many times your head and your heart go back and forth. Mark lied to you. Mark has been lying to you all this time. But something inside of you won’t let your eyes see past the genuine remorse and hurt written along his face. 

He’s still your best friend. 

Mark sighs, “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?...” 

“I want you to tell me the truth—the whole truth.”

“I can’t do that,—” 

“I at least deserve that much, don’t you think?” Mark withers beneath your murmur, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated breath. After another moment of silence that seems to stretch on for hours, Mark grabs a nearby bottle of bourbon, pours himself a glass and finally nods. 

“If I tell you everything, there’s no going back… Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Not really, but I don’t have that choice anymore.” You hum. “I need to know.” 

Mark nods again. “Where do you want me to start?” 

“At the very beginning.” 

The way Mark throws back the alcohol sparks uneasiness in your gut, but not as much as the gloomy darkness that overtakes his gruff tone. 

“The main story begins with the first ever vampires that came into existence, known as the Prime Two…” Mark moves to pour himself another drink, but changes his mind and ends up drinking straight from the bottle. You wonder whether you should ask for a sip as well. 

“But you know them already… as Im Jaebeom and Park Jinyoung.” 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Youngjae releases a content breath as he steps into the warmth of the bookstore, effectively escaping the post-rain chill of the outside. He shakes the remaining coolness from his hands before heading toward the front counter, where Bambam is stationed flipping through a high-end fashion magazine. Youngjae fights the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Bam?” 

Bambam looks up at Youngjae’s voice. “Hey, man. What’s going on?” 

“I need your help.” Youngjae surveys the area of the store, checking down aisles and around corners for any signs of life. The racing of his heart somewhat slows at the lack of other customers, allowing him to turn back to the cashier and continue, “The coven is in danger. Nayeon-noona is dead.” 

“I heard about that. I’m so sorry, hyung.” Bambam nods his head, “What can I do?”

“Are you able to see an account of everyone who steps foot in this town? Visitors included?” 

“Yeah, I know some guys who can get whatever information you need. You feel like taking a trip up to the police station?” 

Youngjae hums in response, waiting patiently for Bambam to lock up the register. He watches the younger throw on his coat before meeting him behind the counter. With Bambam in tow, Youngjae leaves the comfort of the shop. After Bambam locks the door, the two continue through the cold in the direction of the police station. Youngjae again checks his surroundings, feeling more than just the chill of the air. 

“Did you��� find what killed her?” 

“What?” 

Bambam repeats again a little louder. “Nayeon. Do you know what killed her?” 

“A hunter and another witch.” Youngjae explains, “We have records of them murdering countless covens before coming to Moon Dye.” 

“I may not know everything about this supernatural stuff, but don’t hunters hunt vampires...?”

“We’re not sure why either of them are specifically targeting witches.” Youngjae shudders, pulling his coat tighter around his shoulders. “I just hope we can find them before…” 

“Hey.” Bambam halts Youngjae’s pace with a hand on his arm. “We’re gonna find these douchebags and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else.” 

Youngjae weakly smiles. “Thanks, Bam.” 

“C’mon. I’m freezing my ass off.” Youngjae follows Bambam’s wishes and continues down the street, feeling less and less paranoid knowing the younger is by his side. Instead, Youngjae’s mind thinks back to your sudden entrance only mere minutes ago.

Youngjae wanted to stay at the mausoleum and help Mark deescalate the situation, but the older insisted that he continue the search. He can’t help but remember the betrayal across your features—the way you looked at him and Mark as if they were aliens. 

“Why did you give (Y/N) Mayor Bhuwakul’s old diary?” The question escapes Youngjae’s lips before he can stop himself. His inquiry visibly takes Bambam off guard, manifesting in the form of confusion along his features, before shifting to realization. 

“Because she deserves to know.” 

“But what about Mark-hyung? You know what this will do to him, right? To him and (Y/N)?” 

Bambam shakes his head. “I know Mark cares about (Y/N), and (Y/N) cares about Mark.” He peers at Youngjae through the corner of his eye and shrugs, “That’s not gonna change just because she knows the truth, hyung. I doubt that will ever change.” 

Youngjae doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the moving pavements at his feet. He knows Bambam is right, and knows both Mark and (Y/N), but something in his gut doesn’t feel right—like a sense that something is coming. 

Something bad… Something really, really bad. 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“So you’re telling me that not only are there vampires almost a thousand years old running around without a care in the world, but you’re also the leader of the town witch coven who protects Moon Dye from supernatural threats?” Mark nods at your recount, holding back a smile at the cute furrow in your eyebrows. “You realize how absolutely unreal that sounds? Right?” 

“You said you wanted the truth.” 

“I’m only slightly regretting that decision now.” You sigh, smoothing a hand over your scalp. Mark notices a stray hair fall across your forehead at your movement. He’s not sure whether it’s the light buzz radiating throughout his veins or the way your eyes seem to glitter in the sunlight, but his mind has to warn his hands to remain glued to the table. Still, Mark can’t help but feel disappointed as you brush the strand away. 

You shrug your shoulders, “How… How do you do it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like…” Mark carefully watches your expression, noticing the slight tremor in your tone as you trail on. “How do you… do magic…?” 

“Well, there’s a bunch of ways.” He explains, “Spells. Potions. Channeling objects. Control of the elements. Some witches can even see events from the past, present or future.” 

“So you don’t wave around wands and ride on broomsticks?” 

The first genuine laugh leaves Mark’s lips for the first time tonight. “No. Though Youngjae did try to enchant his car to fly one time.” 

“Where does it come from? The magic?” 

“It’s dependent on the witch, and the type of craft they practice.” 

Not desiring to scare you off, Mark chooses to show a more modest example. He focuses his attention onto your cup, still full of now cold tea, and murmurs a quick incantation beneath his breath. Your entire body flinches as the glass lifts at least six inches off the table, enough to hover at the level of your eyes. After a couple seconds, Mark lowers the cup back into its original place. When he meets your gaze, he expects to see fear embedded beneath your irises, but it’s the opposite: 

You seem fascinated. 

“I usually practice Traditional Magic, so I use the Earth and other natural elements to amplify my magic.” Mark says, “Most witches are born with their own powers, but that’s not always the case. 

“Youngjae—take him as an example—is a Siphoner. In order to generate magic, he has to absorb it from other things, be it objects or people.” 

“So he… siphons magic?” 

Mark smiles. “Exactly. You’re catching on pretty quick.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” You shake your head, curiously peering down at the stationary teacup before returning your attention back to Mark. “When I read through that book in the archives, I saw something about Lycanthropes… Does that mean what I think it means?” 

“Werewolves.” He states matter of factly.

“They exist too then?” 

“You remember Kim Yugyeom? Bambam’s best friend?” 

You nod. 

Mark nods too. “He’s the second in command of Moon Dye’s pack. I don’t think you’ve met the new Alpha, Bang Chan.” 

“I’ve heard the name from some of my kids.” Mark can practically feel the exhaustion from your sigh. He debates the idea of reaching across the table to take your hand in his—the loneliness of your fingers spurring him on even more. Before Mark can make up his mind, you’re already withdrawing your limbs and hiding them in the comforts of your lap. 

“I just—I’m just having a hard time processing all of this.” 

Mark shakes his head, “It’s a lot to take in, (Y/N).”

“I know, but—” You pause to lift your head, furrowing your eyebrows in his direction with the beginnings of a scowl overtaking your lips. “I’m still pissed that you kept this whole other world a secret from me. I mean, for fucksakes, Mark, you’re my best friend.” 

“I’m—I was protecting you. Knowing this stuff exists doesn’t come without consequence, (Y/N).” 

“Stop saying that, oh my god—” Mark waits as you bury your face in your palms, deeply breathing through the divots of your laced fingers. After maybe a minute of silence, you raise your head and murmur, “What is it about me knowing that puts me in danger? I was nearly killed by that vampire without knowing shit.” 

A wince overtakes Mark’s features. “It’s complicated…” 

“I’m so sick of everyone using that excuse.” You hiss, “You don’t keep something like this from me, especially the fact that you’re—” 

“Do you know how Nayeon died?” Mark can see how his sudden question takes you off guard by the widening of your eyes and pursing of your lips. You take a few moments to collect yourself, right your expression, before answering: 

“She was… killed by an animal.” 

Mark shakes his head again. “No. Nayeon was murdered by a supernatural vampire hunter and another witch.” 

You blink. “B-But… was she a—?” 

“She was a witch—an innocent witch that never provoked, nor hurt anyone.” Mark leans forward until the edge of the table presses harshly against his ribs. The uncomfort does little to garner his attention—too focused on speaking to you with his desperate eyes. “This world—my world is dark, (Y/N). The creatures in my world are even darker, including me.” 

He pretends not to catch the brief wave of unease that washes over your face. 

“Right now, there are two fucking crazies in town out to kill me and my people.” Mark gulps at the stone long formed at the back of his throat. “If I lose anyone else, I—” Unable to finish his sentence, Mark shifts his focus. “I just need you to understand, (Y/N). Please.” 

“Mark—” Tremors shoot through his veins as your fingers latch around his wrist—the warmth of your touch sobering the last remnants of his mind. He has to hold back tears at the pure sympathy that resonates from your bright irises. “I understand, okay?” 

He nods, not trusting the quality of his voice. 

You softly squeeze his arm. “No more secrets though… Promise me.” 

“(Y/N)—” 

“Promise me.”   

Mark knows he shouldn’t, but the way you’re looking at him—so calm, yet so determined—the way you always look at him… He can’t do anything but give in. 

“I promise.” He murmurs, placing a hand over your own with a weak smile. “No more secrets.” 

You nod approvingly, offering up a smile of your own. Your lips part again, as if to ask another question, when a knock sounds from the door. Mark almost verbally protests when you pull away, but holds back his annoyance to answer the unexpected visitor with a silent sigh. However, he can’t hold back his scowl at the sight of Jinyoung on his doorstep. 

“Mark. It’s good to see you.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I apologize for my sudden visit, but I needed to talk to you about—” Jinyoung’s voice trails off, which Mark quickly realizes is because of your known presence. He watches, with narrowed eyes, as you and Jinyoung exchange an array of glances before he turns back to Mark. 

He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back—” 

“She knows.” An uneasy feeling erupts in Mark’s gut at the weak expression that crosses over Jinyoung’s face. He doesn’t like how Jinyoung looks at you again, nor the blank stare you offer the vampire in response. 

Jinyoung nods. “I see…” 

“What did you—?” Mark’s phone rings before he can finish his question, temporarily relieving him from the atmosphere of awkwardness and irritation. He steps aside to allow Jinyoung the space to enter while pulling his phone from his pocket. His eyes remain fixated on the interaction between both you and Jinyoung as he answers the call, lifting the device up to his ear. 

“Please tell me you and Bam found something.” 

“It’s not much, but we at least found a lead.” Mark breathes a sigh of relief at Youngjae’s answer. As to include both you and Jinyoung into the conversation, he turns Youngjae on speaker phone, avoiding the curious glint in your gaze.  

“There’s no record in the police database of any suspicious visitors entering town within the last few months, so we’re sure they probably got into Moon Dye undetected, or at least not on city file.” 

“How does that help us?” 

“You need to let me finish, hyung.” Mark can practically hear Youngjae roll his eyes over the line. “We may not have records, but some of Bam’s friends were able to look into the cameras stationed around the border of the road that leads into town. They caught footage of a bus dropping off two young women, who were then picked up by a 2018 BMW M6. We tried to track the license plate number, but the registration is private.” 

Jinyoung murmurs with a nod, “So someone who lives here in town brought them in. It’s possible we may be dealing with more than just a hunter and a witch.” 

“I don’t think so.” Youngjae disagrees, “The tracking spell would have picked up on every accomplice involved in Nayeon-noona’s murder.” 

Mark feels sick at the slight grimace that pulls across your features. He knows you're playing strong by the way you quickly mask your discomfort. 

“Anyway, we were only able to track the vehicle as far as Poison Square. But we do have the faces of the two young women that got off of the bus.” 

“That’s something then.” Mark sighs, sharing a wary glance with Jinyoung. “What do they look like?” 

“Both are probably somewhere in their early- to mid-twenties, have dyed blonde hair and are relatively around the same height.” 

Jinyoung shakes his head. “That could be anyone. Can you be more specific?” 

“The one woman has three distinguishing beauty marks: One on the bridge of her nose, another above her upper lips, and a third near the corner of her mouth.” 

“Shouldn’t the hunter have something on them? Like a mark?” 

“We wouldn’t be able to see the hunter’s mark.” Jinyoung shuts down Mark’s inquiry with a frown, “It’s only visible to other hun—” 

“This mark… Is it a tattoo, by any chance?...” Mark nearly flinches at your sudden question—Jinyoung almost doing the same. The latter resurrects from the surprise before releasing a hesitant answer: 

“Well, I’ve never seen it myself, but… yes.” 

“Oh my fucking god…” The pure shock that overtakes your face sends warning bells chiming through Mark’s mind. He sets the phone on the table before dropping to his knees in front of your sitting form, immediately noticing the trembling of your hands. Worst case scenarios play through his thoughts like creepy puppet shows, but he pushes them away to focus on you. 

“What is it?” 

When you meet his gaze, your eyes are wild with a blend of shock  and fright. Mark feels even sicker than before, and not because of the alcohol. 

You gulp. Not once. But twice. 

“I… I know who Nayeon’s killers are.” 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Please, just let me go…” Jihyo sobs, hot tears beginning to spill down her burning cheeks. The rope around her wrists chafes uncomfortably at her skin, eating away at what little dignity remains in her heart. “I really don’t understand what you want from me…” 

Momo releases a huff—the sight and sound mirroring a dragon blowing smoke through his nostrils. Jihyo watches through terrified eyes as Momo paces across the living room floor, feverishly shaking her head and mumbling incoherencies underneath her breath. The fear continues to grow when Momo stomps to where Jihyo is frozen stiff on the sofa. 

“How many fucking times do I have to repeat myself?” Momo growls, shoving her tattooed arm in Jihyo’s face. “You see this mark, then you’re a hunter. It’s not rocket science.” 

Jihyo weakly shakes her head. “You’re sick, Momo… Th-This whole thing about vampires and witches and hunters doesn’t exist…” 

It’s a lie—Jihyo knows in her heart that a part of her, a very stupid part of her, believes every little detail that has left Momo’s lips. Some of it makes too much sense not to be true: The sudden animal attacks. The mysterious disappearances. The unexplained instances she’s had ever since she moved to Moon Dye Bay. 

“I told you that—”  

Momo’s voice cuts out at the sound of a slamming door. For a moment, hope swirls through Jihyo’s gut, thinking that either Sana or (Y/N) must have come to her rescue, but the burst vanishes at the sight of Mina stepping into view—Jihyo’s fear instead skyrockets. 

Momo said she’s a witch. 

“What is going on here?” Mina demands, her tone stern and expression cold. Momo only smiles in response. 

“Sister!” She skips over to the newcomer, delicately taking Mina’s hands into her own. The act actually surprises Jihyo, not expecting the supposed, rather sadistic hunter to be capable of such affection. “Jihyo can see my mark! She’s a hunter just like me, sister!” 

Mina immediately tears her hands away, glaring at her sister with such bewilderment and venom. “Are you out of your damn mind!?” 

“Wh-What do you mean?” 

“Jihyo cannot be involved in any of this!” Goosebumps rise over Jihyo’s skin at the hidden darkness beneath Mina’s words. Her eyes glance toward the hallway, wondering the success rate of being able to reach the front door without alerting either sister. “Do you not remember what happened last time you tried to train another hunter?” 

“Things will be different this time. I am stronger now—we are stronger.” “You don’t know that for sure.” 

“Think of how easy it will be to take out the rest of Tuan’s coven with another hunter on our side, sister.” Momo persists, striking more panic through Jihyo’s already stocked body. Against her better judgement, Jihyo tries to escape her rope bindings… and unsurprisingly, fails. 

Mina shakes her head furiously. “Tuan and his witches have sided with one of The Prime brothers. We can’t risk killing another member without putting our own lives in danger—”

“All the more reason to take on another hunter.” Jihyo shrinks in on herself as Momo grabs Mina’s hand and leads her to her prisoner on the couch. “Please, sister. Think about what those witches did to us—about mother and father.” 

Silence, save for the hum of rushing blood in Jihyo’s ears, hangs in the air, thick like a pool of humid fog. Like Momo, Jihyo carefully watches Mina’s expression, searching for any features that may determine the underlyings of her fate. 

“So many lives we’ve already taken for mother and father.” Mina pulls her hand free from Momo’s and shakes her head. The rope seems to dig harder into her wrists—as does the terror in her chest when Mina murmurs her next words: 

“When will it ever be enough for you, sister?…” Jihyo’s gaze remains transfixed on Mina as she makes her way back through the kitchen, pausing to offer the bound woman an apologetic glance. “I’m so sorry you were brought into this… but I’m even more sorry that you’ll have to die because of it…” 

Whatever remaining hope inside Jihyo snaps as Mina throws her one last pitiful smile before rushing out the apartment—leaving Jihyo to the mercy of her deranged sister. 

  ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung closely watches how your fingers seem to cling to Mark’s hands as you think over your words, almost as if his mere touch is enough to keep your mind grounded. And though he’d never admit it aloud… Jinyoung feels envy that Mark is the one who’s comforting you. 

“Mina and Momo are friends of Sana from when they were in high school.” You explain, peering between both Mark and Jinyoung’s curious expressions. Though Jinyoung notices how your gaze seems to avoid his seeking eyes. “I don’t know anything about them beside the fact they’re foster sisters, and they had a pretty shitty time in the system.” 

“Then how are you so sure it’s them?” Youngjae inquires, still over the phone. “And how did you know about the hunter’s mark?” 

You pause, and based on your expression, Jinyoung would guess you’re almost reluctant to answer his questions. He moves to soothe your uneasiness, but Mark beats him to it: 

“We have to know, (Y/N)... It’s important.” 

Jinyoung’s jealousy expands at the intimate glance you and Mark share. 

After another moment of quiet and a heavy sigh, you finally speak, “The other day, I heard Jihyo comment on a tattoo that Momo had—but there was no tattoo. Neither Sana nor I saw one, so I just thought Jihyo was imagining things until…” 

“Until now.” Jinyoung finishes. He inhales an unsteady gust of air, carding his fingers through his styled hair, and shakes his head with a solemn expression, “(Y/N)... For Jihyo to be able to see Momo’s hunter mark would mean she’s a—”

“We have to warn the others.” Mark interrupts Jinyoung, suddenly rising to his feet. “Youngjae, give a call to Lia, Jisung and Minho and tell them to get their asses over here as soon as possible.” 

“Already done, hyung. I couldn’t reach Minho, but I left several voicemails and dozens of texts.” 

“I’ll start on that linking spell we talked about. This ends tonight.” Mark lifts his phone from the tabletop, readying his thumb to tap the end call button. “Get here safe, okay?” 

Youngjae hums. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.” 

“See you soon, Youngjae.” No sooner had Mark ended the call does your voice sound: 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? ‘This ends tonight’?” 

Mark shakes his head. “(Y/N)—” 

“No. I want to know what that means.” You abruptly rise, sending your chair sliding across the wood floor with a shriek. Jinyoung waits for Mark to come up with an answer, secretly enjoying the obvious discomfort amongst his features, before answering himself after maybe a minute of radio silence: 

Jinyoung places a hand on your shoulder. “It means we do what we have to do to keep everyone safe. Including you and the town.” 

“But you won’t… kill them? Right? I mean, there’s-there’s other ways that don’t have to end with anyone dead, right…?”

“I don’t know.” Jinyoung murmurs honestly, “If they’re willing to talk, then maybe. But if it comes down to it—” 

“Please, don’t…” His heart practically breaks at the shakiness of your tone. “Just—do anything you have to, but don’t kill them…” 

Mark raises an eyebrow with a scowl, “They’ve killed dozens of innocent people, (Y/N). If anything, they deserve to die.” 

“Maybe…” You shake your head. “But killing them would make you no better than them.” 

Jinyoung feels as if you just punched him in the gut with your words. He has to let go of your shoulder to reach back and support his weight against the table, suddenly dizzy and light-headed.

“We’ll…” Mark sighs, “We’ll try our best, okay?” 

You nod before wiping your palms against the side of your jeans. 

As you and Mark engage in another round of small talk, Jinyoung tries to settle the nauseous feeling in his gut and focus on anything other than the fragrant waft of your scent. He knows he would never hurt you—his self control is too grand to allow anything like that—but the lack of human blood is beginning to affect him again. For the worse. 

Usually Jinyoung is able to hold his own with only a couple droplets of animal blood every few days or so. However, his strength and other abilities have long depleted since he began this strict diet, and while he may not be anywhere near desiccation—Jinyoung is certainly hungry. And weak. Very, very weak. 

He just hopes he will be able to withstand the upcoming battle. 

“But I want to help!” 

“And the answer is no fucking way. Absolutely not.” Jinyoung returns to reality just in time to see Mark shake his head indignantly toward your seething figure. Since then, he notices the two of you have moved to a nearby lectern, where Mark is currently flipping through a large grimoire.

“I can help, I mean—Mina and Momo know me and I swear I can—” 

“It’s not fucking happening.” Mark growls, slamming the book shut and leering down at you with a sneer. Jinyoung catches how your face doesn’t falter in the slightest at his angered expression. 

With a single finger, you poke Mark’s chest. “I’m not just going to sit back and watch while you and your damn wizard gang go and play hocus pocus with a pair of killers.” 

“It’s too dangerous—!” 

“Do I look like I fucking care!? Didn’t think so!” 

Jinyoung steps in, making sure to keep his tone calm so as to not infuriate you anymore. “Mark is right, (Y/N). I’m sorry—but you’d only be a liability for us to keep track of.” 

Your expression hardens. “A liability—? Are you serious?” 

Mark doesn’t spare a second glance in your direction and instead turns to Jinyoung. He points toward the countertop behind the vampire, “Can you grab the bowl that’s there? The one from yesterday’s ritual?” 

“So that’s it then?” Jinyoung  grabs the silver bowl filled with dried blood and the charm bracelet as you continue to rant, and hands it to Mark. The witch immediately dips two fingers into the crimson liquid, closes his eyes and begins to murmur a hushed incantation. 

You shove at his shoulder. “Mark? Are you kidding me?” 

“(Y/N), please—” Jinyoung steers you away from the witch, forcing himself to keep strong underneath your icy stare. “It’s for your own good…” 

With a clenched jaw and sparkling eyes, you shake your head. For a moment, Jinyoung hopes you’ll simply turn on your heel and leave the tense atmosphere of the mausoleum, but as always—you surprise him. 

“You know, I let your and Mark’s lying about everything slide because I wanted to move past it—for a fresh start.” You lean closer until Jinyoung can practically taste your minty breath on the tip of his tongue. “But you two are still treating me like some sort of princess that needs to be protected.

“And you know what, Jinyoung?” Your hiss strikes something deep inside Jinyoung’s soul—something even he can’t place. “I’m no princess. And I don’t need to be protected. You’ll do best to get that shit through your head.” 

Neither Jinyoung nor Mark try to stop you as you stomp out the door. 

Jinyoung bites his lip before turning to Mark. “Are we… doing the right thing?” 

“I don’t know.” Mark replies, and for once, Jinyoung can relate to the lost tinge in his tone. 

“I really don’t fucking know.” 

[gracereadstoomanybooks]

answering questions I’ve been asked on TikTok✨

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QUESTION: how did you get into reading?

So, when I was in middle school (many moons ago) we had this thing called AR Testing. Basically, you read a book and take a test on it—the questions were things that happened in the book, it was really simple. If you got a good grade, you got points. The more points you earned, the more eligible you were for the reading party at the end of each semester. Me, being the nerd I am, got top of my class because I went through 8th grade level books like it was nothing. The librarian at my school brought me books from the high school to read since everything was easy for me, and alas, my addiction began. And now that I have adult money, it’s a true addiction. Also, telling my father “I’m bored” and his response being, “go read a book or something” so thanks dad.

QUESTION: what’s one book you ALWAYS recommend to people?

This one is tough because I’ve read THOUSANDS of books, but if I had to choose one, it would probably be Confess by Colleen Hoover. I fell in love with her work in high school when I first read Ugly Love, but Confess is the type of book that pulls at your heart strings, y’all. It has everything people love: humor, sexual tension, drama, love. GO BUY THE DAMN BOOK. Or honestly any book by Colleen Hoover—she’s a fucking amazing author.

QUESTION: outside of making TikToks, what do you do for a living?

I currently work at a restaurant and hate every second of it. If anyone tells you to become a server, DONT. It’s not worth the hassle, I promise you. Sure, you can make decent money but the amount of rude customers and shitty tips you receive each shift is very disheartening. If you really need a job, do anything BUT work in the food industry.

QUESTION: what’s your wattpad story about?

First question: which one? I have about 30 drafts sitting there waiting to be posted. But, I’m going to assume you’re talking about the Harry Styles fan fiction I’ve been working on for the past 4 years and haven’t had the courage to post. I’ll tell you a little about it: Elaine Aldridge is forced into a betrothal to a man she’s never met & loathes. She goes to his court and realizes things aren’t what they truly seem. And the guard her future husband sticks on her??? None other than Mr. Harry Styles. Add in some magic & deaths and you’ve got my story— The First Prince. (Honestly, that’s an extremely shitty description so if you wanna check it out go to my wattpad account)

QUESTION: how old are you?

Ahem. . . twenty-one.

QUESTION: what is your dream career?

Being a published author and having people rave about my books. That’s all. Or, an editor for a publishing company. Imagine reading all day and being paid for it🤩

QUESTION: what was your least favorite read of 2020?

I already KNOW I’m gonna get shit for this but....... the wicked king. YALL I LITERALLY COULDNT GET THROUGH IT IM SO SORRY, I STILL HAVENT FINISHED IT

QUESTION: current favorite author?

Sarah. J. Maas. I don’t know what it is about her writing style, but it’s addicting. Throne of Glass is hands down the best series I’ve ever read. A Court of Thorns and Roses is the first book I’ve EVER reread. Her stories truly suck you in and hold onto you—you get lost so easily in her writing and it’s like once you’re done with a series, nothing will compare. Or, at least that’s how I felt after finishing Kingdom of Ash. Honorable mentions: Jennifer L. Armentrout, Penelope Douglas, L.J Shen, Elle Kennedy and Kennedy Fox.

QUESTION: any recommendations/tips to give to a new reader?

I’ve always given this advice to people who want to get into reading: find what you like and start with that. If you like romance, I’ve got a list for you to choose from. Mystery? Another list. Sci-fi? I GOT YOU. Fantasy? Yes! Sports fiction? It might take me a second but I’ll find you a book. Nonfiction? I’m zero help in that category, honestly. The point of the matter is that you’re never going to enjoy a book if you aren’t interested in the underlying topics.

QUESTION: do you ever find yourself comparing your life to fictional life?

Yes. All the time. I daydream about being apart of the Inner Circle and living in Terrasen with Aelin and Rowan. I think about what it would be like to have real powers and a mate. It drives my boyfriend crazy—but he loves me anyway.

QUESTION: what are your most anticipated books of 2021?

Here’s a list:

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

The Crown of Gilded Bones by Jennifer L. Armentrout

Gods and Monsters by Shelby Mahurin

Crescent City 2 (Untitled) by Sarah J. Maas

A Vow So Bold and Deadly by Brigid Kemmerer (I just ordered this one & it arrives tomorrow)

Blessed Monsters by Emily A. Duncan

QUESTION: why did you start a Tumblr?

Honestly, I used to love tumblr when I was in grade school (way too young to be on here then but what else is new). I like having an extra space to get my questions and comments out without having to compress it into a 60 second video for TikTok to see. Tumblr is a good place to blog & post things like this.

QUESTION: what’s your favorite song right now?

I’ve listened to Carry You by Novo Amor every day for the past two months and I cry each time.

QUESTION: why write Harry Styles fan fiction?

Simple: I love Harry Styles. I’ve been a fan of him and One Direction since they were on X FACTOR. Read that again. X. Factor. I used to watch their performances on YouTube before WMYB even came out. Of course, I love all of the 1D boys but I was always a Harry gal. And I look up to him in a way—I’ve read things about people wishing they knew him personally and honestly? I would never want to meet him. I like the version of him I’ve cooked up in my brain over the past 10 years. I like the symbiotic relationship I have with his music. Fine Line is a ✨masterpiece✨. HS1 is a ✨work of art✨.

now, some topics I’ve been asked way too many times and want to finally get to:

QUESTION: political views?

the saying “anyone but trump” has been in my brain for the past four years. No, I’m not a republican. No, I’m not a democrat. I like to think of myself as a progressive (ahem, liberal) Did I vote for a democratic candidate? Yes, and I’d do it again and again until the US isn’t one of the worst countries—I’m sorry, businesses— to be apart of. I wanted Bernie but got Biden, and I’m alright with that. And my girl Kamala🥳

QUESTION: how did you feel about the BLM protests?

I went to multiple BLM protests and donated a lot of funds to BLM & other organizations. It’s 2021, people... stop being fucking RACIST. And don’t be afraid to call racist people out! Black Lives Matter, even if no one is posting about it anymore.

QUESTION: thoughts on abortion?

your body your choice, queen! not my uterus, not my problem.

QUESTION: there was a comment on an old video of yours talking about r*pe, why did you delete the comment?

I made a video when I first started my account on TikTok about reading in public and feeling “turned on” by it. Go watch it if you don’t know what I’m talking about. BUT, some ignorant male decided to comment and say “this is how girls get r*ped”. Whew. So. I deleted the comment because ....

I am a victim of sexual assault. Along with a lot of other women. 1 in 5 women have been victims of sexual assault. Talking about being r*ped isn’t funny.

No one else needed to see his comment. I reported it immediately and his account was shut down.

I never got justice for what happened to me, and the fact that some random male—who had never even met me or seen me before my video showed up on his FYP—had the nerve to comment that? Unacceptable.

this question isn’t as controversial but

QUESTION: what’s the best way to get out of a toxic relationship?

okay, let me just start off by saying that the people around you who love and support you are going to be your backbone. Leaving a toxic situation is hard, and every situation is different, but my best piece of advice to offer you is don’t be afraid to ask for help. Your loved ones are going to be there for you when you need them, even if you don’t believe they will. If you explain what’s happening, someone you know and love will drop whatever it is their doing to make sure you get out safely. good luck my babes.

now, back to our regularly scheduled program:

QUESTION: any tips on making tiktoks?

Literally none. I post what I think is funny and relatable and if anyone agrees, I’m satisfied. Even if it’s one view, it’s good enough for me. So I guess my one tip is to not base your life off of an app and followers.

QUESTION: favorite Harry Styles fanfic?

DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE. Duplicity is up there, along with Stall 1&2, and Kiwi. After? Absolutely not.

QUESTION: favorite WEBTOON?

y’all already KNOW. LORE OLYMPUS BY USEDBANDAID. Rachel is a genius and I have reread the series a million times. Hades is my soulmate and Apollo can rot in the fiery pits of the Underworld. also, if we’re talking about other webcomics, reading Walk on Water on mangadex...🤫

QUESTION: favorite movie?

Howls Moving Castle. I will be getting my “a heart is a heavy burden” tattoo very very soon.

QUESTION: I read your Elain theory on tumblr, can you explain a little more?

I thought I was pretty straightforward but I’ll say it again: she is always the “good” one and it’s too suspicious. SJM has already given one Archeron sister a happy ending, Nesta’s is obviously inevitable, but Elain? She has too many options for a happy ending. Lucien, who is her “mate”. Azriel, who is intrigued by her slightly. Her human guy—I don’t remember his name—who is disgusted that she’s not human anymore. Or, alone, planting flowers all day. BUT! My point is that she’s not truly happy. She was forced into the Cauldron just like Nesta. She was ripped away from the life she loved so dearly and didn’t want to give up. The man she was going to marry now hates her guts because she’s a High Fae. She has the perfect set up for a villain plot line and I’m all here for it.

well, that’s all I feel like doing tonight. hope you enjoyed my little q&a! be kind, and talk to you later! byeeee!

[yibuo]

UMMM I would love to know what exactly happened with xnine too if you know??

i didn’t know how to answer this without hating on long danni but... that’s not possible when you’re talking about xnine

CORRECT ME IF I’M WRONG IN ANY WAY @ DIMPLES AND CFANS

tldr ceo addicted to producing survival shows realizes boy group is incapable of feeding her fat rabbit because of her OWN mismanagement and throws them away (literally? probably not, maybe, idk)

HOLY SHIT THIS BECAME RLY LONG IM BEGGING KEEP READING TO WORK LO LOL LOL

long danni= wjjw company ceo

wjjw=company that xnine, xz, r1se, etc are under

huo mala: fat company rabbit that WILL give u nightmares goodness gracious thinking about him sends chills down my spine

alright so long danni (ldn i will refer to her) & ee media along w/ tencent and sm made the survival show x-fire... the premise of xfire was that 16 contestants split into two different teams (white and red) and then at the end it would boil down to each team having 4 members and the winning team would debut as a group called xfire...but wait...the group’s name is xnine? so out of red team (peng chuyue, baishu, xiao zhan, xia zhiguang) and white team(wu jiacheng, gu jiacheng, zhao lei, and guo zifan) white team won...and they unofficially debuted as xfire..went abroad to train yadda yadda yadda and then a few months later, TELL ME WHY LONG DANNI DECIDES TO RELEASE POLLS TO LET FANS VOTE IN 5 MEMBERS INTO XFIRE TO CREATE XNINE! ldn PLEASE if u wanted to rig the show you should’ve decided in the beginning what was the point of making the teams and the fans fight against each other...

so yeah xz and crew weren’t actually supposed to debut according to show rules...i mean i’m glad they debuted obviously bc x9 is x9 but ee media and frickin ldn couldve handled this better...like every member except chen molerat is amazing and great but....WHY DIDNT MaNAGEMENT NOT BLATANTLY RIG THEM INTO THE GROUP

but also thank u ldn for also letting us get to know the 4 guys who were added n not chen molerat <3 but like DO UR JOB PROPERLY

anyway the polls were RIGGED obviously thanks ldn what did u expect out of making POLLS, and xiao zhan, peng chuyue, xia zhiguang, yan xujia, and chen z*** were added to the group to create xnine...talk about rigged when chen z*** the molerat lookin turdface misogynist was added... anyway at the time he wasnt known to be problematic but ya the whole rigging thing caused a whole rift esp when x9 debuted bc there were fanwars and death threats initially but xfire did well because it was one of the (if not only) survival shows at that time and x9 debuted w/ a good response etc

then they got moved to wjjw (still owned by ldn thanks ldn) and wjjw is known for hoarding artists and not promoting them (THEY HAVE LIKE 45 ARTISTS BUT WERE FORMED 3 YEARS AGO MAKE IT MAKE SENSE) and not being promoted properly was EXACTLY what happened to xnine. as idols what they needed was music promotions, variety shows, etc stuff to get them as people out there but this genius ldn decided to promote them through stupid zodiac dramas like super star academy (to promote xfire finalists) and oh my emperor (which was an xnine drama). now i haven’t watched OME, but SSA gave me enough brain rot and gunk for me to not watch OME. (the only person who could act was baishu), and the story was SO BAD. nevermind the acting, because the boys weren’t initially slated to be actors, but the story was horrible, girl without superpowers suddenly becomes white cult goddess at the end??? WHAT???????? why didn’t ldn just promote them normally !!!!!! are they an actor group or an idol group???? I LOVE XNINE, THEY ARE TALENTED ARTISTS !!!! and eventually some went into acting (xz, guo zifan, gu jiacheng) BUT WAS THAT THE TIME DLFNJNF and then they just kept getting sent into random dramas and movies as random side characters instead of being able to make music and promote????? i’m sorry i’ve been stuck on using dramas to promote x9 for a while because that’s such a SILLY IDEA *vigorously shakes head* 

ldn knows how to do survival shows but she doesn’t know how to promote her artists thanks ldn. xnine has so much talented, we know xiao zhan is a great singer, but other main vocalists like wu jiacheng, zhao lei, and peng chuyue are amazing as welll, here’s me plugging this video of zl and pcy performing their self-written song on produce camp because it’s the most beautiful thing ever

-oh yeah somewhere in here insert chen molerat getting outed as a pedo misogynist cheater by his gf who still has the audacity to have xnine in his weibo name because xnine starting to get popular gtfo rat lookin ass i WILL barf, when we say ot8 xnine we mean xnine w/o chen toadratass but sometimes ppl think it’s xnine minus xz which is untrue-

they also have talented rappers (gu jiacheng yan xujia) and dancers (xia zhiguang guo zifan) like xia zhiguang can end me with his spinning flying kick thing and i WILL let him 

so YEAH !! TALENT that went to waste because wjjw gave them weird random hiatuses and kept pushing them as actors??? seriously what is with this actor stuff...so that’s why they debuted in 2016 and have very little discography to their name because wjjw just gave up...trying to promote them GOD thank u so much ldn for ur incomptency <3333 xnine had members in diff stages of life (ranging from xz who was born in 91, to yan xujia born in 2001, they were all close tho soo cute) and wjjw really was like nope we’re not gonna try to promote yall’s dreams of becoming singers on the stage because they couldn’t add 34783473 pounds to fat huo mala’s weight

so ya a lot of people are like omg wjjw hates xiao zhan!!! ya no they hate all of xnine but now xz is bringing enough money to make huo mala even fatter so good for huo mala i guess /s

also rumors and any bad media? lol wjjw doesn’t care they do a shit job at handling bad things too WHAT A WELLROUNDED COMPANY

OH ALSO TALK ABOUT HOW THYE HAD 3 DAYS TO PREPARE FOR A CONCERT???????????? WHAT????????? wjjw u mfs

anyway to summarize my rants above wjjw did  a SHIT job of promoting xnine as idols when the boys worked so hard and wjjw kept tryna push them to acting bye (some of them can’t act and literally don’t WANT TO ACT HHHSFLNF), wjjw is also horrible at letting all of the xnine members shine when as i mentioned before, they’re ALL TALENTED!!!! and then they just gave up on xnine somewhere in 2017-2018... ok anyway so is xnine disbanded? no although some may say their last concert in dec 2018 was their last concert ever they’re not disbanded

xiao zhan , gu jiacheng, and guo zifan went into acting

wu jiachang is focusing on his music etc (he was actually the first member of xnine i came across when i watched the collaboration/cyzj in 2018...yes carats this is That wu jiacheng!!!) MAN CAN SING

peng chuyue, zhao lei, xia zhiguang, yan xujia all went on produce camp 2019 (aNOTHER SURVIVAL SHOW BC THEY WANTED TO BE ON THE MF STAGE BC THATS WHY THEYRE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE WJJW) along w/ fellow labelmates zhou zhennan and zhai xiao wen ... and everyone but peng chuyue made it to the final 11 spots and got to debut in the group r1se...UNFORTUNATELY ALSO UNDER WJJW HELP SEND HELP

if they’re in r1se does that mean they quit xnine? no! they’re in both that’s just how survival shows work it’s kind of weird

peng chuyue recently released a song and it’s really good and you can’t not tell me that it’s gay here it is

anyway xnine hasn’t disbanded!! the X玖少年团 (xnine) in the non-r1se members’ weibo names say that loud n clear!!! and when the r1se members from xnine won produce camp 2019, they all made xnine signs SO XNINE IS ALIVE and they do keep in contact!!

why haven’t we seen blatant public interactions btwen xiao zhan and the xnine members? because some frickin annoying xz solo stans/xfx claim that the other members use xz for popularity (HELLO??????? IN WHAT WORLD DOES THAT MAKE SENSE HALF OF THEM R LITERALLY HIS KIDS BUT OK) 

anyway in conclusion wjjw doesn’t know how to promote any of their artists, thus screwing over xnine members and making them go on a group hiatus where they focus on acting/singing/r1se for r1se members but they are very much xnine as of now !!!

here’s some REALLY GOOD RESOURCES to follow xnine bc as an ifan it’s mf hard

-xnine slideshow

-xnine faq

-xnine eng sub channel by yuer

-all of that content i listed above was made/subbed by one person and she is the queen of uhh...xnine international fandom outreach (????) how do i word it but she’s been subbing and spreading xnine long before xiao zhan’s popularity skyrocketed so go follow her for updates and memes here

-xnine intl fanbase twt and tumblr

-and here’s this twt account with dumb pics of xnine because why not

also i’m pretty sure there’s a wip video explaining x9′s history being created (by yuer because queen) so when that’s posted i’ll rb this and post it here

also here’s this video dragging wjjw

[staboteur]

//was watching reviews of s.he ra and i suddenly want to retcon a part of rene’s backstory,,, not in a super major way but i want to explain some things in more nuanced detail if you know what i mean? And also explain more about his behaviors and problems

//mostly i’m talking about his past relationships (specifically with will, wow that’s a name that hasn’t appeared here in a... year or so). When I first wrote Will, he was a grade A asshole bc he was rene’s foil. He was charming and sweet on the outside, but actually a toxic person on the inside, the opposite of rene’s grouch with a heart of gold thing. But i feel like i wasn’t writing a very informed or careful narrative with Will at first, because as I developed his character by writing him with a friend, he eventually turned into a kind, caring person by the time he entered his 50s, which is basically “modern day” for their canon timeline, so like the 1960s-70s.

//something i want to try and write is a story about how two people can be really toxic for each other, and how there isn’t really a clear victim in a lot of toxic relationships. It’s always really easy to blame someone else for your problems, to shift responsibility away from yourself and force the other person to take responsibility for your problems--but it’s also very easy to fall into the trap of taking responsibility for the other person’s actions when you really should be holding them accountable. Specifically i wanted to talk about the issue of a failure in communication, where not only is one person unwilling to communicate, but the other person is unwilling to listen because by the time person A finally communicates something, person B is so used to building their own narrative in their head of what person A “actually” means that they completely ignore what person A said and continue as if they said nothing. Which obviously is a problem because now person A will never communicate their feelings with person B, bc person A doesn’t feel like they’re being listened to.

//this is definitely a personal experience and im sorry for inserting personal experiences into this but it was a major defining incident in my life and i am still coming to terms with the fact that while i’m not entirely to blame for the situation there is still responsibility on my shoulders for the problem and that maybe even though we’ve both probably changed for the better by now, going back to being friends is not what’s going to create closure for us (or at least, me specifically, bc i still have no idea how to heal myself after the incident hence why it’s been like 6 years and i still haven’t sorted through every single layer of this goddamn onion of a psychological problem)

//the more i think about it i feel like rene would be person A and will would be person B (i was undecided at first). It seems very in character for rene to be unwilling to share information about his feelings, and also in character for will to try to guess what’s going on in rene’s head (with some degree of success, which only adds to his fantasy narrative). He basically has to constantly read between the lines of everything rene says and does, and (like people do) rene changes, but will doesn’t learn to read the new narrative and he accidentally pushes a lot of boundaries that rene sets, and i want to change their final scenes together to be more... careful than just will left rene and that single incident is what scarred him. A lot of past trauma narratives center around a single inciting incident, but for many people (myself included) it’s a death by a thousand (emotional/mental) cuts. It’s little things people tell you or do to you that stack up and add up over time. Like friends cutting you off, people turning you down, etc etc, and if you have no healthy way of relieving that stress and healing from the trauma (which neither rene nor will would have or understand at the time), it can add up and fester inside of you until everything feels like rot and nothing is good anymore.

//anyways that’s a longer ramble than usual but i think that’s definitely an idea i want to work on. Instead of will just... leaving rene on accident and it being a misunderstanding, i want to make it deeper. Maybe rene was complaining about being tired the previous night, and will thought he’d let rene sleep in, not understanding that rene requires a strict schedule in order to maintain good mental (and physical) health. And after the incident, rene blames will for not waking him up, and will blames rene for not telling him he still wanted to wake up at the same time, and it’s a boiling point of months of miscommunications and small errors and problems, definitely culminates in a “you never listen to me!” “but you never tell me anything!” “i tried to tell you things but you don’t listen so why bother?” argument which i think would be a much better story than just... “ope he left me at the safe house that was raided and i was almost caught oops i feel betrayed”.

//15 year old me coming up with that narrative thought they were so galaxy brain lmao but now here i am.... universe brain..... 3000 iq....... at 1 am

//and also this would definitely be another part of his backstory affecting him--he was essentially trained to be a child soldier (spy soldier whatever), which means he has a strongly independent sense of self but also a complete inability to depend on or trust others, simply because he was told his whole life that nobody was trustworthy, his closest companions were ones who deliberately tried to sabotage him every single day and was encouraged to do so, and he was encouraged to sabotage his companions in increasingly sneaky and conniving ways, and even his mentors and teachers weren’t very supportive outside of answering basic questions. After that, he was thrown straight into the tail end of a horrifying war that ravaged his country, and then he was expected to... somehow acclimate to peacetime as a civilian after he faked his own death, as a man who had no name, no home, and no family--wow i made his backstory really sad and edgy i apologize oops--and then he meets will, who is kind to him and helps him, and he latches on because at first, will’s really good at reading his moods and validates some of his (possibly less savory) habits such as smoking, reckless endangerment of others, stealing, etc etc. Which like,,, it’s a lot of Will enabling Rene at first because he thought it made Rene happy, and then it turned into Rene feeling more comfortable around Will, and while their relationship obviously wasn’t 100% healthy or perfect, they were happy together for awhile and i think they both probably started to heal a little bit from their past traumas until they reached a hurdle in the healing process (bc healing is nonlinear) and will pushed a boundary once and rene said “stop i dont like that” but will was so used to rene playing coy and having extremely nebulous boundaries that he didn’t think it meant anything and continued anyway and that was the first strain on their relationship. And it basically starts the hypothetical downward spiral i described above

//also i may retcon will so he isn’t.... weirdly british anymore, he’s just a new englander who got really mixed up in a lot of wrong and bad things and then he ended up in france during the war as a soldier (because how else was he gonna get there in time to meet rene right) and then he defects from the army (because fuck militarism and also will may look like captain america but boy is actually somewhat faint of heart and breaks easily under peer pressure). 

//and of course there’s a cut to present day (1968-70ish) where they meet again. They’re both very different now--rene’s more refined and put together, less impulsive, while Will is more understanding of boundaries and is more truly compassionate--and they talk about it, yknow like mature adults, and they get closure by knowing the other person has changed, but they aren’t going to get back together or be friends again simply because of all the bad blood between them and also they probably wouldn’t get along too well now, especially since seeing each other probably makes them feel uncomfortable and triggers bad memories for them, and puts them in a state of mind similar to how they felt like 20 years ago.

[tattoo-wannabe]

Mentally Ill Parents

So my parents are on all of my social media accounts except Tumblr so if you know me in real life or even just on here please feel free to give me advice on this.

So both of my parents are very mentally ill and recently I've had to move back in with them, so it's been smack in my face again. My mother and father have depression and both had substance abuse problems their whole lives. My house is disgusting. My mom has a dog she's obsessed with that pisses and shits everywhere and she refuses to try to train him. My dad hates this dog, and therefore has decided that he isn't responsible for anything it does.

At this point, both of them blame the other for how the house is a mess. I can see both of their perspectives but it's so frustrating. These are two adults above the age of 55 that don't do any kind of house keeping, because they are either too lazy or decide that the other one is worse than them at cleaning up and therefore they aren't responsible for their messes. The trash overflows, expired food crams the fridge and pantry, spills and rotting food waste away on counter tops, dog shit and piss sits on the floor for hours not getting cleaned up, the bathrooms are filthy, cabinets and drawers are in disarray, junk and mail sit on every surface because there is no place to store them, and to top it all off BOTH of their respective rooms are messy and dirty (they sleep in separate rooms because they basically can't stand each other).

For some context, my mother used to be a nurse but was fired about 4 years ago for stealing drugs. She now drives for Lyft. My father is a Public Defender. They pretty much cannot afford a divorce even though that's probably what would be best for both of them. They've taken out several additional mortgages on the house to make ends meet, and all of the money saved for both of their retirements is gone.

They so clearly cannot even discuss their problems because they're both so emotionally distant, and they clearly resent each other for what their lives have become. My dad said something really telling to me the other day. I asked him why he just let all of this expired food sit in the fridge, and he said "I mow the lawn, and your mother does the rest," as if by mowing the lawn, he justifies not doing anything else around the house. If the problem was just one of them, then it would seem logical to think that one of their personal spaces that is not occupied by the other (they both have their own rooms and bathrooms and my dad has his own office) would be at least somewhat tidy. But no, they both live like pigs.

My basic point here is that my father clearly has come to the conclusion that because my mom lost her job and got the dog, that everything that is wrong in their lives is her fault, and therefore he is no longer responsible for the house and its upkeep. My mother feels abandoned by my father, and her depression keeps her locked up in her room, and she resents his emotional distance and so does not want to contribute to the house. They are both acting out of pure spite for each other and laziness and I don't know what to do anymore.

I say all this because I just spent 30 minutes cleaning the kitchen at midnight, because I had no room to even make myself something to eat after a long night at work. My problem here is that I don't know how to handle this. I feel like if I meddle in their marriage, I will only make things worse. At the same time, I am tired of cleaning the house and not even being thanked for my efforts. Especially when it just gets messy again the next day. I love them both dearly, but their behavior is driving my brother and I crazy, and I don't know what is best for them. It drove both of us to move out before we were ready, and I'm back because I have no where else to go.

Mentally ill parents are something people don't really mention a lot. They're supposed to be the people you count on the most, but sometimes they just aren't. Im sorry for going on such a long rant, and I hope that maybe someone out there can relate to this and if you have any advice for me on this situation or if you want more details please message me. I feel like I'm almost desperate at this point. Thanks.

[thyrideneverends]

(2017)

Escritos que encontre del año 2017 . Y conversaciones conmigo desde el año 2020 ([]).

____________________________ AAAHGH IM SO FUCKING SAD. I cant help but feel that im rotting. I dont want pity; people helping; people empathizing. FUCK YOU. I can do better than you. I DO. In fact. I havent been blinded, and hate everything around me as an excuse for giving my life away for what it was supposed to be. [this could be missunderstod since i was clearly angry 4 something i dont recall, I was refering to people in general, how they put themselves above the others, how they always wanna get "there" first, how they talk trash about their relationships, the anger, the hate that breeds out of them when they are wronged(even if there`s no purpose or whatsoever to cause them, specifically, any troubles), the screaming, the violence, that kind of hate..]

I dont want to just 'be happy' because I have to; so I reject happiness. But I want to feel it like something real and not made up.. does that makes sense? Thats a paradox i cant escape lately. [thats deep man, fortunately we figured that out. Have we figured that out? Happiness now is closed for manteinance ^-^ ]

I cant find pleasure in anything.. I destroyed everything..[you had to start somewhere, right?] I cant find meaning in anything.

I just need someone, i just need not to be alone. But I am; Even surrounded by everyone. I know I am. I know you are too.. I hope you are strong enough to endure it.

[hablabas de otro tipo de soledad, lo se, pero vos todavia no lo sabias, o si?]

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Sometimes I feel like I forgot an important part of being alive. I remember a different version of myself from a few years back. I feel like I'm just existing; nothing pushes my happy button. And when I'm not strong enough to think that it's fine; that I don't need that.. I will just panic questioning myself why, the reason for me not belonging. I know it's fine; I know I can just spend the rest of my..50years left? just doing this; living this eternal circling hell. You might say it's a choice.. That I don't put that much effort into it. That I'm just playing this part. Complaining my ass off. And to that.. I can only say I'm sorry.. I'm doing the best I can. [I know you were.. truly; and u did a great job never letting me down] _________________________________________

Why are we even here right.. What powers you? You wake up, work or study, ingest food, sleep. Repeat. To finish your career and become something.. To earn enough money to become someone.. Be better in what you're doing or you'll be out. You'll be useless. You'll be garbage. We[the system] won't need you.. And then we have to be happy about it.. We have to function collectively happy and there's no room for the outcasts.. And IM to blame for it.. I could be happy like all of them.. But I'm just sitting my ass here thinking what else I can sabotage, in order to understand why it's unnecessary and wish to be also capable of that... Just capable maybe of.. not be weird; not be me.. And sometimes thats all that matters. That Im me.. And I love not being a part of them. I just can never get a hold of that moment and make it last.. I will feel alone just a moment after. [Im so glad we worked our loneliness, I mean, we have such fine moments in silence..]

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Aah... I was just given advice by a hot girl on tinder about how should I type, express and resume myself so the person on the other side of the screen won't stop replying thinking I'm an idiot.. She basically said :- "hey, you're an idiot but maybe a cute one. Here's human help. Just stop being you and people will like you" Y'know what? that's bullshit... It makes me so anxious that it happens all the time. There's always someone judgin. Not only online; real life is the worst. I just don't fit in here I guess. I'll keep talking with the tinder girl, maybe and get emptynessly laid, why not? But I think I hate this.. I hate that everything craves for a definition and people just won't LOOK; Im hidden among them... God how I wish to know who's there ravaging their brains with questions while walking in that empty crowd. I wish I could find you and ask just what you were thinking there. At that unique moment. You are not alone... But if you feel like I do; I wonder if you also wonder. I wonder if we're just very far away from each other.. I wonder if it`s true that there can only be one of us by this cosmic rule that goes: only one 'you/me' for every thousand people. Or.. maybe it's just me. Too old to be an idiot... Too idiot to fully be himself around smart well adjusted people. I guess it's a matter of perspective. isn't it pretty much all? Have a good night stranger.. [Not so stranger.. my dude.. U didn't get laid btw, you couldn't pull through with that. And then you promised you wouldn't lie about who you are.. You wouldn't ever play another role other than the one you are. Well, it was more like a statement than a promise, to yourself. I was there.. Best decision you ever made. You mutated loneliness into a condition, a simple symptom of your choice of living; instead of a disease on itself.. Very clever.]

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You don't have to read but if you wanna unload please write it down. Everything u hate.. or love; This I wrote on my personal account but it makes me anxious to open myself to judgy people, so I erased it.. We live to judge because we love fixing things that didn't go right with us. Never understanding each perspective is unique. Well Im gonna paste it here because I don't want to lose it.. I don't want something I really meant to be just a deleted thing..(even if it is)

Have u ever felt like you're unique or different?   But then just analyzing, we all just walk towards and objective. We don't do things just because. You don't get up every day to just go to work.. to just have breakfast or go shopping, idk; people set goals. We follow patterns. We repeat the same exact thing to strangers of the streets. The same exact things other strangers reply to us.. We are the same NPCs to others. And then realizing this I just wanna scream PLEASE GET ME OUT OF THIS. Please look at me! I don't want this. I don't want to be aware of this.. I don't want to feel I'm just to you what you guess I am. What's the point of everything? How do I get to know who I am if I'm always this self-centered stupid attempt of somebody? Nobody wants that. Sometimes I am glad to be "awake". To be different from the other people in their bubbles... But most of the time I'd give EVERYTHING to be exactly like that. Because I feel lonely. Because I have so many friends, but we can't communicate. Because I've lost the ideal of love because at a certain point I was scared of being a problem and it hurts so fucking much. I don't think I am special.. or more intelligent or cultural, I just feel I have a different degree of "profoundness" than most other people. It's not something I talk about or show, most of the time i pretend to fit in, but I don't. I can fool myself for periods, I've fooled myself for so many years now, but in the end it always comes back, I can't hide it forever. it hurts so much. I don't know if it's a blessing or a curse and I feel like a fucking show-off that just wants attention..

[I felt that.. dude. You write beautifully..]

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Hi person reading this. Be nice, life is full of shitty people. Make a tiny difference; someday we're all gonna die so its cool. Dont hold grudges ^^ . [^^]

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We are all just internet jesters shitposting to fill the void Even if you're just taking selfies and being beautiful while loving life, smiling to nothing and eating healthy shit while showing off the new place you just visited to a bunch of strangers that doesn't give a fuck about you .. (actually those are the worsts) yeah.. (Don't get me wrong I'm not saying it's bad. I do that too ! we like showing ourselves to others..) Screaming... I exist. Notice me sempai. We just are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

________________________________________________ *draw of myself* [couldnt find it anywhere, where did u put it D: . i remember the sad expression] I know It has a lot of imperfections but so do I. I guess this is how I see myself.. Maybe I just wanted it to be like that. To express something to myself. I still feel like a little kid sometimes even tho I'm 25; "I just can't play with the other kids because I feel different and they make me feel different." Now I can't play with the adults, they're too adults. They make me feel too adult; i need to act up every move to become like them. And then alone, I can be at peace being who I wanna be; But it gets lonely from time to time; Not being able to understand who are you really; where are you really above the necessity of impersonating this other dude to get laid, get the job, get the money. And for what?.. Just to keep doing it because there is really no other choice.. How sad. But anyway. Ever tried to draw yourself? To see what's the image of you that you hold in your head.. if u truly do it; it doesn't matter if you know or not how to proyect yourself.. Every trace you make on that paper is a creation this world has never seen.. your chance to make a difference; it doesn't have to be trendy or impact in mankind. I suppose that's what I call art. And that's why art is everywhere.. Everything that can never be repeated.. Anything that comes from you; or life itself. A random amount of dirt.. Sunlight getting through the leaves of a tree.. Pieces of a broken cup and the stain of coffee in the carpet.. I'm not an artist myself tho; never considered myself even close to one.. I haven't drawn in years.. This is my first one in a long time; I just felt like it.

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[a-nuhea]

i just keep apologizing

when u do something a tiny bit productive and you feel a lil bit better about yourself

anyway yeah. im sorry i dont post much. i don’t know what else to tell you guys. 

although that doesn’t mean i’ve been rotting away in my room for months. actually lowkey kind of. it’s a long story and i kinda wanna be more active on here so? i guess i’ll explain everything??

///under a read more

so if any of yall knew me last year i’ve been desperately trying to move out of my parents house - my mom finally moved out but i had too many things goin on in town to just leave and start anew somewhere else. i don’t regret not pushing further to move in with her. she doesn’t support me (as a trans person) and has canceled on me 1-too-many times when i’ve expressed i’m serious about my transition.

i live with my dad currently and he’s an ASSHOLE. not just that, he’s a fucking predator. he started renting out rooms to just women during the last six months, and three of them had to move out because of his creepiness/being extremely inappropriate to them and sexually assaulted a recent one. there’s been multiple reports against him (and me and the girls are also taking action to get his ass in jail - WHICH HE SHOULD’VE BEEN THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE (and a lot longer than last time).

but why.... am i still living here perhaps???? lol. i don’t own a car. i live 15 minutes out of town. buses do not come anywhere near my house. i use my dad’s car - that we share - but i’m restricted. i’ve had a lot of trouble finding work and i do not have anything in my bank account. i’m poor and broke and legitimately being held hostage in my own house. Thankfully!!! i got hired recently and me and an ex roomie are trying out damndest to get me the fuck out. unfortunately the goddamn cops keep putting us off and it’s making things really difficult, but me and my current roommate are looking at safe housing. 

so... basically those are the reasons why i’ve been physically incapable of producing art or any sort of content. all i’ve been doing is planning on getting my poor excuse of a father thrown in prison (where that fucker belongs) and in my down town being an activist for LGBTQ+ ppl in my community and looking into learning Kurdish so I can help educate kids in the Kurdistan region (so i haven’t been THAT unproductive!!!! lmao)

so for like... the rest of this year.... is just gonna be work then (hopefully) ill be in syria. lmao. incredible

if yall want to talk to me dm me here or Twitter (i’ll moooossstttt likely get back to you on twitter since im waaayy more active there) or if ya wanna get my attention even more add me on snapchat lmao

so. thanks yall