#my spines are small because they where hard yo draw: -3

[yourclownpal]

lobopodian fur(?)sonas!!!!

the hallucigenia is me and the tardigrade is @brocolibun !!<3

RB PLZ/NF

extra doodles under the cut

song mentioned on the right is "flowers on the wall" by the Statler brothers

(i found it from the muppets )

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter eighteen

Helloooo I almost posted this yesterday as a thank you gift and then I totally got caught up in schoolwork. Gotta love finals season am I right

Anywho, thank y’all so much for 1.7k followers <3 Here’s a long ass chapter that’s a good ol’ mix of fluff and angst xx.

Chapter Warnings: waking-up-together kinda fluff, no sexytimes but there are some ~suggestive~ comments of course, ANGST at the end (i’m so sorry), the end of this case is very near on the horizon

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Aaron wakes you when his first alarm goes off at 5a.m. It’s way too fucking early in your opinion, but you know he wants you to have time to go back to Emily and JJ’s room to get ready for the day.

Still, being woken by a kiss on your forehead is something you can see yourself getting used to. Not to mention using his chest as a pillow all night.

You tilt your head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss, not caring that the both of you probably have disgusting morning breath right now.

He pulls away first, nudging your nose with his before he rests his forehead on yours, looking deep into your eyes. “Good morning, sweet girl.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your lips. “Good morning.” You close your eyes in your flustered state, burying your face down into his chest. “I don’t want to leave.”

“I want you to stay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But we’ve got a job to do.”

“I know,” you sigh, opening your eyes to bring yourself back to reality. Then, you hook your arms around his neck, starting to grin. “Same thing tonight?”

He smirks, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Depends on how much of a good girl you are today.”

“Ooh, a challenge,” you tease. “I dunno…I’m feeling pretty bratty this morning.”

You feel his arm tighten around your shoulders, drawing you closer to him in warning.

“I’m just teasing,” you murmur, propping your chin on his chest, giving him your best eyes.

But he isn’t fazed. “I know. I’m keeping track.”

So, naturally, you pout. “Fine.”

“Strike two.”

“I have a feeling this isn’t like baseball. Three strikes and I’m out?”

“Are you trying to find out?”

“Mm, maybe?” You grin, but, as always, the FBI Agent part of your brain comes back to life. “If we didn’t have to be downstairs soon, I’d say yes. But I probably should go get dressed.”

“Understood,” Aaron replies, a small grin on his lips too. “I suppose even as your boss, I can’t keep you here.”

“As my boss, we’re technically not even supposed to be in the same bed together,” you remind him with a snort, but seriousness comes over him. “What?”

“We still need to talk,” he says quietly. “Really talk about this, but right now I just want you to know...I don’t regret this. I want this. No matter the consequences.”

“Me too,” you whisper, fingernails gently scratching the base of his skull, your weak attempt at comfort. “Do you think there’ll be consequences?”

He sighs, and you rise and fall with his chest. “I don’t know.” He pauses. “If Strauss finds out somehow, maybe. I don’t know if keeping it from her until she inevitably finds out is better than telling her ourselves, but…”

“We’ll figure it out,” you assure him with a small smile. “But you wanna do this?”

Instead of answering you verbally, he pulls you closer for a soothing kiss, coaxing all your worries away.

“I want to do this,” he says, knowing you need to hear the words from his voice.

“Okay,” you murmur, taking a deep breath. “What do we do about the team?”

His eyebrows furrow. “What about them?”

You give him a tired look. “Come on. They know.”

“What?” He blurts, sitting up a little, taking you with him. “Rossi knows.”

“And Emily and JJ and Garcia,” you chuckle. “I didn’t even tell them. Emily saw us at dinner one night. JJ figured it out from the phone call a few days ago. Garcia just...knows.”

“What about Morgan and Reid?”

“Are you kidding me? Morgan knows. Have you seen how he irritates the shit out of me every day?”

“Exactly,” Aaron says. “He does it every day.”

“Have you noticed how he’s been doing it especially when you’re around?” You raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you’re our supervisor! I thought you were a better profiler than that!”

“We have a rule not to profile each other,” he says sternly, obviously a little butthurt that he didn’t see that everyone else knew.

“A rule that none of us stick to, by the way,” you laugh. “We just don’t voice it. But we do. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think you’d figured that out yet,” he admits.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It wasn’t hard. I caught myself profiling everyone. I figured I couldn’t be the only one who does it by accident.”

Aaron only smiles. He’s amazed by you every single day. Sometimes he wonders if you even know how intelligent you are. If you even know the full scope of your mind. Maybe you don’t, maybe no one does.

“But anyway,” you swerve back on track. “I feel like it should be unspoken, but just...no PDA, you know? It’s fine that they know because honestly I think they knew before we knew, but let’s not make it a big deal.”

“Agreed,” he nods. “We still need to be professional.”

“Exactly,” you breathe, glad to be on the same page.

His second alarm goes off, the one for 5:30, and you groan, dropping your forehead to his chest.

“Why does it have to be so early?” You mutter, your lips brushing against his skin as you speak. It sends a hot wave through him, one that causes him to promptly shift your body off of him. “What are you doing?”

“You need to go get dressed,” he says. “And if you stay here wrapped around me any longer, I won’t be able to let you leave.”

You grin. “Point taken.”

You roll off the mattress, fully aware that he’s looking at your ass, and at your entire body, marveling at the way you look in his shirt.

“Oh,” you say, doing a dramatic turn, watching his eyes very quickly move back to your face. “Do you have any boxers? I probably shouldn’t walk down the hall in just a shirt.”

He’s scrambling for a pair of his boxer briefs, the thought of anyone else seeing you just like this making his blood boil frighteningly fast.

“Thanks,” you smirk when he hands them to you. And you put them on in front of him, partly for a show and partly because the look he was giving you demanded it. “I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He nods. “Try not to spend too much time gossiping.”

“Oh, please,” you shake your head. “They’re getting all the details.”

You’re out the door before he can even catch you, and you just know you’re going to get it later.

+++

Emily and JJ are on you as soon as you open the door, both of them dressed and ready, arms folded over their chests like Moms whose daughter stayed out too late last night.

In a way, that’s completely accurate.

“And where have you been?” JJ asks, fully entering her Mom persona.

“Uhm, a friend’s house?” You play along, trying to inch your way to the bathroom.

But Emily knows your move, and stands in front of the bathroom door. “Is this friend named Aaron?”

“...maybe.”

And the façade falls, because they both cheer, pulling you into a hug.

“Finally!” Emily screams.

“Finally, what?” You laugh. “The night before I was also in his room.”

“Oh, we know,” JJ assures you.

“Finally, you admit it,” Emily clarifies. “So...details?”

“So...we have to be downstairs soon and I need to get dressed,” you walk past them to your bag. After grabbing your clothes, you turn back around to find them still staring at you. “What?”

“You’re in his shirt,” JJ says, still smiling.

“And boxers,” you laugh, pulling the hem of his t-shirt up a little. “Guys, don’t make this a big thing.” You pause, heading toward the bathroom. “He was a little upset that I knew everyone knew, and he didn’t.”

“How did he not?” Emily scoffs. “He can be so dense.”

You shake your head, shutting the bathroom door to get dressed.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed and looking more presentable, Emily and JJ are finally getting ready, too. They still watch you like a pair of hawks stalking prey, though. You just hope they won’t make any comments later.

That’s wishful thinking and you know it. But hopefully the comments will be held in at least until you’re all on the jet, heading back to Virginia.

+++

When you walk out of the elevator with Emily and JJ, you find Hotch standing with Rossi, the former looking much more grave than you left him. And he’s on the phone.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, picking up the pace. You glance at Hotch, silently asking, and he nods. “There’s another body,” you fill in Emily and JJ, ignoring the strange look that Rossi gives you.

Once Hotch hangs up, he looks immediately at you. “There’s two bodies. Male and female.”

“What?” Emily blurts. “In the same location?”

He nods. “Same house.”

About this time, Morgan and Reid step out of the elevator, jogging over when they see the team’s faces.

“What’s going on?” Morgan asks.

“Two bodies this time, same house, male and female,” you explain briefly.

Hotch jumps in. “JJ: you, Reid, and Y/N head over to the precinct and get Garcia on the phone. Get her to find everything she can on these new victims.”

You nod, glad he’s not sending you to see anymore bloodied bodies. Just the thought has a chill running down your spine.

You don’t want to admit it, but it’s hard not to picture Trevor’s face. It’s hard not to feel the thrill of the possibility of revenge. But you know that’s only the irrational part of your brain. You know you wouldn’t really act on those thoughts.

But they’re still there.

+++

Back at the precinct, you’re dialing Garcia and stirring a cup of shitty coffee. When she picks up, she sounds about as frizzed as you feel.

“Good morning, my angel sent from Heaven,” she sings, sounding far too bright for seven in the morning. “What can I do you for?”

“Good morning,” you chuckle. “We’ve got two new victims.”

“Mm, I know,” she groans, and you begin to hear typing. “Morgan texted me their names, I was waiting for your call.”

“Yep, we just need you to work your magic, that’s all.”

“That I can do,” she replies, no doubt through a smile. “Speaking of magic…”

You already know where this is heading. “Seriously? Who told you?”

“JJ and Emily texted me,” Garcia admits. “But you know I was going to weasel it out of you eventually, anyway!”

“Yes, I know,” you roll your eyes, tossing the coffee stirrer and empty cream and sugar packets in the trash. “Listen, how about this: Once this case is over, we’ll all have a girl’s night at my place with a bunch of junk food and wine, and I’ll give all the details -- whatever they might be at that point.”

You can’t let yourself believe that you’ll still be together because who knows what could happen. Anything could happen. The universe has a bad habit of getting in the way of your love life.

“You know the way to my heart,” Garcia sighs dreamily. “It’s a date. Speaking of dates, it looks like our two victims were married.”

“Married?” You nearly yell. Talk about a plot twist. “And the guy brought our unsub home for a one-night stand?”

“Looks that way so far,” Garcia says with a grimace. “Caroline Merritt, 35, was the CEO of her own company and traveled a lot. It looks like she changed flights yesterday and landed around eleven p.m. She checked her car out of the airport parking lot at eleven forty-five.”

“Great, so she might’ve walked in on our unsub.” You rub your forehead from the stress. “What about the other victim?”

“Jasper Rhodes was 34 and a part-time worker at the local Walmart,” Garcia lists off. “They had been married for three years, but Caroline never changed her last name.”

“Don’t exactly blame her,” you remark. “Alright, which one had allegations?”

“I’m about to burst your bubble, babycakes. Neither of them.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Garcia echoes, just as solemn. “Caroline has a squeaky clean record, aside from one speeding ticket when she was seventeen for going forty-five in a school zone. Jasper also has a clean slate for a record, but he does have one DUI from when he was twenty-two. Nothing else since.”

“It’s been twelve years, so for all we know, he could be sober for a decade now,” you mutter. “Okay. Do they have any connection at all to our other victims? Please say yes.”

“Cross referencing as we speak,” Garcia says, typing furiously. “Almost done… Negative,” she sighs. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “Thank you for being such a wizard, as always.”

“It’s my specialty,” she quips. “So...do I get some details about you and Hotch now?”

“Goodbye Garcia…” You chuckle, ending the call before she can ask anything else.

You walk back into the conference room, shaking your head sadly at JJ who looks up with hopeful eyes.

“Garcia found virtually nothing. Caroline got a speeding ticket at seventeen, and Jasper a DUI at twenty-two. Nothing since. And no connection to any of our other victims,” you relay the information, ending it with a sip of your coffee.

“This unsub is good,” JJ says, exasperated. “How is she always three steps ahead of us?”

“She’s not, really,” Reid says, and you can feel something else coming on. “It’s like she knows we’re closing in on her, so she’s going after those who have no reported allegations. She’s not as far ahead as we think, but maybe that’s what she wants us to think.”

“Reid, dude, you’re sounding like a fortune cookie right now,” you laugh. “I get where you’re going with this. But unless they find some DNA at the crime scene, we’re back to square one again.”

“Maybe…” He trails away, getting up to look at the map.

Something is going on in his head, but you’re not sure what. He’ll tell you when he’s finished with it, you’re sure.

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing. Thinking it’s Garcia, you pull it out and answer without looking, but Garcia’s voice isn’t what you hear on the other end.

“I’m heading back to the precinct,” Hotch says.

“O...kay,” you furrow your eyebrows, mouthing, ‘Hotch’ to JJ. “Why just you?”

“I need to show you something,” he says slowly, like he’s struggling to get the words out. “The unsub left a note.”

“What does it say?” You ask, wondering why it’s like pulling teeth to get him to speak.

“It’s addressed to you,” he finally says, and all the blood drains from your body. “It’s in an envelope and sealed. Your… Your name is on the front.”

You’re not sure what to make of that at all.

“Okay,” you say, your brain unable to really process it. “Okay, we’ll look at it when you get here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron,” you whisper, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Don’t say that to me. You’re scaring me.” You pause. “What are you sorry for?”

“For this note,” he replies, voice quiet. “For this unsub targeting you, and now for scaring you.”

“What does the note say?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t open it.”

“Okay. Just...hurry, I guess.”

“I’m turning into the parking lot now.”

“Okay, see you in a sec,” you murmur, ending the call.

You look up from the phone to find both JJ and Reid staring at you, concern swimming deeply in their eyes. You don’t even have the energy to offer them a reassuring smile. Nothing about this is comfortable for you.

Why would the unsub leave a note addressed to you?

Hotch walks through the precinct doors a few moments later, a man on a mission as he walks directly to the conference room. You’re explaining to JJ and Reid about the note when he walks in, and you fall silent upon seeing him.

He hates that he even called you to warn you, but he had to do something. His mind was racing on the drive. He had to hear your voice, and he knew you were bound to ask why he was coming back on his own, what’s so urgent, so he knew he’d have to tell you.

But the fear in your eyes right now is something he never wants to see again. Ever.

“Where is it?” You say, your voice wavering.

Slowly, Hotch pulls the envelope out of his jacket pocket. It’s in a plastic bag, which is standard protocol for evidence, and you begin searching for a pair of gloves.

You find a pair and start to slip them on, grimacing at the way your hands shake, and using your peripheral vision to see that Aaron is watching you closely.

Once you’re gloved up, he hands you the plastic bag. It feels much heavier than it should.

Carefully, you pull out the envelope, swallowing down the nausea you’re feeling. As Hotch said, your name -- Agent Y/N L/N -- is scrawled on the front in messy handwriting. Fortunately, Reid can examine that, and this letter if it’s handwritten.

You break the seal on the envelope, flinching slightly, and ignoring that you did. But Aaron saw it.

You pull out the note and half of you cries in relief because it is handwritten, and the other half of you feels sheer terror because your business card is taped to the top left hand corner.

“Shit,” you cuss, closing your eyes.

“What?” Aaron asks, taking a step closer, lowering his head to meet your eye level.

“My business card,” you say, opening your eyes again, hating the way things look blurry for a moment. JJ and Reid are just fuzzy figures at the table when you look around the room. “It could’ve been anyone at the meetings. I handed my card to as many that would take it. There’s no way I’ll remember everyone, or even half of them, I mean, I ran out of cards, I had to go stand by Morgan because--”

“Okay, okay, slow down,” Aaron stops you, putting both hands on your arms. “Look at me, please.”

Slowly, the world comes back into focus and you meet his brown eyes, finding your peace there like you have so many other times before. You focus on the weight of his hands on your arms, grounding you, bringing you back.

“I know it’s difficult,” he says. “But you need to breathe.”

You nod, sucking in a deep breath a little too abruptly, not even realizing you had been taking shallow breaths in the first place.

“Good girl,” he whispers, so low that he’s almost mouthing it, careful not to let JJ or Reid hear. And it’s not sexual or sensual this time. It’s comforting. “Can you read the rest of it?”

You nod. “I can help you end your suffering. I can help you avenge. I can help you heal. It doesn’t have to be this way.” You pause, looking up from the note, looking between Hotch, JJ, and Reid. “What does that even mean?”

“Did you talk about your experience during the meetings?” Reid asks.

“A little bit, but I barely scratched the surface of it,” you admit. “And I didn’t mention any names. I might hate him, but...I’d never send a serial killer after him.”

“I know,” Hotch says. “We’re not accusing you of that,” he adds gently. “It’s clear our unsub feels a connection to you now. Something you said must’ve resonated deeply with her.”

“But all I said was that he was my fiancé and that I didn’t report him, so that still gets us nowhere. She’s still a ghost.”

“She’s not a ghost,” he says sternly. “We will find her. You’ve already seen her once.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember seeing her, Hotch.”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is she’s reaching out. Which means we’re close.”

“Not close enough,” you protest, tossing the letter back on the plastic bag on the table. “I need to take a walk.” You move toward the door, and he’s following you, so you add quietly, “Alone, please.”

Hotch nods, and watches you go, more worried than he’s ever been in his life.

+++

When Rossi, Emily, and Morgan return to the police precinct, they spot you sitting alone on a bench outside the front doors.

“I got this,” Morgan says, hopping out of the car and heading to you, gesturing for Rossi and Emily to head inside. They share a look and nod, disappearing into the precinct to leave Morgan alone with you.

You don’t even look up from your hands when you see Morgan coming over from your peripheral vision.

“What’s up, kiddo?” He asks, standing in front of you.

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Derek.”

“Too bad,” he shrugs, sitting next to you on the bench, stretching his arm out behind you. “What’s going on? You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me.”

You snort. “I know.”

“So…” He pauses. “Tell me. It’ll save us both a whole lotta time. And it’ll save you a whole lotta stress, sittin’ there with all that in your head.”

You know he’s right. And you know he’s the only one who really gets it.

So, you tell him what’s wrong.

“The unsub left that note just for me. My card was taped to it, Morgan.”

“And?”

“What do you mean and? It means I laid eyes on her, maybe talked to her, handed her my fucking card, and I still didn’t know it was her.”

“We’re not superhuman, Y/N. We only see what they show us. She probably put on a mask while talking to you.”

“Well now she’s still out there--”

“Listen to me. I ran out of cards too, remember? We started using yours. I easily could’ve given her your card. Hell, I was there with you, I probably looked at her a dozen times, too. Are you gonna yell at me for not recognizing her?”

“No--”

“Then stop doing it to yourself, you hear me?”

“I just… She feels a connection to me. What does that say about me?”

“That you’re a relatable person,” Derek offers, causing you to glare at him. “Hey,” he raises a hand in surrender. “I’m just being logical. It doesn’t say anything about you. Because a serial killer’s view of you is not who you are. You are who you are.”

“Thanks for the fortune cookie.”

“Don’t get that tone with me, kid,” he replies tiredly. “You know you’re not really mad at me, so don’t take it out on me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you rub your forehead. “I’m just…”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.”

“I know that.”

“I know you know that, but you still need to hear it,” he says. “And I’ll always be here to tell you, got that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “Got it.”

He smiles too, glad to see you’re feeling better. He shoves your shoulder lightly, playfully. “Come on. Let’s get back in there.”

“Yeah,” you nod, standing up.

He walks ahead, but you stay still, wondering if you should even ask what you’re about to ask. But Derek notices your hesitation and turns back around, studying you.

“Spit it out,” he says, knowing there’s something.

“The unsub is trying to talk to me,” you say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. “So...what if we set up a trap.”

“What?” Morgan deadpans, raising his eyebrows, turning his body to completely face you.

“What if we--”

“Use you as bait?” Morgan finishes, incredulity coating his words.

You nod. “I wasn’t going to word it like that, but--”

He scoffs, looking more and more pissed off as the seconds go on. “Hell no. Are you outta your damn mind?”

“No, I’m not. I’m--”

“No,” he stops you, holding up his hand, pointing at you. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Don’t go there. We will find this unsub, and we will do it without you sacrificing yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be sacrificing myself!” You protest. “You guys would be there. You’d have my back.”

“We can’t predict everything this unsub will do, Y/N, you know that,” Morgan fires back. “And I’ll be damned if I let you throw yourself into danger like this. It’s not happening. You hear me?”

SIghing, you nod. “I hear you.”

“Have you even told Hotch about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Don’t,” Morgan replies. “You’ll just get a lecture and you and I both know you don’t need that right now.”

“I know.”

He pauses, shaking his head. He steps forward, wrapping you in a hug, eyes closing when he feels you burying your face in his neck. “I love you, kid,” he whispers. “And I know it’s hard, but you got this, we got this. And it’s gonna be okay. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod into his neck, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Next chapter

[thereisonlyoneoption]

Maggie Stiefvater~Rant YA edition pt.2

I know, I know that I had to make a part about world-building but I’m pissed, I failed my exam I am at my friend house and it’s Fourth of July so I must do this.

Joseph Kavinsky.

First of all I don’t condemn his actions and yes, you can like a character but don’t agree with their actions.

My journey with The Dream Thieves was rocky, like really rocky. It was worse than The Raven Boys, I felt psychical pain while reading this one but there was only one good thing that help get through it AND IT WAS KAVINSKY.

From the first scene I liked him, I was intrigued by him and I was curious why Gangsey hates him so much. I mean what M*ggie give us are just rumours, that's when I asked myself “Why such a hate? What did he do to them?”.

And then the yo mama jokes, priceless by the way. Okay, maybe my sense humour sucks but let me tell you in polish translation “twoja stara” is golden I laughed for several minutes.

But the thing went down pretty quickly, like my face went from a happy to grim in a second and stayed that way while reading this, just to cry at the end. After that it was just anger and to this day I’m angry at M*ggie for what she did.

Lets start from beginning.

1. Kavinsky-Description

The first time we see Kavinsky it’s in the chapter 3 where we got rumours about him:

“Of course it was Joseph Kavinsky, fellow Aglionby Academy student and Henrietta’s most notorious recreational forger. Kavinsky’s infamous Mitsubishi Evo was a thing of boyish beauty, moon-white with a voracious black mouth of a grille and an immense splattered graphic of a knife on either side of the body. The Mitsubishi had just been released from a month-long stint in the police impound. The judge had told him that if he was caught racing again, they’d crush the Mitsubishi and make him watch, like they did to the rich punks’ street racers out in California. Rumor had it Kavinsky had laughed and told the judge he’d never get pulled over again. He probably wouldn’t. Rumor had it Kavinsky’s father had bought off Henrietta’s sheriff. To celebrate the Mitsubishi’s release from impound, Kavinsky had just put three coats of anti-laser paint on the headlights and bought himself a new radar detector.“

Right from the bat, characters expressed disdain of him:

“I hate that prick,” Adam said.

Then we get the “description” of him: white sunglasses, golden chain, which already is kinda lacking but then we get the infamous “refugee face”

“He had a refugee’s face, hollow-eyed and innocent.“

Okay okay, so like it wasn't already offensive, we learn later that he’s Bulgarian and as a person also from Slavic group, this description just looks bad and leaves bad taste in my mouth, because I'm fed up with Americans view of Slavs like we are all simple people, still in communist era somewhere in the Europe, who came to America to steal low income jobs.

On the other hand, how does “refugee face” looks like? Yeah, we get the line “hollow-eyed and innocent“ but it still feels offensive to Slavic group.

Luckily, in my translation it was changed to “runaway’s face” which holds the same idea but it isn't offensive and fits Kavinsky’s character better.

“There was nothing about Kavinsky that wasn’t despicable”

Just... ugh why they hate him so much, I asked myself back then but I didn't know that from this point, all went down hill.

“He was unmistakable: the sort of raven boy who was clearly an import from elsewhere.“

Okay first of all, you can import things, not actual people Blue. Second of all, combining this with “refugee face” it made me so angry like M*ggie, why can’t you describe Kavinsky normally without possibly offending half of Europe. He is human, not your new brand German car.

After that we get the rest of description “Like many of the other raven boys, he sported massive sunglasses, spiked hair, a small earring, a chain around his neck, and a white tank top.“ and that’s it. It’s all we get. There might be some things missing, like hair colour but we can forgive that.

2. Backstory

In M*ggie’s now deleted tumblr, she once wrote:

"Kavinsky has a very logical backstory that leads him to this place.”

And what did we know about Kavinsky? Practically, nothing. He’s a son of a Bulgarian mobster from New Jersey, he’s rumoured to kill his father, he’s mother is a drug-addict, he’s rich, Prokopenko is his favourite forgery and he got away with replacing him and possibly his dad. It gives the idea to what shaped him as a person but it doesn’t explained everything, like if he killed his dad, why wasn’t it? How did it ended up with him replacing Prokopenko? Why he is his favourite forgery?

But okay M*ggie say what you want but I and my friend made better backstory for him in ten minutes (like it wasn’t hard really).

3. ”We matter”

“Closing his eyes, Gansey leaned his head back on his seat, chin tilted up, throat green in the dash lights. There was still an unsafe sort of smile about his mouth — what a torment the possibility in that smile was — and he said, “There was never a time when that could’ve been you and me. You know the difference between us and Kavinsky? We matter.“

That said Gansey, the character we are supposed to like, about the kid who is not only his age but also drug addicted and possibly abused. I was furious at him for saying that because who k*rwa he is to say things like that. Is he some frigging higher being to judge someone like that?

And he was smiling while saying that? What an.. and nobody called him out on that?! It only gives the reader the idea that people like Kavinsky don’t matter and to those who relate to him that they don’t matter.

And Blue, who again made me want to throw my phone, later in the book asked  literal a hitman, who offered to go to “talk” with him to “make him feel worthless” while doing it.

It’s the next example when I felt the main characters are lacking a basic human empathy, like again he is just a kid not “H*tler” like Ronan compare him to.

4. That scene

That f*king scene, we all know about.”R*pe of Ronan” as stans like to call it.

I heard the reaction of the fans to this scene even before reading this books. Of course, I was anticipating this scene and when it came:

“After a moment, he heard the hood groan as Kavinsky leaned over him. Then he felt the ridged callus of a finger drag slowly over the skin on his back. A slow arc between his shoulder blades, drawing the pattern of his tattoo. Then sliding down his spine, tensing every muscle it moved over.

But when his eyes slitted, battling sleep, Kavinsky was just doing another line of coke off the roof, body stretched over the windshield. He might have imagined it. What was real?“

I was baffled, because its bad but its nothing like fans making to be. All Kavinsky does is drag his finger on Ronan’s back tattoo, while he is falling asleep but afterwards Ronan said he doesn’t know, if it was even real, so the reader can’t tell if it was. Somebody would argue, that is a molestation but once again, we don’t know if it was real. Maybe if we got K’s PoV we could get information about this situation but now we are left in the dark what really happened that night.

And then, there is “Consent is overrated” scene

This is one of the main argument of stans preaching that K is a r*pist. Yes, that sounds horrible, we don’t have to argue about that but people missed the context of situation in which it was said.

“Ronan replied, “Not such a thief tonight.”

“Some nights,” Kavinsky said, all teeth, “you just take it. Consent is overrated.”“

Ronan and Kavinsky are referring to pulling things out of dreams and how Kavinsky is doing it aka not asking permission to take them out, unlike Ronan. But without this context, the world “consent” is mainly associated with one thing. You know what...

The bottom line is that, if we got K’s PoV, it would shine a light on his intentions and motivations to say and possibly do all of this. We can only thanks the author for that.

5. Relationship with Ronan Lynch

Maybe that will sound scandalous but I don’t think Kavinsky loved Ronan. All of their interaction seem more like obsession to me and after the dreaming of Camaro, it seem desperate.

At the beginning, after main characters expressed disdain of K, only Ronan thought something different:

“Ronan knew he ought to hate him, too.“

And I thought “Okay maybe Ronan know more about him than the rest” but as the chapters went, I wanted the end of it all.

It was toxic. I know, I know but I was hoping for a least little glimpses of possible friendship. Instead of that, I got throwing over cars, punching and exploitation between them. With Kavinsky saving Ronan from the night horror (which fans forget about in their rants how bad K is) and helping Ronan dreaming a new Camaro, I expect at least some decency? gratefulness?? at Ronan side, because nobody forced Kavinsky to do this but when Ronan got what he wanted he just peace out?! Like Kavinsky was doing all of this as a favour?

“He rolled down the window. “I’m going.” For a moment, Kavinsky’s face was perfectly blank, and then Kavinsky flickered back onto it. He said, “You’re shitting me.” “I’ll send flowers.” Ronan revved the engine. Exhaust and dust swirled in a wild torment behind the Camaro. It coughed at twenty-eight-hundred rpm. Just like the Pig. Everything was back the way it was. “Running back to your master?” “This was fun,” Ronan said. “Time for big-boy games now, though.”

And

““I never lie,” Ronan said. He frowned disbelievingly. This felt like a more bizarre scenario than anything that had happened to this point. “Wait. You thought — it was never gonna be you and me. Is that what you thought?”“

And what was Kavinsky’s reaction after he was “used” by Ronan without even a thank you?

“Kavinsky made a gun of his thumb and finger and put it to Ronan’s temple. “Bang,” he said softly, withdrawing the fake gun. “See you on the streets.”“

Not anger but disbelief about what just happened and then the “he said softly“ just seems sad to me. He got used by the man he, de facto, wanted to befriend. He for sure felt cheated and used but the next thing what he does seems just OOC for me. He kidnapped Matthew, Ronan’s younger brother, to force him to come to the Fourth of July party. Before it looked like he wanted Ronan just to have a fun but after the Camaro something broke in him. But once again, it only my interpretation, because K is the only TRC antagonist that doesn’t get PoV, so I can wonder, what was going on in his head.

I’m tired of this, because most of the things could be explained, if we got his PoV, because without it his actions seems random.

After the text “bring something fun to fourth of july or we’ll see which pill works the best on your brother“, Ronan called K demanding where is Matthew and K responded:

“Ronan demanded, “Where is he?” “You know, I asked nice the first few times. Are you coming to Fourth? Are you coming? Are you coming? Here, have a motherfucking car. Are you coming? You made it ugly. Bring something impressive tonight.”“

It doesn’t sounds that evil to me more like desperate (repetition of “are you coming”) and hurting (”you made it ugly”). It made me feel more curious about what was going in his head and what lead him to kidnapping more than being angry at him for kidnapping Matthew.

Kavinsky was looking someone like Ronan, to share problems and to destroy themselves together. And Ronan was the closest thing to it, dreamer and all. He was looking for connection but in the end, Ronan didn’t want anything to do with him and that ended in tragedy.

6. Fourth of July

Ah yes, the main reason why I’m writing this post. We know how this goes. Gangsey arrives at party. Ronan demands where is his brother. Ronan follow K into a dream.

"Kavinsky laughed the word. "Reality! Reality's what other people dream for you."

"Reality's where other people are," Ronan replied. He stretched out his arms. "What's here, K? Nothing! No one!"

"Just us."

There was a heavy understanding in that statement, amplified by the dream. I know what you are, Kavinsky had said. "That's not enough," Ronan replied."

One again K got rejected and it was told to him he "wasn't enough" Okay, Ronan doesn't own him anything but what happened next is more fucked up

Kavinsky dreams fire dragon, Ronan night horror. They fight. Gangsey search for Matthew.

Ronan demands K to tell him where is Matthew and K just said “He’s all yours! You missed my point, man. All I wanted was this —”“ while gesturing at their creations and ONCE AGAIN I REPEAT ONCE AGAIN we are not sure what K meant: dreaming together? fighting? One chapter from his PoV couldn’t hurt Maggie you know?

Matthew got rescued, Ronan shielded him from upcoming dragon then this:

"He shouted to Kavinsky, ”Get down!”

But Kavinsky didn’t look away from the creatures. He said,”The world’s a nightmare”.

Ronan once again shouted to him but Kavinsky didn’t answered and let the dragon to kill him.

“A second later, the fire dragon exploded into Kavinsky. It went straight through him, around him, flame around an object. Kavinsky fell. Not as if he was struck, though. Just like when he’d taken the green pill. He crumpled to his knees and then slumped gracelessly off the car.“

And we know K is dead, because both the dragon and Prokopenko fall asleep.

And that’s all and what was all for? Because they thought he was draining the ley lines (but Adam fixing the lines seems to do the trick) and because Ronan didn't want to come to Fourth of July. After that comes nothing. No reaction from the cast and the dream pack who supposedly were his friends (In later book Jiang talks to Ronan like nothing happened) there is no funeral of which we know and the town is silent. Like K never existed.

What kind of message this sends to a reader? That if you are like Kavinsky in any way nobody will mind if you are gone. You are not even worthless to remember. On one podcast M*ggie said she don’t want to be educational in her books and that’s f*cked up because she is writing YA, young people who are easily influenced and after reading how K is treated the majority will close the book with belief that people like K don’t deserve help and they are goners not worthy of redemption.

While in the same book Gray Man, adult hitman who killed people on pages, was hunting down Ronan, relieved to be murderer behind a Niall's death, beat up and threaten Declan with a gun to tell him where the Greywaren was not only forgiven by everyone (including Ronan) but got redemption arc and love interest. Let me repeat adult man, literal a hitman gets redemption arc but not mentally ill kid. Okay Margaret what the f*ck was that. Where is the logic, where is the lamb sauce?! Does she knows how her writing can influence young people? And it seems most of the fans agree with her.  

Conclusion

Joseph Kavinsky was handled terribly through the whole book. With main cast hating him from the get-go. Narration that tried to make him the great evil (with some fans of TRC calling him the worst villain) and after the book got published the fans and the author themself further demonised him, 17 year old boy with a drug addiction, mental illness and with possible history of abuse.

I can only shake my head every time, I see someone calling him the devil. What Kavisnky needed was rehab and therapy, not death! If she wanted to find solution to stop him from dreaming, why couldn't she just moved him outside of Henrietta or Virginia, not lead him to commit s*icide and public s*icide mind you. He was a bad person but nobody deserved to die like this.

To end this post (I wrote this post so long that in my country is no longer Fourth of July), I still to this day think about Kavinsky and what would happened, if the author didn't choose the easy way to "get rid of him". And do not tell me, it was impossible to end it differently, because it was possible. Ronan just grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him off the car. Sending him to a rehab or just talking with him, instead of assuming from the start, that he wouldn't listen. His only crimes were, he needed help and he wouldn't listen to Gangsey telling him what to do.

[amberandmetal]

My favourite thing

A/N: Some Stony flangst for you this Valentine’s day. Don’t worry, the angst is in the first half and the other half is pure fluff. So basically hurt/comfort. There is some mightbeinterpretedaspastStuckyifyousquint in there so if that’s not your thing you have been warned. I wrote this today after listening to the playlist I made for my boyfriend for Valentines. The songs are Snow patrol- Chasing cars, and Dusty Springfield - I only want to be with you

━━━━━━ ◦ ✧ ◦ ━━━━━━ 

     The party had dwindled down and the clock was inching towards 3 a.m. Thor and Jane had retired to their room, Bruce had left the party as soon as he thought it appropriate, Natasha and Sam had vanished after half the night and was nowhere to be found, Tony had made a beeline for his workshop as soon as he thought that nobody was watching, and left was Clint half asleep on the couch and Darcy lying on the floor in front of the stereo, bobbing her feet along to the music, and Steve, drunk on Asgardian mead and holding his head to keep it from spinning.

    “Oh, I love this song” Darcy groaned happily.

    Steve’s ears perked up, trying to focus on the music instead of the spinning going on in his head. He didn’t recognize the song, granted he had missed ca 70 years of music history so he wasn't all that surprised.

    His head throbbed in time with the mulling pain in his chest, only amplified by the asgardian alcohol burning holes in his veins. It was the same pain he had felt every second of every minute of every day since he was rescued from the ice.

     Pain for every person he had lost.

{ I don't quite know How to say How I feel }

Steve didn’t know when the first sob came,

{ Those three words Are said too much They're not enough }

or the second,

{ If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we're told Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into life }

he was only dimly aware of the third because it managed to rock his entire body. He opened a bleary eye to search for potential onlookers but Clint was snoring peacefully on the other couch and Darcy seemed to be too close to the speakers to hear him.

    People like to say that memories come bubbling to the surface, but that’s not what it felt like to Steve. Instead they shot from his subconscious like a malicious fireball, wrecking everything on its way to the forefront of Steve’s consciousness. Memories, images of places and feelings long gone surged into his thoughts, blinding him to anything else. Image after image.

    His hands being small and spindly, body hurting all over and his lungs constricting with every breath; him looking up to Bucky who smiled back down at him; Bucky and a night sky filled with stars, and grass tickling his neck; Bucky with silvery aquamarine eyes just for him; Bucky focusing on Steve; Bucky seeing Steve; Bucky seeing Steve when nobody else would.

{ All that I am All that I ever was Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see }

    And oh, oh but that hurt; the pain shooting straight through Steve’s heart so hard he had to clutch a pillow to his chest, almost bending over double on the couch. All he could see was those eyes, those kind bright eyes that he would never see again. He felt plagued by the image of the Winter soldier glaring at him on the bridge; the monster wearing his best friend’s face. It was Bucky, except for the hair and the clothes everything about his appearance was Bucky— except for the eyes. Hydra had robbed him of his aquamarine kindness and left him with nothing but silver.

{ I don't know where Confused about how as well Just know that these things will never change for us at all If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? }

    And the floodgates opened and Steve lost nearly all damned control as he shook with the pain strangling him though his spine. He could feel it through his drunken haze: physical sensations mimicking the agony that churned inside him.

    The vision of Bucky in his military uniform appeared before his mind’s eye: ‘Sergeant James Barnes, shipping out for England first thing tomorrow’, and Steve thought he would break apart. His eyes. His beautiful eyes that saw what nobody else saw.. everything he never told him, never got a chance to— was too scared to—

    Darcy sighed dreamily as the song ended and turned to put it on repeat, and Steve gritted his teeth and nearly screamed into the couch cushion.

~~~

    It was Jarvis who alerted him to the worrying state of their Captain.

    “Sir, I feel obligated to report increasing signs of distress in Captain Rogers and seeing as he is intoxicated and in the common area—”

    “What’s going on, J?” Tony put his visor up and his blowtorch down, drawing up a hologram feed from the common room, scanning the image with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

    “The alien liquid mr. Odinsson brought seem to combat the Captain’s enhanced metabolism, keeping him intoxicated, but his alcohol levels appear to be under the level of concern. However his blood pressure as well as his pulse are currently spiking and he is showing alarming symptoms of distress and—”

    Tony removed the rest of his tools and darted out of the workshop.

    “Alright, dear. I’m on it.”

    When he arrived to the common area, Steve seemed to have calmed down enough that his pulse wasn’t running a mile a minute, but his face, oh, but his face. The sight physically hurt. Blue blue eyes staring empty and vacant in front of him and tendrils of tears running down slightly pink cheeks, only interrupted by the occasional sob.

    No no, Tony thought, no this won’t do.

    He moved to usher Darcy off the floor and away from the stereo. She grunted in a way that Tony had quickly learnt in Darcinian meant basically ”Fine, but fuck you.”

    He rummaged through the music, until he found what he was looking for, silently thanking the few beers still in his system because there was no way he'd be comfortable enough doing this sober. Cap was too proud to talk, had always been. So Dusty it was.

    “Tony, what-”

    The first notes of Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you’ started to pour from the speakers to interrupt him. Tony walked up to stand in front of him, hand outstretched.

    “Dance with me.”

    “Tony, no— come on.”

    “I’m serious, I mean the song is a bit after your time but it’s still pretty damn old.. I mean relatively.. should be right up your alley,” Tony grinned at him “and you need a dance, that much is obvious.”

    Steve sighed,  let the corner of his mouth quirk up in a way that was entirely unconvincing and wiped at his eyes.

    “Tony, I don’t think—”

    “Good, don’t think, it ruins the fun.”

    Steve looked up at that and almost allowed himself a small chuckle at the twinkling in Tony’s eyes.

    “Fine.”

    “Good.”

    He pulled Steve up by his arm, which honestly he would not have been able to do if Steve didn’t want him to, and led him away from the couch signaling to Darcy to push away the chairs and table; which she did, albeit a bit clumsily. She had managed to down an entire whiskey bottle by herself and Tony was actually kind of proud over the fact that she managed to remain upright for enough time to move the furniture.

    “I still can’t dance.”

    “It’s funner that way”, Tony winked and that finally wrought a smile and a small huff of laugh from Steve.

    “Knew I could force a smile out of ya, nobody stands a chance against my charms.

    “Your charms, huh?”

    “Yes, yes exactly. Please, try to keep up.”

{ I don't know what it is that makes me love you so I only know I never want to let you go 'Cause you started something, can't you see That ever since we met you've had a hold on me I happens to be true, I only want to be with you }

    Tony tried an easy and slow mash between a modern jive and something of a waltz, sticking to basic moves and made sure to keep it as stupid and goofy as possible; and Steve, ever the elegant super-human, was infuriatingly quick to catch on, following Tony’s lead in an upsettingly graceful manner. He still had a few tears on his face and the embarrassed smiles altered with choked of sobs and tiny hiccups.

{ It doesn't matter where you go or what you do I want to spend each moment of the day with you Look what has happened with just one kiss I never knew that I could be in love like this It's crazy but it's true, I only want to be with you }

    Tony let go of Steve with his left, catching him by surprise to twirl him and then managed a ridiculous little shimmy with his hips. Now that had Steve laughing; a real unrestrained laugh accompanied by a wet but genuine smile and if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing Tony had ever seen..

    “There he is”, he grinned “come on, Cap. Let’s show em how it’s done.”

    “You’re ridiculous.”

    “Fun. The word you’re looking for is fun.” and yes! Steve huffed another laugh. Tony did an internal victory dance. This was turning out to be a very good day after all, and Tony busied his mind with locking away mental image after image of Steve smiling, Steve laughing, Steve looking at him with something soft in his eyes.

    “Come on, Rogers! Shake it!”, Darcy exclaimed, then followed with a whoop and a drunken cackle.

    The tips of Steve’s ears tinted slightly pink and his cheeks followed approximately 1.5 seconds later.

    Adorable.

    Tony dove forward to twirl him again.

    “You heard the lady!”

    Steve’s laugh was quickly turning addictive and Tony felt obligated to keep the Captain laughing because yes, more of that, always more of that. He grabbed his hands and worked their arms back and forth in beat with the trumpets going baa-baba-ba and Steve was just completely, overwhelmingly adorable. He was so different from how he usually was: the tense, disciplined alwayslookingoutforeverybodyelse Captain America. Now he seemed more like the boy Tony had seen photographs of, the boy Steve used to be before they jacked him up on Super soldier juice. He looked slightly embarrassed but happy and loose, almost relaxed; and the tears had started to dry. Victory.

{ Now, listen, honey, I just want to be beside you everywhere As long as we're together, honey, I don't care 'Cause you started something, can't you see That ever since we met you've had a hold on me No matter what you do, I only want to be with you }

    “You stopped and smiled at me and asked if I cared to da-a-ance, I fell into your open aaarms,” Tony sang with the words and turned to jokingly fall against Steve’s arms looking up at him, “and I didn't stand a chance!”

    Okay, so maybe he was a bit more drunk than he had previously thought.

    “Ridiculous”, Steves chuckled, exasperated but fond.

    “FUN”, Tony enunciated every sound of the word like he was talking to a toddler “fun is the word you’re looking for.”

    The last notes of the song rang out and another oldie started playing. Steve dragged Tony up on his feet and turned him to wrap his arms around him, and then Tony was enveloped by massive and warm, warm, warm. If he allowed himself to melt a bit against Steve nobody had to know.

    “Thank you.”

    “Aw, Cap I should be the one thanking you. I’m the one who asked for the dance, remember?” Tony teased.

    Steve snorted.

    “Shut up.”

    “Language!” and Tony was proud that he had managed to sound genuinely offended. Again Steve chuckled and it was like molasses over Tony’s brain, music to his ears! Whatever, he loved it.

    “Ugh, I love your laugh”, and crap- he had said that out loud, hadn’t he?

    Steve tensed for a moment, then moved his head away to peer down at him, brows furrowed; his baby blues seemingly liquid in the low light. When Tony just grinned sheepishly and shrugged Steve’s features relaxed and he gripped Tony’s chin with his thumb and index finger, nuzzling his cheek and yeah this was quickly racing up to the top on Tony’s Best Things Ever- list, right above coffee and Black Sabbath's greatest hits.

    “Then I guess I’ll just have to do more of it.” he murmured against Tony’s skin. And then finally, blissfully, he tightened the grip on Tony’s chin and brought his lips up to meet his own.

    Tony made a choked off trilling noise in the back of his throat because yes.

    Steve hummed in response, angling his head just so and Tony melted some more.

    “Finally!”

    Oh, good, so Darcy was still awake then.

    Steve chuckled against Tony’s lips and that just left Tony in an awful position because smiling was good, smiling Steve was on his top three favourite things after all but smiling also stood in the way for maximum lips on lips contact and that would just not do.

    But then Steve licked over his bottom lip and yeah there went Tony’s last functioning brain cell. Good riddance, see you never.

    Behind them Darcy pointedly cleared her throat.

    “You know, even though this is adorable beyond words and all that, maybe you should, you know, not do that.. here.” she raised her right eyebrow meaningfully.

    Steve surprised them both by tipping his head back and barking out a laugh, tearing away from Tony a bit to wipe at his eyes. Huh, okay then. But Steve was smiling, and laughing and lookingyt   soft and happy and Tony’s heart swelled at the sight.

    Yeah, Steve-smiles was quickly becoming his favourite thing.

[aiimaginesbts]

What You Never Had: Chapter 5 (M)

Seokjin x Reader

Genres: Royalty AU, smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 4,253 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (M) | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (M) | 13 | 14 (Final)

Disclaimer/Copyright

Under any other circumstances, the sight of Jin with his mouth gaping with shock would have amused you to no end. However, this was no situation to laugh about. You, the Princess Royal, were garbed in a dress belonging to your lady-in-waiting, standing in front of the room of a man in plain view; the room of your Royal Guard, no less, late at night when you were supposed to be asleep in your own chambers.

"Your Highness! What are you doing here?" He hissed, sounding surprised, a little angry, and more than slightly panicked, but he had the sense to lower his voice down so he didn't attract any attention.

"Let's talk inside," you said instead, gently placing your palms on his chest so you could push your way into his room. Now that you were here, you felt less hesitant, enough to make that bold a move, and Jin was still in such a state of astonishment that he allowed you to cross the threshold of his sanctuary without any arguments.

At once your eyes swept the expanse of his room, quickly adjusting to the lack of light. You'd never been in a guard's room, but the furnishings were similar to the ones in Ji Eun's room. The small stack of papers on a desk in the far corner of the chamber, the deep colour of blue of his bedsheets, as far as you could tell in the dark and the lack of feminine knick-knacks made the space look more masculine.

If it was possible, you would have looked more closely to the details of the place Jin spent most of his nights  in nowadays but a soft click of the door from behind was a reminder that you were here for a reason. However, you waited. Suddenly nervous again. Part of you searching your brain for something to say, the rest of your mental capacity trying to deal with the full realisation that you were in a man's room. You could feel his eyes burning holes through your back, but you were determined to ignore him in favour of collecting yourself, at least for now. Until –

"Why are you here? Have you completely lost your mind?" He demanded as he walked away from the door towards the large wooden table. A small lamp was lighted, illuminating the room with a soft, yellowish glow. You shifted your gaze towards the source of light just as he turned his back on it to look at you.

Cast into the shadows by the light shining behind him, the contrast made the planes of his face stand out, emphasising his beauty and robbing you of breath. However, his slanted brows and sharp eyes told you that he was waiting for an answer. Still, it took you several moments to gather your wits together to form a response.

"I'm worried about you," you said softly, not wanting to give him more reason to be angry with you than he already did.

"Worried about me? Why?"

You didn't answer. Somehow being in the same room with him alone was affecting you more than you would have expected. The glimmer of the lamp was soft and too small for the big room, the muted light unable to reach the other end of the chamber. In need of support, you walked further away from him, sitting at the foot of his bed instead of the hard chairs near his desk.

This position put you in the darker side of the room, making it hard for Jin to see your expression. Unable to make out your face and sensing that no answers were forthcoming, he crossed the space to stand in front of you.

"Tell me." It was almost an order, a need to know why you were here in his chamber on your own at this hour.

"You looked really upset earlier. Even after the feast. On the way back, you seemed down-spirited," you finally responded as you looked up at him with wide, concerned eyes. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Angry with you?" He said incredulously. "I am not angry with you." When you didn't look convinced, he moved his hand to palm the side of your cheek. The gesture made flowers bloom inside your being even as your heart thudded with increasing force as seconds ticked past.

Out of reflex, you reached for his other hand and held it between both your own. "Then what is it? It hurts me to see you unhappy." As the words slipped past your lips you realised that it was true. It was painful for you to watch Jin sad, even if you were not the cause.

Sighing, he took a seat on the bed beside you, far enough that your bodies didn't touch but close enough that you didn't have to let go of his hand. When he spoke again, his voice had lost that sharp edge it had earlier. "I really was angry at myself. You should not concern yourself with it."

"Does it have anything to do with me?" You probed, trying not to be too pushy, but you had a feeling that it did.

"You will think I'm a fool," he said instead of answering your question.

"That's impossible. You are one of the people I look up to the most."

His bark of laughter at your praise was laced with bitterness and self-loathing. "Your high regard for me is misplaced, Your Highness." You frowned at his use of honorifics, but let him continue without interruption. "Before I found out that you're a princess, I..." he pulled his hand back, ashamed of himself. You heart sank when he did so, but you placed your own on your lap. It was more important to you to hear the reason he was so downcast. "I wanted to court you. That was why I was so upset when I found out the truth. For months I had been hoping that you would one day be my wife. Since not long after I met you, to tell you the truth," he explained to his knees, refusing to look at you.

"It is the hardest thing in the world to see you every day, to be so close to you, yet to know that you are and will always be out of my reach. Then this afternoon, when I saw you with another man..." his hands bunched into furious fists as he recalled the incident, "I knew he was trying to force himself on you, but still, it served as a reminder that you are someone I could never have."

His voice was filled with self hatred, and it tore your heart into shreds. Your eyes started to become moist, not just because of his sorrow, but due to the hope of an impossible future together that inevitably led to pain for you as well. Jin wanted to marry you. You had never desired for something more. Even before he confessed his feelings for you, it had been a daydream of yours. An insane infatuation that had grown more and more with each passing day, never thought to be reciprocated to that extent.

"Jin," you whispered, reaching for the side of his face to coax him to look at you. The anguish etched upon his handsome face was mirrored on yours. Instinctively you leaned forward, closing the distance between you to capture his lips in a kiss.

At first the contact was light, filled with unspoken misery and heartbreak, but you couldn't stop, and soon you began to crave for more. Angling your head, you deepened the kiss, pressing your body to his, but it wasn't close enough. When it came to Jin, you couldn't help but become selfish. Nothing would ever be enough. You yearned for every bit of him, and you wanted to give him all that you had in return.

Without even thinking, you climbed onto his lap to sit astride him. The fabric of your skirt strained to accommodate your new position, but you didn't care. This way you could better feel the hard muscles of his chest against your breasts, the contact making your aureoles grow taut. His deep groan upon feeling the stiff pebbles through your clothes sent excited chills down your spine. That was when you felt it; his hardness pressed against your inner thigh, so very close to your core.

You might be an innocent, but you weren't completely naïve. You knew what it meant. Jin wanted you. Perhaps just as much as you craved him. Perhaps even more. His palms, harsh and calloused from swordplay were pressing on your back, pushing you closer to him. The heat from them was only rivaled by the passion of his mouth, moving with yours in a desperate dance and when his tongue flicked out to silently ask for permission, you granted it immediately, parting your lips for it to enter.

His tongue exploring your mouth, his touch all over your body was making your breath erratic, but you could hardly care for breathing. Jin was your air, he was your oxygen. He was everything you needed. The only thing you desired. You slowly rolled your hips against his, instinct guiding you to make up for the lack of experience. At this, his hold tightened around you even more until his own hips bucked upwards in a sharp, reflexive move, making you whine at the unexpected jolt of pleasure that coursed up your spine from the motion and he regrettably broke the kiss with a moan.

"You have to go," he said hoarsely, fighting the need to draw air into his lungs to get the words out. "I can't control myself if you stay here a minute longer."

It was clear that he was telling you the truth, but you found that you wanted him to lose control. The thought of leaving now was repugnant. This was where you needed to be. In his room. In his bed. In his arms. So instead of moving off his lap, you tugged your borrowed dress up and off of you before he could protest. Only your nightgown covered your modesty now, the cotton white and innocent but the material so thin that it didn't hide the way your peaked nipples strained against it. "I want to stay."

You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat as he swallowed at the sight before him. "You don't know what you're saying," he cautioned, but the warning was weak, the husky quality only serving to rile you up even more.

"On the contrary," you began, reaching up to unbutton your nightgown, "I know exactly what I'm saying." With shaky fingers, you fumbled with the tiny disks holding the garment together, managing to progress just underneath the swell of your breasts before Jin slid his hands up your arms, stopping you as he captured your mouth again.

His kisses devoured not just your lips, but your entire being, your soul, yet his grip on your upper arms; so powerful it was bordering on painful, conveyed to you that he was more desperate than he let on. You couldn't imagine needing him more than you did now, but he was set to prove you wrong.

You could feel his heart beating loudly underneath your palm as he nuzzled the column of your neck, peppering kisses along the length of it before he moved downwards. He tugged at the sides of your unbuttoned nightgown, revealing your breasts to him. Your own heart thudded in your chest when he took a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes zoned in on your heaving chest.

Before you could develop enough embarrassment to shield yourself from his gaze, he leaned forward and latched himself to one of the sensitive buds. Immediately you gasped, fingers finding their way to tangle in his silky hair, holding him in place just as much as to keep yourself upright. Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that such a simple act would send more spikes of pleasure down south. "Jin," you mewled, arching your back as he teased the nipple with his tongue into becoming even stiffer than before while tweaking the other between the pads of his fingers. Moving your wet core against his clothed erection felt even more rewarding with less material separating you. Still, your body cried for more.

So you tugged on his shirt, shamelessly pulling it over his head and he allowed you to do so without any protest. The sight of his bare torso sent you into overdrive, but you didn't have long to admire the defined muscles underneath the lightly tanned skin, because he decided that you needed to undress too. He pulled your nightgown over your head and held you tightly in his arms, lifting you up so he could lay you down in the middle of his bed. Then he drew back to look at you. His eyes filled with wonderment as he drank in the sight of you, fully naked in front of him. A small part of you wanted to cover yourself up and hide from his heated gaze, but somehow you didn't want to. Being exposed and bared for Jin somehow seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're so... beautiful. So perfect." He scoffed at himself, discontent with his own compliments for you, as if mere words were not enough to describe your beauty to him. His eyes marked a trail on your flesh, so intense was his stare, a path that was set on fire by his hands. It started from your neck, just below your ear, down the valley between your breasts, to the side to admire the flare of your hips, brushing your legs trembling with nervousness and exhilaration, tracing every bit of skin in between. His touch was gentle yet possessive, hungry but revering in the vision before him.

Your sharp intake of breath was unmistakable when Jin parted your legs just enough to slip his hand between them and the tips of his fingers brushed against your most intimate place. He groaned at his discovery between your thighs. "You're so wet." Your hands grabbed his sturdy shoulders when he started to rub back and forth between your folds, then gasped when he sank his index finger into you. "So tight," he moaned raggedly. With just a few strokes, you could hear the slickened noises that your pussy made with every movement of his finger, and when another joined the first, the sensation was indescribable.

It wasn't difficult for him to plunge you into a swirling vortex of sinful pleasure. Your iron-clad grip on his broad shoulders tensed just as your inner muscles clamped onto his fingers, but before you could make sense of anything, he pulled away, leaving you empty and a little disappointed for a reason you couldn't even begin to comprehend. "So sensitive," he commented darkly, watching your dazed expression at his torment and withdrawal. Eyes wide open, like a lost deer, dewy lips parted in an 'o' of need for something unknown, cheeks flushed from the new delight wrought by his ministrations. He couldn't help break eye contact when he sucked on his long fingers, your taste making his eyes roll back in his head. "So delicious."

You felt extremely vulnerable to him in the state of arousal that he had reduced you to, but he was quick to lean in and alleviate your worries.

"Why can't I resist you," he whispered the rhetorical question between kisses.

"You can't?" You asked breathlessly. The thought that someone as perfect as Jin finding you irresistible was unfathomable to you.

The angelic quality of his voice hummed in confirmation. "I want you so much."

"I want you too, Jin." You moaned earnestly, squirming underneath him, brushing your body against his in all the right places.

"You are going to be the death of me," he groaned at your response, moving away to quickly divest himself of the rest of his clothing, then climbed back to envelop your body with his, but not before you saw him in all his naked glory.

Years ago, you and Ji Eun had bribed the scullery maid to spill the details of her sexual encounters with the groom from the stables. Even amidst the hushed squeals and raucous giggles that had ensued when the maid demonstrated the motions of the act using a cucumber to represent the groom's penis, you had wondered to yourself how something so big could fit inside you.

Now, however... you didn't think there was a cucumber long enough or fat enough to be compared with Jin's cock to do it justice. When Jin nudged your legs further apart so he could settle between them, you could feel the tip of his manhood grazing against your dripping entrance, and a sprinkle of trepidation sparked inside your mind. However, it was masked by your lust for him. Just the light pressure of him so close to your delicate center was doing untold things to your mind and body. Any semblance of reasoning and judgement had long left you. Every part of you was screaming for him, the primal side of you calling for him to brand you as his, and only his.

"Are you sure about this?" Jin asked, the query firm and steady even though his quivering hold on your waist and the twitch of his cock behaved differently. "If you want me to stop, I will stop, I swear it."

You held his face in your hands so you could look into his warm brown eyes, now darkened with lust as you said, "Yes Jin, I've never been more sure my entire life. Please make me yours."

"Thank goodness," he let out the breath that he had been holding in a stuttering exhale. "This may hurt you a little," he warned, the regret already showing in his eyes even before he could cause you any pain.

"I know you will make everything all right," you said with conviction. "I trust you, Jin."

At your words, he pressed his forehead against yours and breathed in your scent deeply; a tender gesture in a charged moment. "I don't deserve your trust, but I will try. I promise I will do my best by you."

Then he pushed himself forward, allowing himself to taste only a fraction of your wet heat before stopping to gauge your reaction. You ran your hands up the expanse of his back, a silent urge for him to continue, and he did. His descent into you was excruciatingly slow, but you didn't argue. All you could think of was the way he felt inside you, spreading you open to accommodate himself, your muscles stretching impossibly to make room for him. It was difficult for you to register Jin's loud puffs and his fists clenching the bedsheets in his efforts not to simply plow into you as his body demanded of him.

He stopped again to ask, "How do you feel?"

"Good," you answered a little hesitantly, more than a little breathlessly. "I just feel so... full."

He laughed at your answer, breaking the tension. "Y/n, I'm not even halfway there."

"What?!" Your panic was swallowed by Jin's mouth, distracting you as he plunged the rest of the way in, sheathing himself completely within you. His breathy groans and your needy moans were mingled together as he paused again, giving you a chance to adjust to his intrusion. The tremors wracking his body finally clued you in on how much he was holding back on his own urges for your sake, and your heart screamed with affection and gratitude for his wordless care for you.

You had never felt so crammed before, the sensation alien to you, but his tenderness and patience granted you time to let the slight pain slowly recede. Experimentally you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist. A yelp escaped you when this pushed him in even deeper than before, but you pressed harder, wanting more of him, even though he filled you so tightly you were sure that you were going to burst. The initial agony had ebbed away to make way for a thirst for more Jin, and he was more than ready to give it to you. Your delectable whimpers encouraged him to ease into a rhythm that gradually increased in speed and force. You had never felt so incredible before, never even dreamed such a thing was possible, never could have imagined that such pleasure existed.

"Oh my god, Jin, Jin," you panted between his murmurs of your name, unable to articulate the bewildering, intense pleasure coursing through your veins with every thrust, building and rising within you. You tried to raise your hips to meet his, but you were no match for his ferocious movements. Guttural grunts from the back of his throat accompanied the sharp slaps that sounded every time he pounded you into the mattress, soon joined by your cries as you felt the beginnings of a knot tightening in your belly.

Confusion clouded your mind, unable to make sense of the clashing desires your body was demanding of you. Jin's thrusts were feeding a fire that was escalating into an inferno you were afraid you could never put out, yet the thought of asking him to stop was not an option either. A sob became lodged in your throat as he continued his onslaught upon your body, your whole being winded up so tightly you were certain that you couldn't take it a second longer.

"Jin, I can't," you pleaded with him, not knowing how to explain, clueless as to what to do, you turned to him for a solution. Your legs were starting to shake, your insides closing in on his length, making him moan at the increased friction and resistance to his strokes.

"Don't hold back," he commanded. "Just give in to it. I promise you it will feel good."

Both your control and your body was stretched to the limit, and you couldn't possibly take any more, so you heeded his words and let go. A strangled scream escaped your lips as you shattered beneath him, your back arching off the bed with your hips bucking so forcefully that you lifted him up with you. You hardly noticed that Jin had gone still, watching you throw your head back into the pillows, your whole body shaking violently with the force of your orgasm, savouring the sight until the strength of your grip on his cock became too much for him to bear.

His grip on your waist was strong, bruising as he slammed his last few thrusts within your hot, slick depths before pulling out with a roar of your name and emptying himself on your stomach. Still climbing down from your high, you simply watched as bursts of white spurt out of the tip of his cock, feeling an inexplicable pride at being covered with his seed.

After drawing a few quick breaths, he gave you a quick peck on the lips then moved off of you and away from the bed. You were about to protest, wanting – no, needing – him to remain with you, but he quickly returned to your side with a wet cloth. Still panting, he wiped away the remnants of your lovemaking from between your legs and your stomach with care, cleaning you up before gathering you in his arms.

For a while he laid with you on the bed, wordlessly kissing every inch of your face. You couldn't help but smile, never feeling so loved your entire life, wishing for this moment to last for all eternity. You closed your eyes, basking in the love that Jin showered you with without any reservation.

The next time you opened your eyes, it was due to gentle nudging from Jin. You blinked, feeling a little disoriented, wondering at what point you fell asleep in the comfort of his embrace. It was still dark, but you could see the tenderness in his warm chocolate eyes, mixed with a little sadness. "You should go now before the servants wake and you are missed."

You sat up in alarm, the fear of being caught pushing you to haul yourself off the bed and pull your clothes back on. Jin was already partially dressed, having pulled his trousers back on, but he was still shirtless and you stared at him for a few moments, unable to tear yourself away from him.

A small smile illuminated his face as he placed an arm around your shoulders and led you to his door, where he turned you to face him. You looked up at him, pulse accelerating again when he leaned down to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss, not dampened at all from the intimacy you'd already shared.

Neither of you wanted to break the contact, but finally he did so, pressing his forehead against yours to make sure you were looking into his eyes when he said, "I love you."

Before you could respond, however, he had turned you around again, opened the door and pushed you through it. You couldn't risk knocking on his now closed door again so you made your way back to your chambers, trying to contain your wild euphoria at his parting words that you repeated again and again in your head like a mantra.

He loves me. He loves me.

[sabianrhomnd-blog]

2/11/17-2/12/17

Today I went and purchased a bundle of heroin from the local dope dealer.

It's sucked.

Chunky black or blue residue.

The assumed "heroin" Didn't completely dissolve into the water solution, or draw into the syringe well. But I managed to get my "rig" to suck up what I thought was going to be the best thing that happened to me all day.

...It was not.

The quality and purity of said mystery drug cocktail were lower than the bar at a midget limbo championship

As I sat in the Hardys parking lot injecting hard drugs, my phone began to vibrate

The caller I.d reading "Bri"

"Yo, what's up"

"You wanna go to Franny's house with me and Tiff?"

In which I replied yes.

So they picked me up and I proceeded to ride with them to franny's house.

Once arriving at Our predisposed destination I was confronted with the Task of hooking up her "surround sound"...

Bribed with a few lines of meth I felt completely and inevitably compelled to grant Franny's wish of having a working functioning "surround sound"

So up the nostrils the meth went.

The best way to describe to one who has never snorted meth what it feels like, would have to be the closest thing to sniffing a blow torch.

The wrenching ache in the corner of the back of your head. That burn that makes your eyes water as if you chopped a large onion.

Then finally the unmistakable euphoric rush of speed settling into your blood stream. I could feel my heart begin to accelerate with the speed of a turbine jet.

so for about 2 hours, while Tiffany and Bri had they're makeup and hair done by Franny.. I tried to hook up this surround sound

(Which I did very well)

However it must have been broken it kept saying "speaker err"

Some where along the lines of all this happening,

Bri gets a call from this guy "Ben" that she is..

seeing..

And says that he has a hotel room at "the golden nugget" In Atlantic City.

In that moment we all made a grown up and responsible decision of staying up all night.

So the two of them finished up their make-overs if you will, and we all piled into Bri's slightly "lived-in" family sedan and headed to Atlantic City.

We arrived at apx. 2:45 a.m.

We pulled into the parking garage. The cold shearing air cutting through the thin layer of clothes I had on. Bri called her "friends" and they met us in the lobby, of a clearly overpriced hotel and casino resort of Asian descent.

We continued to the casino, through a maze of tacky "mafia Movie" esc. decor. Bri gave me 30 dollars to play slots. Which I did maintain surprisingly well for a while. But lost  all of it nonetheless. Bri however did very well for herself at one of the live blackjack tables.

(Side note: I kept $10)

Because Bri just won A bunch of money

And I had 0 dollars and drank away my only three dollars at nancys...

As the late night turned to early morning we we're sitting at the bar and neither me nor Tiffany had I.d. So we decided to follow one of Bri new "friends" up stairs.

Once back in the hotel room I finished the sprite and vodka that Tiffany had previously made me as well as 3 natural ice cans that I took from nancys fridge before we left...

They all went down surprisingly well, assuming I had the meth to thank for this, I wasn't drunk In the slightest. Shortly after I witnessed a pillow fight. It was great to see Tiffany having so much fun. She has this smile that is just so honest. That smile could light up a stadium, and yet that same smile made me weak in the knees. Just knowing that that kind of beauty exists, let alone in one of my close "friends", made me feel blessed to have her in my life. However at this point I was feeling pretty dope sick from the bullshit "dope" I had gotten earlier as well as coming down from all the meth we snorted at Franny's before embarking on our journey to the dirty Jerz.

Bri and her new friend "Ben" became friendly in one of the arm chairs in the severely over priced hotel room, when they developed a plan to walk around the city..  well.. Atlantic City.

I packed all my things into my backpack and followed Bri, Tiffany and Ben out of the hotel room and Into the frigid parking garage from hell.

Once we arrived in the parking garage I could not bare the temperature outside.

If I recall correctly someone mentioned it being 36 degrees out??

So I reluctantly asked Bri if I could just sit in the car while they went on they're "walk around the city"

She agreed because Bri loves me and is my best friend ever. Also more than likely because it was blatantly obvious I was going through some sort of withdrawal at this point.

It is there, alone in the car, where I reflected on my life choices and my current situation in life itself.

It was an eye opening experience, sitting there, freezing, half dope sick and high on meth.

The agony of knowing that my favorite activity is self destructing. Continuously asking myself how long I was going to be able to keep this up. The razor like cold chills running up my spine making me miss the warm loving embrace of my god forsaken drug of choice.

Laying there smoking the roach of a blunt I had rolled at Franny's, I realized that it was time to take control of my life and start doing something creative. Thus Subsequently the main inspiration for me beginning to write...

I sat and pondered. The rapid thoughts sprinting through my brain like the starting varsity football team during hell week practice...

Eventually Bri, Tiffany and Ben returned after what seemed like forever in the frozen family sedan

Upon her return, sitting passenger in the car, Tiffany drew in the fog on her window. It made me smile, as well as stop and appreciate the simple things in life that can actually make me crack a smile. It's a rare occurrence but definitely a genuine one. It's a funny feeling, when you can't help but to smile. Almost as if you'd be unable to hold it back if you tried. Like my teeth are a baby bird, breaking through the eggshell that it's spent its entire life incubating in only to get to this moment, where they tear through the prison that is my face as if this was destined to make me smile.

In the midst of all this I couldnt help realize how many cigarettes I WASN'T smoking.

This was a good thing considering I smoke about a pack or more a day.. some how I had managed to make a half pack last the duration of the adventure.

Bri, Tiffany, Ben and bens friends, and myself, all made our way to the breakfast buffet.

I had a few small muffins and two, what I presumed to be raspberry danish's. They were actually somewhat astounding, as they should have been for $15.99...

You could tell there was a lot of tension In the air. Everyone was on edge. It was terribly unpleasant.

It was at that point or shortly after we decided to make our way back to Home, where my un-made bed awaited me as well as a grandmother chock full of questions to bombard me with as soon as I set foot in the house.

The long ride home gave me ample amount of time to think about the looks Tiffany and I had been exchanging all day. They say that people are out into our lives on purpose to raise our sense of consciousness in that segment of or existence. I truly believe that. Both Tiffany and Bri had been put into my life for a reason.

We pulled into my driveway, the four of us exhausted and freezing from our recent adventure. I said my good byes and parted ways with the lovely ladies, advising them to be safe on their journey home.